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“Seems that way,” I muttered, heading inside the building. It was fucking cold outside and there was no way I was having this conversation while I froze my ass off.
My irritation had already reached an extreme level.
No sense in compounding my fury.
“Maybe she’s telling the truth?” Malice posited, closing the door behind us as I headed for the meeting room.
Shaking my head, I rubbed the back of my neck. “She’s lying about something. I fucking know it.”
“Well,” Montana said taking a seat at the table in the small room. “Let’s hope Romano can shed some light on this fucking mystery, because my gut is telling me we’ve got trouble coming, and you fucking know I hate being blindsided.”
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Illyria smiled, walking into the meeting room as if she owned the place, and technically, she did. The Gentlemen’s Club was now her baby and the only natural place in the city that catered to every organization. No one went against Illyria Valentinetti Fedorov. Doing so would be an instant death sentence. Not only would her husband, Maxim Fedorov, kill anyone who dared harm one hair on his wife’s head, but her ties to the Italian Mafia also solidified her persona non grata.
The woman was untouchable.
“As per your request, Montana, the wet bar is fully stocked and ready. The second your guests arrive, the private room will be yours for the duration. Do you need anything else?”
“No, beautiful.” Montana smiled up at the stunningly gorgeous woman.
There were only two reasons for a private room at the Gentlemen’s Club. A wet bar meant it was a private conversationwith no cameras. If someone requested the full menu, well, that meant someone would need the services of a cleaning crew, of which the Gentlemen’s Club provided at an extra charge.
“Before I forget,” Illyria spoke sweetly. “My girls will be arriving around eleven tonight for the meet and greet. I have selected a superb group of women for the brothers to choose from. As per our contract, I expect payment before the brothers take possession. Also, I have a special request.”
“What’s that?” Montana asked.
“One of my girls, Katie, has requested a meeting with a particular brother.”
“You know I have nothing to do with who my brothers pick.”
“She’s not asking to be picked, Montana. She is requesting a meeting.”
“Which brother?” I asked, curiously.
“You.”
My head snapped up as Illyria glared at me.
“She wants to speak with me? Why?”
“She wouldn’t say, Mercy,” Illyria snipped.
“Where is the bitch now?” Montana questioned, looking at me.
“In my office.”
“She pregnant?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Bring her in,” I said, sitting up a little straighter.
Illyria said nothing more as she left, closing the door behind her.
“Got any reasons why this bitch wants to speak with you, Mercy?”
“No fucking clue.”
Moments later, the door opened and in walked a young, pretty blonde woman who couldn’t be no older than mid-twenties. The girl looked so out of place it was unreal. Dressed ina woolen sweater, standard jeans, and comfortable tennis shoes, the girl looked like she stepped right off the farm.
