Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
As soon as they do, they spot Matteo and me.
The greasy one walks forward with a smile.
“Matteo,” he calls, stopping a respectable distance away before acknowledging me next with a nod.
We let silence do the greeting.
His smile falters, then recovers. “Appreciate you both meeting us in person.”
“Appreciate you showing up,” Matteo replies, voice mild.
The buyer gestures behind him, and one of his guys drags a duffel toward the table. He drops it with a thud.
Rafe drifts over, fingers hooking the zipper, opening it.
So far, so good.
From where I’m sitting, I can clearly see the stacks of cash stuffed to the brim in the bag.
The buyer’s nostrils flare. “That’s the full amount.”
Rafe lifts a stack, thumbing the bills. “Relax. Nobody’s accusing you of anything . . . yet.”
The buyer forces a laugh. “We’re good for it.”
“Good,” I rest my fingertips on the table. “Because being bad for it ruins my mood and his.” I gesture to Matteo. “And when our mood gets ruined, people start losing things they need.”
I let my gaze slide to the buyer’s hands.
Then his throat.
Then back to his eyes.
He swallows.
Matteo shifts beside me, rolling his shoulders like he’s getting comfortable in the tension. “You two want to sing love songs, or are we doing business?”
The buyer’s eyes flick back to Matteo, confused, then to me, like he’s trying to figure out if this is my “friendly cousin” or my “loose cannon cousin.”
Both.
Rafe nods toward the crates. “Product’s ready.”
Vin snaps his fingers, and two of our men crack open a crate. One of the buyer’s men steps closer, reaching for a brick of cocaine.
Vin’s knife points at him in a warning.
The buyer’s guy freezes. Vin tilts his head, smiles sweet. “Ask first.”
The buyer lifts a hand, palm out. “Easy. We’re just verifying quality.”
“I’m going to need you to verify with your eyes.” Matteo strolls around the table. “I’m a man of my word. By touching it, you’re saying you don’t trust me . . . So what is it? Do you trust me?”
“Of course.” The buyer chuckles nervously.
“Good, that means we don’t need to take any fingers.” Matteo grins, looking sadistic.
Rafe’s mouth twitches.
I smile too.
“Matteo likes fingers. I like to take the whole hand,” I add. “We might be cousins, but we have different personalities.”
The buyer’s laugh dies in his throat. He nods quickly. “Right. Understood.”
Vin gestures at the product with a bored tilt of his chin. “Look all you want.”
The buyer leans in, peers, and nods like he has any idea what he’s looking at. “We’re good,” he announces, straightening.
“Fantastic,” I wave at the cash.
“Count it. Load your car. Then leave,” Matteo adds.
His men move fast after that. The money gets counted, and the product gets carried out.
When the last bag disappears into the SUV, the buyer pauses at the door. He glances at Matteo again, then at me. “Pleasure doing business.” He leaves in a hurry.
Matteo stays where he is, watching the car drive away before turning to me. He steps closer to where I’m sitting. “You’re off.”
My jaw tightens. “I’m fine.”
“Your face is doing that thing.” He taps his jaw. “The one where it looks like you’re deciding whether to kill someone, or well, I don’t know what else. You just look like you want to kill someone.”
“I’m not making a face.”
Matteo’s mouth lifts, amused. “Yeah, you are. You’re practically my brother. Trust me, I know you’re making a face.”
I reach for the ledger and flip it open. Matteo steps up beside me and closes it again. Matteo holds my gaze without flinching. He’s the only person on earth allowed to do this without getting killed.
“You can talk to me,” he says, quieter now.
I stare at him for a second. His concern is clear as day on his face. He’s right, he’s a brother to me, but I still can’t tell him what’s wrong.
My chest tightens.
“You want me to talk?” I stand and step around him. “Or you want me to entertain you with feelings?”
Matteo follows easily, matching my pace. “I want you to stop walking around like this.”
“I’m busy,” I reply, gesturing at the warehouse. “Your dad wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t work.”
He leans closer, lowering his voice. “This isn’t about work or my father.”
That’s where he’s wrong. This has everything to do with his father.
I can’t lose the only family I have, and if they find out what I’ve done, I will.
I laugh once, sharply.
Matteo’s eyes narrow. “You’re not sleeping.”
“Sleep is overrated,” I counter.
“You’re not eating.”
“Not true. I eat all the time.” I shake my head. “Did you come here to mother me?”
“Someone has to.”
I snort despite myself. It lasts half a second. Matteo catches it like a win.
“There it is.” He smiles, satisfied. “Still human. Barely.” I hate that he reads me so well.
I walk toward the office. Once inside, I head over to where a bottle of whiskey sits on a shelf. I grab it, twisting the cap with one hand.