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I approach him, thrusting a hand between us. I watch him study me, his dark eyes—so like his son’s—glittering in the low evening light pouring in through the windows. After a few moments, he grasps my hand and gives it a firm shake—a little too firm.
“This is a bit unprecedented,” he says, crossing to sit behind his desk.
He motions for me to take a seat across from him in a large wingback chair. His whole office reeks of opulence. I do, noting the soft leather beneath my fingers as I grip the chair, and then with a quick glance at my lap, I make sure my knife is still hidden.
“I don’t usually do business with … the weaker sex.”
His words are chosen with care, meant to put me in my place. I don’t care though. I’m not one to pick fights when the war is already here. I don’t want to argue over sexism. I want to put a blade through his windpipe.
I’ve been working on getting answers for eighteen months—ever since my best friend and only person I had in the world went missing outside one of Bertrand’s nightclubs. At first, I thought Ruby’s disappearance was coincidental to the location, that she’d followed the wrong guy out into the alley to have some fun. But I’ve been digging, and I think there’s something more sinister going on. I think she was taken for profit, and I think Bertrand Soltorre is behind it all.
But now that I’m here, staring the beast in the eyes, I don’t think I prepared all that well.
Fake it till you make it, right?
“Yes, well, don’t think of it as doing business with me. Think of me as an extension of my boss.”
“William has never sent a lackey to do his work with me before,” Bertrand says, sitting forward and clasping his hands on the desk.
He’s suspicious—and rightly so. I don’t actually work for his partner; it’s an elaborate lie I made up to get close to him.
“But looking at you, I’m not surprised why he did it.”
His eyes rake over my body, and I want to be disgusted, but my outfit is doing its job—keeping him distracted.
“There’s a first time for everything,” I say with my smile still in place. I can’t let it slip.
Men like Bertrand can smell fear from a mile away, and they relish it.
Hopefully, he can’t smell it on me.
I have to be careful now. I don’t actually have any proof of Bertrand being involved in any kind of trafficking, so I had to figure out a way to get close to him without him being suspicious. So, I’m posing as an employee of one of his business partners and a fellow boss.
This is all for you, Ruby.
I hope wherever she is, she knows I’m coming for her. I refuse to believe she isn’t alive. It makes sense though—if they are trafficking people, they need to keep them alive. I might be insane for taking on a Mafia boss, but when it comes to family, there’s nothing I won’t do. Since Ruby is the only family I have, I’m willing to do everything for her.
“I’m not sure exactly what you are doing here,” Bertrand says, eyes on my tits instead of my face.
I smile, and he leans back in his chair. I use that as an opportunity to slip around his desk, perching my ass on it in front of him. He smiles up at me, but it holds no warmth. I can’t back down now.
“Truth is, I offered to come over and take care of this so that I could meet you.”
“I’m a happily married man, Miss Coleman,” he says, eyes never leaving mine, as if to drive the point home.
Bullshit.
I know about his dalliances. I’ve talked to some women who participated. Not that they told me in so many words, but I felt them out. They never could tell me much. It seems he isn’t one for pillow talk.
“Of course you are.” I lean forward, touching his hand slightly. I withdraw quickly, feeling nauseous. “This is more for a business proposition.”
At that, Bertrand chuckles, shaking his head. “I can assure you, Miss Coleman, there’s no business you have that I would want to be involved in.”
Sexist pig.
I smile and adjust my weight to one foot. I’ve got these blasted heels on again, but the dress doesn’t work without them. “I think if you took a moment to listen”—I lean forward, trying to twist my body a bit and touch his arm again so he doesn’t notice my other hand going to my knife—“you’d be very interested in my business plan.”
His eyes drop to my tits again, and I freeze, not moving until his eyes are back on my face. My heart is pounding so hard that I can’t hear much over the sound of rushing blood in my ears. I’ve never done this before—killed someone—but it’s the only way to get his records and get out. He’d never let me leave otherwise. With Ruby gone, I don’t have much to live for anyway.
