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She looks around the room, seeming as lost as when I brought her into the suite.
“Do you need help with operating the facilities?”
Her look is scathing. “I can open a tap.”
Ah, her fire hasn’t burned out. It pleases me. I smile. “Call if you need me.”
She scoffs before pushing past me and slamming the door in my face. The lock turns on the other side. As if she has any power. Grinning, I shake my head and drag a hand over my face. The stretch of my lips is a foreign feeling, something I haven’t experienced in long time. Maybe never.
Leaving the little flower to her bath, I steel myself for the call I have to make. Certain she can’t escape, I go onto the balcony for privacy and check the hour. It’s the same time in France.
It takes a while for my father to take the call. From the cutlery sounding in the background, he’s having dinner.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” I ask in French.
It’s my brother who replies. He’s jovial, a few glasses of wine already in his stomach. “How are things working out in South Africa?”
I roll my shoulders, but my voice comes out tight, anyway. “Fine. I didn’t know Maman invited you for dinner.”
“We’re at the club.”
My spine goes stiff. The club is where the deals are made. Alexis is greedy to undermine my power. “Let me speak to our father.”
“Do you have her?” He sounds excited.
Something dark stirs in my chest. I can’t discuss her with him. Even that little will soil her.
“Max?” Alexis’s voice rises in volume. “We have a bad connection. I can’t hear you.”
“Put Father on, Alexis. It’s late.”
He laughs. “Getting old?”
I let the jab slide, but get one of my own in. “Pronto, little brother.”
The diminutive works. A moment later, my father’s cigar-rough voice comes on the line. “Did you meet with Dalton?”
Good evening to you, too, Dad. “You’re at the club.”
“The business doesn’t go on hold when you’re not here.”
I force nonchalance into my tone. “What’s Alexis doing there?”
The way my father changes from brusque to overly friendly tells me everything I want to know. “It’s just dinner, Max.”
“I thought you said it’s business.”
“For me. Your brother is networking. Enough of family. Tell me about Harold Dalton. Did you see him?”
“Last night.” I hated every minute of the dinner I shared with that shark.
“And?”
“He’s not going to last.”
There’s a moment of silence. “Is he as bad as our dealers say?”
“Worse. His mine reeks of mismanagement, and his board is corrupt.”
“Did you have a look at the books?”
“Only the ones he wanted me to see. He did a good job of trying to hide it, but they’re definitely cooked.” I have a nose for figures. It only takes me a moment to know when one and one don’t add up to two.
“I see.” Another short silence. “In that case, we won’t interfere with Damian Hart’s scheme.”
“I’ll advise against it. From looking at all the facts, Hart is the best man to revive that mine. Plus, his motivation is personal.” Personal always guarantees the best results.
“Then we let Dalton go under when the time comes.”
“In two years’ time, we won’t be making any more money out of him. He’s running the mine into the ground.”
Literally.
Harold Dalton is the owner of one of the most lucrative diamond mines in South Africa. He sells to us directly, cutting out the brokers and wholesalers, which earns us a big fat saving of thirty percent. When you’re talking billions, thirty percent is a considerable chunk, enough to bribe and, if needed, kill for.
Word has it that the mine is running empty and will soon go bankrupt. We keep a close ear on the ground. In our business, it’s imperative. We have informants everywhere, even in Dalton’s mining workforce, and we’re not the only ones who play that game.
It turns out Damian Hart has informants, too. He knows about the mine’s pending failure. According to his cellmate and our informant, Zane da Costa, the mine has unyielded potential that Dalton is too thick in the head to exploit. Da Costa sold us information about Hart’s plans to take over the mine when he gets out of jail. According to Hart, Dalton stole his discovery, and he has every intention of taking it back.
From what I’ve learned about his strategy and how he’s planning on going about it, my money is on Hart. For the time being, Dalton is giving us the first buying option for a kickback. Hart wants to bring back the wholesalers and cut out the shady dealers like ourselves, which poses a problem for our business. If Hart takes away thirty percent of our business, everything will fold—the casinos, shipping companies, our whole empire. Our mission is ensuring Hart honors the deal, and for that to happen, we need a sword we can hold over Hart’s head.
