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I watch as Kyle heads to the door and set my mind to the business I must get out of the way before the pleasurable side of it can be enjoyed.
As the door opens, River strolls through it as if he hasn’t a care in the world, although inside he must be pissing his pants.
“Mr. Vieri.”
He nods respectfully, and I point to the chair before my desk.
He sits on the edge, the sweat on his brow the only indication he’s shit scared.
“Rafferty Powell.” I study his reaction and he nods.
“The new quarterback for the Jets.”
“What do you know of him?”
He shrugs. “He’s vulnerable.”
“No.” I fix him with a dark glare. “What. Do. You. Know. Of. Him?”
My words tell him everything and he pales significantly and stutters, “I don’t understand.”
“I think you do, River.”
Kyle moves behind him and removes his gun, holding it to River’s head, causing him to stutter, “I was paid to threaten him.”
“Who paid?”
“He didn’t give a name.”
Kyle presses the gun in harder and River begins to shake.
“I swear I didn’t get a name. He used Michelle as an intermediary. She told me there was ten thousand with my name on it if I arranged heat on Rafferty.”
“Ten thousand.” I think back on the money Allegra held in her hand, knowing exactly where it was heading now.
“What was the threat?”
My tone is conversational, but my expression isn’t and River says quickly, “Blackmail. Frame him for murder and threaten to ruin his career before it began. I don’t know why; he’s obviously pissed off someone with more money than sense.”
“So, you sent Diego.”
I think back on the man I executed just for laying one finger on the woman waiting for me and to this day, I’m still not sure why it incensed me so much. Seeing him preparing to rape her and use her for his own gain unleashed the beast inside me. He was meant to collect, not twist it to his advantage, and his fate was sealed the moment he tried.
River says quickly, “I promised him a cut if he collected. I had business on the other side of town and it seemed the best option.”
River is one of many men who slides under my radar. Low life criminals who scratch for a living doing shit just like this. I learned of it through my network of spies, and this time our paths have crossed. The trouble is, she ismysoul to ruin, not his and whoever this fucker is who paid him had better watch his back because I’m coming for him too.
I lean back in my seat and my eyes flick to the screen, searching for the woman who is the star of the moment.
She is on a couch beside her friend with a bucket of iced champagne before her and I notice two men in suits sitting opposite them. It momentarily distracts me as I watch the guys apparently hitting on them, and my anger boils. I know those men. Two city dudes with platinum credit cards and no sense. They are regulars and leave with a different woman every fucking time. Their money is good and who the fuck cares how they get their kicks, but not tonight. She is mine and the only one who gets to ruin her is me.
With a frown, I dash out a text to security and watch as they move in on the group and whisper in the men’s ears, their words designed to cut short any hope of hitting on the two women who will wait for me to do it instead. They nod and then smile apologetically and leave, moving to the other end of the bar, away from my revenge and away from her.
I switch my mind back to business and stare at River, who may be just about to shit himself.
“Murder. Whose?”
I remind him of his words, and he shrugs. “Some woman called Taylor Sutherland. She was found in a secluded area with her heart ripped out. Whoever wants Rafferty, framed him for it because he was dating her. Then again, maybe the fucker did it, which is why he’s paying up.”
