AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Linc, the bodyguard Jairo had hired for Win, was somewhere out there in the wind, but Mathieu wasn’t worried about him; he’d just been a gun for hire with no skin in the game. Besides, Linc knew better than to try to come at Mathieu. So wherever he’d run off to, Mathieu knew he was long gone from Miami.
For the first time in a long time, Mathieu’s life was exactly as he wanted it to be. The only thing that remained frustratingly out of his reach was the identity of the seventh man. He had his men working on it diligently day and night, but so far they’d had no luck. He wouldn’t stop, though. He would never stop until he found his target.
“Boss.” Jason’s voice came through Mathieu’s earpiece. “They just pulled up.”
Mathieu blew out a breath.Fucking finally.“Got it.” None of his men were in view, but they were around just the same, armed and ready for whatever. He’d picked the restaurant, one of his own, so he’d have the advantage should anything pop up.
He hoped nothing popped up. For once, he wanted to go home to Win without blood on his hands. Still, he remained ready for whatever.
He stared at the restaurant’s entrance as his guests entered side by side, walking in stride. Mathieu shook his head. If he never saw those two motherfuckers ever again it would be too soon. But they were like cockroaches, he was coming to find out, persistent and annoying.
“Mathieu.”
He barely refrained from rolling his eyes as they arrived at the table. “You two practice that entrance in the mirror?”
Stavros grinned, but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. Next to him, Daniel Nieto stood silently, holding a white hat box tied up with a red bow. That cartel motherfucker always looked like he was seconds away from slitting someone’s throat.
Mathieu remained sitting, gazing up at them. “I was surprised to get your call. Didn’t think we had anything left to say to each other.” Especially after they’d kidnapped Win.
Stavros sank into the chair opposite Mathieu while Nieto remained standing at his back, like the grim reaper dressed in a black knee-length coat over a black shirt and trousers. Holding that box. Mathieu wasn’t worried about what he had in there. His men would’ve made sure they’d both been thoroughly searched before allowing them to enter. Mathieu and his men were the only ones armed in this meeting.
“We brought you a gift.” Stavros watched him with an expression that was a bit too smug for Mathieu’s liking.
Mathieu glanced over at Nieto, who held the box like it was the most precious thing. “I see that.”
“It’s an olive branch,” Stavros continued as Nieto stepped forward and placed the box down on the table in front of Mathieu. Stavros motioned with a jerk of his chin. “Open it.”
Mathieu didn’t make a move toward the box. “Is this why you called this meeting, to give me gifts?” Those two were always on some subliminal shit, and he was too fucking tired and missing Win too much to even try and decipher whatever the fuck they were doing.
“We called this meeting so we can come to an understanding. This—” Stavros tapped the top of the box. “—is to show you just how serious we are.”
Mathieu studied Stavros’ face before glancing over to Nieto. How they ended up in a relationship was just…he couldn’t wrap his mind around it, but it was clear how much of a team they were, a partnership, and it made him miss Win all the more. The need to go to his man swelled in his chest and he reached out, tugging the box closer to him and then lifting the lid.
The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he would be getting naked with his man.
He peered into the box and froze. Blue eyes stared back at him. Lifeless eyes from a severed head.
They’d brought him a head.Mathieu’s brow furrowed as he tried to place the somewhat familiar features. Brown hair, blue eyes, large nose in a narrow face.
“You remember Lev Cooper. You were to marry off your sister to him at one point.”
Lev Cooper. He’d inherited one of the largest trucking businesses in the Southeast from his father, who’d been a loyal friend and partner to Moïse, Mathieu’s father. Lev’s old man, Robert, had taken a bullet for Moïse during an attempt on his life. Robert later died from his injuries. After Mathieu’s father’s death, Lev came to him with an offer of partnership and Mathieu had found the idea intriguing. He would have been able to use Lev’s trucks to move his guns and other products throughout the country. Lev had wanted only one thing in return.
Chantal.
It shamed Mathieu now that he’d agreed to it. He hadn’t been thinking straight. Thankfully, Chantal foiled his plan by running away to New York and marrying some old motherfucker up there. She’d made herself worthless in Lev’s eyes and so the deal had fallen through. Lev had turned out to be an idiot anyway, and his business folded not even six months after Chantal ran away.
Mathieu never heard from him again.
He lifted his gaze from Lev’s dead eyes to Stavros’. “What the fuck is this?”
“I heard you were looking for someone.” Stavros sat back, crossing his ankles, tapping a finger to his chin as he gazed up at Nieto. “A, uh—”
“Seventh man,” Nieto supplied to his partner oh so helpfully.
Stavros snapped his fingers. “Yes, that. A seventh man.” He smiled at Nieto then turned back to Mathieu, the soft smile disappearing as if it’d never been. “Did you know Lev had approached your father for a partnership before he came to you?”
Clearly, he’d come to do a whole shtick, so Mathieu kept his mouth shut and allowed Stavros to talk. Eventually, he’d get to the real reason behind why the three of them were sitting at this restaurant.
