With a quick nod, I returned my gaze to the doors, hoping he’d get the hint. I didn’t want to waste my time on mindless chatter.
“Enjoying the party then?” he persisted, oblivious to my silent plea.
I clenched my jaw and felt my eye twitch in annoyance. Why was he talking to me? What gave him the impression I wanted to talk, and how could I put an end to it?
I threw him a glare.
He nodded before continuing. “I heard Rose won the game of poker. Can you picture that?”
This got my attention.Rosalie.I could still hear the woman. The sound of her voice, high and shrill—I could never seem to escape it. If I gave the woman any more thought than I already did, I’d drive myself mad.
Images of Rosalie and her irresponsible ways, the carelessness that had left me sleepless with worry for nights on end, played out in my head relentlessly. I couldn’t fathom her stubborn refusal to take even the most basic of safety precautions, such as locking the door. I was tempted to talk to her father about it, but that would draw too much unwanted attention. Every damn second of every damn day, I had to fight the urge to have a security system installed in her apartment so I could get a decent night’s sleep.
“Yes, I can picture that,” I admitted. I knew she was good at bluffing. I could see right through her, but no one else could.
Finally—though not soon enough—Liam walked in, just in time to save his precious clock. A tall shadow stretched across the checkered floor, revealing a face I didn’t recognize at first. It was obscured by the harsh overhead light. Then, as the man stepped further into the room, recognition hit me.
It was Marco.
What the fuck was he doing here? He was the last person I wanted to see working with the Clarkes.
His gaze traveled to mine, then a slow, predatory smile spread across his face.
Just like Valentina, Marco was going to play me. Both of them were cut from the same cloth, masters of manipulation.
My fingers instinctively raked across my chin.
The thing about Marco was that he didn’t care if you were his friend or his enemy; he’d work with anyone as long as they offered the right price, which was probably why he was here, in this office. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d tell Liam everything for a few extra bucks.
Marco was the only person who’d ever challenged me in a way thatreallychallenged me. I could never get too comfortable around him. He knew too much—even more so now. He was never honest, and neither was I.
If Marco told Liam the truth about who I was, it could bring the whole house of cards crashing down.
“Good to see you Max,” he greeted. “Sean.” He forced out the unpleasant sound of phlegm cracking as he cleared his throat.
I nodded. “You as well.”
Liam had made me his second man years ago. I’d gained his trust, no matter how much I didn’t deserve it. Whether it was the runs I’d make at two in the morning or the blood that needed to be mopped, I did it all for him, and I had for a few years.
He confided in me as if I held the key to all his answers while he offered me scotch like I was his best friend—which was exactly what I wanted. He was completely oblivious to the fact I’d been making a mental note of everything he said. It felt like I could get Liam to believe anything that fell from my lips by simply snapping my fingers.
“I’ve been meaning to show you the marina,” he said, handing me a glass of scotch. I hated the stuff, but I drank it anyway.
“It’s a nice system, I’ll bet,” I said, eager to get information from him.
He nodded. “Opium distribution. Cillian wouldn’t like it, but the profit margins were too good to pass up.”
Cillian was Liam’s brother-in-law, a man with a voice—and opinions—that could silence a room.
“He works with the Americans, doesn’t he? The Callahan brothers?”
“Yes. And the Callahan brothers work primarily with the Feds. I don’t want Cillian anywhere near the marina because of that.”
Liam knew exactly what he was doing, and there was no argument to be made. Working with the marina meant he had the whole ocean working for him. He didn’t need any alliances for that, which was exactly why I wanted in.
“So you managed it?” I pressed.
Liam took a long sip of his scotch, the amber liquid catching the dim light as he swirled it in his glass. He shrugged. “Somewhat.”
