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Stopping in front of him, I took in the four men at his back. Three of them I’d seen around before, and the fourth one had a close resemblance to Hannibal Lecter. He was staring at me as if he were ready to get out the chainsaw and hack me into tiny pieces. I’d have to keep an eye on him. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
Cian opened his arms wide, his jacket sliding back, revealing the guns strapped to his body. No wonder he needed the chair; it would be difficult to walk upright with that much added weight. He was lean but not overly muscular.
His ego would be his downfall. Hopefully soon, if my plans panned out.
“Tell me why we’re here, then, wasting my time.”
“I want to know who shot my dad.”
Cian didn’t look surprised. He would most likely have guessed the reason for our meeting.
“How would I know?” he growled, sitting up straighter. “It wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Piercing him with a stare, I took in his tight features and rigid posture. He definitely knew something. And I had just the thing to entice him to share with me. “If you tell me what you know, I’ll give you the east district.”
His features evened out, and I knew I had him. He’d been after more territory for a long time, and I’d given him some when we negotiated last time. He thought I was an idiot for giving up our territory so easily.
But I didn’t make mistakes. Certainly not twice. He’d always been an arrogant prick. Thinking he was untouchable. Thinking he knew better than everyone else. And I knew how to work it to my advantage.
“I don’t know who shot your da. But you made a lot of enemies taking out Garret. Any one of them could have done it.”
I ground my teeth, thinking it might be worth the trouble if I punched him. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. And Garret was a cockroach who needed to be put down.”
Cian huffed, and the Hannibal Lecter look-alike stepped forward, the muscles in his neck bulging. The movement caused Cian to get up, holding his hand up. “Calm down.”
Gabriel stepped up next to me, his hand hovering over his gun.
The tension in the room kept climbing. “I think we’re done here. You obviously don’t know shit, and I’m done wasting my time.”
Cian shot a look at Hannibal and stood up. “I don’t know where it came from, but someone put a hit out on your da. One million for a kill shot. I heard there’s been a lot of interest.”
I stilled. Who in their right mind would order a hit on the head of my family? And why hadn’t I heard about this before now? “And you’re only telling me this now?” I growled the words, my beast fighting to break free and kill something.
He shrugged, looking entirely too unperturbed. “Why would I tell you? We’re not exactly pen pals.”
Forcing steady breaths into my lungs, I calmed myself enough to talk. “Who put out the hit?”
“How would I know? I didn’t take the job.”
Scraping together the last dregs of my patience, I asked another question. “Where was it posted?”
“Pussycat.”
I cursed at the mention of the strip club. It was a front for a range of other businesses. I avoided going there as much as possible. It was a cesspit, one I couldn’t show my face at after having had a disagreement with the owner a few years ago that ended with me taking his club apart.
I would send Jude to talk to him. He could charm a rock into changing color.
“Anything else you failed to mention?”
Cian smirked at me. “Nah. Not this time.”
“Fuck you.”
I turned to walk out, and he called after me. “You’re welcome. And I’ll be moving into the east district tomorrow, so you better make sure you’re gone.”
Giving him the finger over my shoulder, I left.
Getting back into the limo we’d taken, I exhaled. The information was only a small piece of the puzzle. I didn’t know anyone who would be ballsy enough to put out a hit on a member of my family.
