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Paul lunges for me again. I make sure he’s on camera, clear as day. This is great evidence, should I need it.
The guards stop him just before he reaches me.
Shame.
A bit of blood and a bribe would’ve done the trick, landing him in jail.
The guards grip either side of his arms tight.
He shrugs them off and points at me again. “I will come after you. I will come after all of you. I will find the things you care about, and I will dismantle them the same way you dismantled my company.”
My security guards lead him out.
Once, not so long ago, he had power.
Then Matteo and Lorenzo squashed him like a bug.
A part of me feels bad. After all, he was trying to go legit. But a bigger part knows he’s full of shit.
Like most of my clients, men like him might say they are trying to go legit, but it’s really a front.
Take Tobias, for example. No way will he ever really be out of the game.
Look at Alaric, Matteo, and Cyrus. They’re married and starting families of their own. They still get involved with illegal shit all the time, even if they technically aren’t working in the same capacity anymore.
Pulling out my cell, I call my brother-in-law.
He answers on the first ring.
“What?” the prick says.
“Hello to you, too, Cyrus.”
“I’m busy, Trent.” He sighs. “Unless this is important—”
“It is,” I cut him off.
My relation to his wife is the only reason he allows me this luxury of speaking back to him and keeping my life.
“Speak.”
“Paul was here. He’s on to us. He knows we shorted his stock.” Standing from my desk, I begin to move to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“How?”
I take in the city. As if New York will have the answers I need.
“Not sure.”
He groans, clearly annoyed by this new information. “I thought you handled this.”
“I did. I bought everything with our offshore accounts. It’s not traceable.”
The line is silent.
Cyrus is probably thinking about what I said.
Finally, he says, “Well, obviously, it is.”
