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This man was the only one my father would allow to hold any sort of influence over us publicly and only because, despite outward appearances, we were on equal footing. I knew what happened behind closed doors.
He didn’t have some secret team lurking in the shadows as a nearly empty threat. He hadus, his right hand assassins, spies, and information gatherers.
“Uncle Dorian,” I greeted as I walked up, taking the seat beside him. Tension rose in the room with our arrival, but they played it off.
Doctors. Lawyers. CEOs. Anyone of influence who wanted to make deals without eyes and ears on them.
Except ours, of course.
“Burke?” His voice was harsh, made raspy from disuse and the habit of smoking cigars like his life depended on it.
“Still breathing, and things are getting interesting. He has a new backer.” We’d watched the man come in today and shake hands with the senator. Of course, we couldn’t see what was going on behind closed doors, but they weren’t quiet when they boasted about the generous donation and his future position should the senator win again.
The grunt told me to continue.
“The one and only Grayson Trand. He pledged a sweet million for a spot on the city council.”
“He thinks Burke will have access,” my father, Cyrus, added with a dark chuckle as he joined us. We all knew damn well the men in this room controlled the city. The senator might hold power in the state, but not in North Harbor.
“Lyle!” Dorian’s bark had the bank’s CEO rushing over to him.
“He wants to know if Burke has reached out to you and why Trand is giving in,” I summarized. The man’s eyes flickered to mine, and his tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his dry lips as if that could help him find the words he was fumbling over.
“Uh, he, uh… Burke is offering tax cuts and to push some beneficial laws on our behalf if we back his campaign. He’s trying to pick through us one by one to get the city behind him.”
“And his end game?” I asked as I leaned forward and cocked my head to the side. He ran his sweaty palms on his pants and didn’t meet my eyes. Men like this never did. Money did not equate to bravery, and being an alpha meant nothing when facing a deadly beta like me.
“He wants to take you down.” His words were directed at Dorian. My uncle erupted into raspy laughter that had the entire room falling silent. He wasn’t exactly jovial even on a good day.
“Ironic,” was all he supplied to the stunned men still staring at him. That seemed to jar them back to life, and the chatter picked back up, though it now felt forced.
“And what do you think?” I demanded of the man shaking in front of me. Lyle’s eyes finally met mine, and sweat broke out on his skin. The sight had a smile growing on my face, and it only stretched wider when he took a stumbling step backward.
“I turned him down,” he promised, practically pleading with us to believe him.
Grady walked up to us with a tray of drinks, handing out the usuals to my brothers, father, and uncle before retreating. You’d think the son of the head of the Shaw Crime Family would have a more influential position, but he insisted on remaining nameless to the elites.
They were more loose lipped since they saw him as a fixture of the club rather than the heir.
“You’re dismissed,” my father told him, and the man scurried back to the other mice, likely with his fucking pants a bit wetter than before.
“Don’t act too soon,” Uncle Dorian said in a low rumble that only we could hear. “I’m curious to see his plan unfold. I’ve got my other men on the streets and in the circles they need. A few activist groups are going to be moving in the next several days. Keep vigilant. This is pivotal, my boys.”
Now that we were finding new information, the job was no longer an inconvenience. No, Dorian would be playing it off as his idea... anything to keep his ego inflated.
“Yes, Uncle,” Sterling promised. We all stood, ready to go back to our section of the penthouse, but he reached out to stop me, letting the others trickle away before bothering to speak.
“Job?” I questioned in a low voice as I sat back in my chair and leaned in. He handed me a slip of paper instead of saying anything more. Knowing it held a name or address inside, I didn’t bother to follow my brothers. Instead I took the elevator back down to the parking garage.
My Audi was waiting in the corner. I hit the auto-start and smiled to myself as it roared to life. In a life shared by my brothers and the Family, this car was my one true indulgence.
Until I got my hands on my little rabbit, at least.
Only when I was behind the wheel did I unravel the paper. A singular name was written there, and I committed it to memory before opening the door, lighting it on fire, and watching it turn to ash.
It seemed my dear uncle had chosen another name from his list. I’d studied these targets for months—their locations, hot spots, meeting locations, and schedules. Just the mention of his name had my impeccable memory pulling up a mental file, so I had a destination in mind before I even shifted to drive.
The night was foggy and quiet as I wound through the city streets. A random Tuesday didn’t incite much in the way of excitement outside of the bar and nightclub district.
