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“It’s my word you should concern yourself with.” Relaxing back in my chair, I tsk. “Please hand me the folder to your right.” Casper’s father slides it across the table to me, his stare never wavering on the man who has no business being the head of a respected trafficking ring. When his father was alive, Sr. made sure to anticipate needs, adjust pricing to market demand, and compete with a quality rivalling that of the American and the British army.
This man is a joke.
Useless.
“Please think this through. No one can supply what I can.”
“Wrong.” I open the file and grab the top sheet, skimming down, and then passing it along.
“What’s this?” Instead of answering, I point to it and wait. Alfie’s eyes lower and read, face pinching tight while the paper in his hand crumbles. “How could you do this? We have an agreement—”
He doesn’t get to finish. My finger’s quicker than his reactions, and I shoot once, the bullet going through his arm and embedding itself into the wall behind him. “This has been a long time coming, in my opinion. You’ve relied too much on your father’s legacy to keep up with the demands of loyal clients. The last three deliveries have been rubbish, your attitude obnoxious, and quite frankly, I can’t see myself continuing this working relationship without slitting your throat.”
“Callum, I—”
“It’s Mr. Jameson to you.” Pushing my chair back, I stand and lean over the table. “We’re done, and as you can see,” I hiss, hand slamming atop the new contract I signed yesterday with a Spaniard bloke who brings more to the table than guns. “I already made my decision. Leave with pride, or inside of a body bag. The choice is yours.”
With that, I pick up my mobile and walk out of what is now my office. My father and uncle will see them out, while I have a more pressing matter to attend to. I press the number one on my mobile and her name flashes across the screen, ringing twice before her light breathing comes across the line.
The pub is not busy at the moment as I exit the establishment and pull out a joint. I light it up and take a deep drag, warming my lungs with the earthy smoke. It’s soothing. My body calms.
“Talk to me, Venus. Everything okay?”
Whatever she hears in my voice makes her giggle, and fuck, I’m hard at once. Throb. “I’m fine, silly. Just have some news.”
“Oh yeah? You coming to visit me?”
“I wish,” she mutters low, but I hear. I also don’t question it. “This is actually about our family vacation, Mr. Jameson. We have a date.”
“When you call me Mr. Jameson…” reaching down, I adjust myself, squeezing a bit “…the only thing I want to do is bend you over my knee, love. I want to make that gorgeous arse a pretty shade of pink.”
“Promise?”
“Naughty little thing.”
My response makes her laugh again. The sound so sweet. “Behave. You’re far away and my hand needs a break.”
Fuck. That image is dangerous. For me. For her. I’d break her.
It’s been too long since I’ve had her. Touched her.
“Tempting me—”
“We’re heading to Bora Bora for a week,” Aliana interrupts, her tone a bit nervous. The change in her lilt is minor, but almost as if she’s embarrassed. Cute. “The entire Rubens family is going.”
“You excited?” Another deep pull of my spliff, deeper inhale this time, and I hold it in for a few seconds before exhaling slowly. “Packed yet?”
“Sure.”
Not the answer I’m expecting and my brows furrow. “Do you not want to go?”
“I do, but I’ll miss you.”
Present…
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Giannis.
“Yes.” He lets out a grumbled groan. “I told her to tell you. To ask for help.”
