"Carson and his crew. The ones handling distribution on the east side."
I know that name. Or at least, I've heard it. Eli Carson is one of the notorious drug lords Todd's been promising to put behind bars for years. He's never done it, but the empty promises keep his donors happy.
And he works for Kade.
The disappointment that floods through me is sharper than the pain in my knees. I look up at Kade and see the coldness in his eyes as he processes this information.
Kade must catch my expression because his smirk turns vicious. His fingers stroke through my hair again, the gesture almost affectionate if it weren't for the chain attaching me to his belt loop. Am I his pet or his keychain?
"Something to say, Princess?" he asks, voice dripping false sweetness.
I press my lips tighter together.
Now I know why he brought me here. He wanted me to know. For there to be no denying that everything he said before was true.
They're not the boys I left behind.
Not anymore.
"That's what I thought." He looks back to Marco. "Tell Cyrus to track every transaction Carson has made in the past six months. I want to know exactly how much he's stolen, who he's selling to, and every dirty little secret he's got buried."
"Already on it, boss." Marco pulls out his phone, typing rapidly. "Cy's been monitoring since we got the tip."
"Good." Kade's hand slides from my hair to the back of my neck, gripping just tight enough to be a warning. "Set up a meeting. Tonight. Tell Carson I want to discuss expanding operations. Make it sound like I don't know about his side deals."
"You gonna kill him?" Marco asks it casually, like he's asking about the weather instead of murder.
"Depends on how cooperative he is." Kade's thumb rubs circles on my neck, and I hate how my body responds to the touch. How my pulse jumps, and not because of the violent conversation happening above my head. "But probably."
Probably. Like it's nothing. Like ending someone's life is just another business decision to be made over coffee and spreadsheets.
I close my eyes, trying to reconcile this Kade with the boy who got sent to juvie for burning a mailbox just so Tank wouldn't be alone. Who made me a bracelet in metal shop and wrote me poetry.
Every fire needs something to burn for.
Guess he found his fuel in blood money and violence.
"Anything else?" Marco shifts his weight, and his eyes land on me again. This time, the interest is more blatant. More invasive.
My stomach turns.
Kade notices. His hand tightens on my neck, and the gesture feels almost protective even as it reminds me I'm property.
"We're good," Kade says, his voice carrying an edge that wasn't there before. "Get the fuck out."
Marco moves toward the door, but not before throwing one more glance my way. "Nice pet you got there, boss. You let me know when you're done with her and I'll handle Carson for free."
The temperature drops another ten degrees.
Kade's hand doesn't move from my neck, but I feel every muscle in his body go rigid. Jinx sits up straighter on his throne, his hand more obviously on whatever weapon he's hiding now.
"What did you just say?" Kade's voice is quiet. Like the quiet that comes before explosions.
Marco seems to realize his mistake, but he's already committed. He tries for casual, fails spectacularly. "I said she's pretty. Just making conversation, boss. No disrespect."
"No disrespect," Kade repeats slowly, like he's tasting the words. "You think commenting on what's mine isn't disrespectful?"
"I didn't mean—look, I was just—" Marco's backpedaling now, hands up in a placating gesture that screams guilty. "It was a joke, yeah? Just guys talkin'. Didn't mean anything by it."
