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“Uneasy’s good. Helps with the plan.”
“That’s my family choker,” I say slowly, settling my gaze on the tiara next. “Something you want to tell me?”
“She stole them.”
“Obviously.” I pause. “Do you wear a dress and heels with that tiara?”
“Jac, you ass. I’m taking these family heirlooms out, and…” He tosses me something. My cufflinks. “Here.”
I pocket them as Hendrick nods to the other end of the table.
“In there,” he says, “are all the things they asked her to steal from the Quinate. Hang on to those. Ready to go to the meeting?”
“Think we can pull it off?”
He goes quiet. “We better, otherwise we might be fucked.”
I step into the dive and almost no one looks at me. In bar’s like this, people are going to look when a man walks in dressed up in tailored, bespoke clothes. Even moreso when the man looks like me.
That means two things.
They all know who I am.
And this is Quinate territory.
There are about ten people I recognize. An Androzani family member that the Quinate’s on the fence about. They like guns, which isn’t a problem. They like Kincaid prices and affiliations, which is.
It’s one thing to buy and use something, and another to get under the covers with pricks like Kincaid.
Speaking of, he’s there, too. He looks at me, and I deliberately acknowledge him, not looking forward to what’s coming.
Kincaid’s got his familiar entourage.
There are others, but I tick the ones here that we settled on as most likely in on this in my head: Gimboni, Della, O’Briein, Yaraslav.
There’s probably more but these are ones with ties to Kincaid, whether by buying guns and girls, or just running businesses for him.
Also tied to him in ways that mean in having grudge against us, specifically Agnossio.
Of the two of us, he’s seen as the more “by the book” type of asshole.
But we both denied Kincaid, which started a shut down.
The shut down may not be in full effect yet on him, so he thinks I can reverse it.
I order a drink, look at my watch, and wait.
Soon the shit’s going to hit fans, and while part of me’s pissed that Agnossio decided I’m not trustworthy enough for this role, another part of me’s a little pleased he trusts me enough.
I wait for my drink. Our plan’s simple, ballsy. Someone wants to use the bad blood so we’re going to help, and hopefully, when we go in the back room, the player—Kincaid—will step through and we’ll shut him down.
We hope.
We’re gambling with this. All the information we garnered points to someone spreading shit about me. About Agnossio. And taking the girl we’re both into? Bold. Getting to her run a fool’s errand? Odd. But I buy the idea that they think there’s a way in through jewels.
People have done stranger things.
We’re also gambling with MG. It’s a smarter gamble, play our cards before the two weeks are up and we bring them down. And MG lives.
