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Montana nodded. “The second we entered the building his men surrounded the place. He is leaving nothing to chance when it comes to you.”
Sighing, I placed my napkin on the plate and stood. “Thank you for the offer, Montana, but I will pass. I have other obligations that require my attention.”
Montana shook his head. “Sal told us you’d say that.”
Turning to look at him, I asked. “What does my brother have to do with this?”
Montana picked up his fork, moving the remnants of his lunch around on his plate as he looked everywhere but at me. “Sal said you’d do as you were told.”
Balling my fist tightly, I seethed.
I wasn’t some fucking errant child.
“He also said that you were off limits to everyone, unless vetted by the family.”
Motherfucker!
“I own the place outright. I say what goes on here and I get the final say on who works here. Non-negotiable,” I quickly said, when Montana was about to speak. “I also get to keep the penthouse at Davenport Towers, which you will pay for.”
“What?” He said, sitting up.
“I know Sal didn’t say that shit, asshole. You wanted me, well now you’ve got me. All of me. And you can tell that Russian bastard if he ever steps foot in my club, I will personally rip his dick from his body and shove it up his ass.”
Montana cringed before saying, “That’s not going to work Illyria. We want to use this place as a neutral zone.”
“Vlad can attend. Maxim Fedorov is persona non grata. Take it or leave it.”
Standing my ground, I waited patiently as Montana milled over what I said and when his shoulders relaxed, I knew I was going to get everything I wanted. Gathering my purse, I turned to leave when I stopped, looked around and clearly said, “And one more thing, Montana. I will have a seat at the table for every meeting. If I’m going to be a target, then I have the right to know all the players.”
Holding my head high, I walked out of the Gentleman’s Club, smiling.
Chapter Six
Maxim
She was fucking fabulous.
From the second she walked into the Gentleman’s Club I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She looked more beautiful than I remembered, and that cunning, wicked mind of hers was going to get her ass beat once I had her in my clutches again.
It had been a year since I’d physically seen her and she didn’t disappoint. She was everything I remembered and more. Her hair, still golden like the sun. Her beautiful face controlled and determined. Her body, a fraction fuller, more rounded in all the right places. She was a fucking knock out and my dick took notice.
Shifting in my seat, Renaldo Romano chuckled next to me. “Damn, Max. What the fuck did you do this time?”
“Shut up.” I growled.
This experience was novel to me. I’d never been on the receiving end of my friend’s ribbing. Generally, they were the ones with female problems. For years I’d avoided that entanglement like the plague because of this very instance. Now, it seemed it was my turn in the hot seat. I have to admit, I didn’t like it.
I wasn’t young like the rest of them. At forty-seven, Montana was younger than me by five years. I was the old man of the bunch. The one who was supposed to be levelheaded, knowledgeable. Instead, it seemed even I was not immune to the frivolities of female drama.
While the young pups around me laughed and joked at my expense, I looked at Vladmir, who seemed to agree with them.
Fucker.
I couldn’t wait until a woman turned his life upside down and sideways.
“Oh, dipshit really stuck his dick in it this time,” Lorenzo Valentinetti laughed boisterously. “I thought for sure she was going to kill Montana for being the messenger. Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to piss off a stubborn woman, Fedorov?”
Ignoring the fuckers, I watched as the love of my life and the bane of my existence strut her little ass out of the club she now owned.
