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A blood red ruby glistened against the velvet, and the diamonds surrounding it practically glowed.
“Holy fuck,” Talon said on a breath.
“I don’t know who this chick is or how you found her, but she snags some seriously righteous shit.”
“Long story,” Talon muttered, not taking his eyes from the ring.
“That’s what you always say,” Brick sighed.
Years ago, when Gate had made a play for the club and Moose had walked, one of Gate’s first moves had been getting some distance between the Dragons and the drug trade.
It had been a smart play, considering the hard on elected officials had gotten about dealers and jail time.
Talon’s hookers picked up some of the financial slack, and it hadn’t taken Gate and T long to branch out into more reliable revenue.
Talon had started out small scale, organizing security for the girls and pulling in fenced goods on the side.
The more contacts he developed in the black market, the more his reputation grew, and pretty soon, he was one of the big fish in the East Coast stolen goods pond.
People came to him with requests and tip offs, and Talon’s international network was born.
And then he’d met some sweet young thing in the U.K., and the stolen swag had really taken off.
Brick didn’t know how the Brit got her goods loaded on the boat, who she trusted that much, but she did, it stayed safe, and Brick pulled it through the docks. Talon did the rest.
The operation had been flawless until the goat screw that had killed Smoke.
But the club needed revenue, bills needed to be paid, so Talon kept the goods moving.
“Already got a buyer on the hook,” Talon said, closing the lid of the jewel case.
“Of course, you do,” Brick grinned, closing the safe door and spinning the tumbler. “You taking with?”
“Yeah,” Talon said, sliding the case into a pocket on the inside of his cut. He snapped it secure and made for the door. “Hit Gate for me, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Brick said, returning to the documents on his desk.
“Later,” Talon said. Then he was out the door.
Brick wondered vaguely what kind of woman it took to be this kind of slick.
But then he picked up his phone and sent Gate adelivery pendingtext, and by the time he read Gate’s reply, he’d forgotten what he’d been wondering and why it was important.
Chapter Four
We’ll See How It Goes
Nine
Friday night at Club Monaco, and the place was slammed.
Not that anyone on the outside would know.
That was the best thing about Monaco. Very few people knew it existed, and those who did didn’t talk about it.
It was kind of likeFight Club, but without the fighting.
Exclusive was the name of Club Monaco’s game, and those who played there paid an exclusive price for it.
