TRANSFER THE MONEY OR I WILL MAKE YOU REGRET IT.
YOU HAVE THIRTY DAYS.
I stare at the letter,rage burning through me. Who the fuck is this person and what do they want from me?
Well, what they want is simple, but why are they bothering me? Why won’t they just show their fucking faces and not hide behind threats?
Instead of going to check on what Jadon is up to, I make an about face and march to the bar.
When I see the server that delivered the parcel, I slam my hand down on the bar. She jumps and yelps, holding her hand over her heart. “Who gave you this?” She stammers, and I slam my hand down three more times. “Fucking answer me. Who gave it to you?”
“I don’t know,” she shrieks. “Some guy. He had on a hat and a face mask. I just thought he was one of those paranoid sorts that didn’t wanna get sick. Did I…did I fuck up? Please, Mr. Whitlock. I’m sorry. I really need this job. I didn’t know?—”
Growling, I storm away from the bar. “We need to figure out who thefucksent this. Now!”
We take the elevator to the top floor, my breathing almost out of control.
This dickhead was close to me, close enough that he could have taken me out if he wanted and I didn’t know. This shit has to end. And it won’t be by me giving up millions of dollars.
Before we step out of the elevator, Austin asks, “You got trouble, boss?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I growl as I march to my office. I sit behind my desk and pull up my search engine. Since this courier isn’t one of the major ones, I have to find any that are in Jersey or neighboring states. Then I have to narrow down the exact location to?—
“Gotcha,” I whisper as a courier about ten miles away pops up. Their website shows the same logo stamped on the envelope. I type the address into my phone and pull up directions. I know exactly where they’re located.
Collecting my things, I gesture to Austin and Donny. “Let’s roll.”
Before we head to the courier office, I go to IT and tell them to run the footage for the floor. I locate the man that gave the server the letter, but like she said, the man had on a hat, sunglasses, and a face mask. No identifying markers that I could see.
We head to the garage, Austin clearing it before I hop in my car. “Follow me and make sure no one else is.” Austin looks confused, but hurries to his car as I peel out.
I rack my brain as I weave in and out of traffic, trying to figure out who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to blackmail me. They have to have a fucking death wish. If anything happened to me, Carter would tear the city apart for payback. We’re the sons of Dominic Whitlock, the man thatsingle-handedly killed an entire family when they killed our mom.
Well, almost single-handedly. Carter caught a body that day. I caught a bullet.
My hand drifts down to my rib, to the scar that was left behind. My heart rate slows and I’m able to think clearly about what I need to do—get information and find the fucking wiseass that wants to extort me.
I glance over at my empty passenger seat, my heart aching. Hendrix always bitched about me driving, saying it was his job, but he let me be because he knew I liked to be in control.
That’s why it’s still striking me as funny that I let Nico order me around andfuck mewithout complaint, barely any push back. I got snarky a time or two, but as usual, my words bounced off Nico like he was made of fucking Teflon.
He has me so fucking confused and I have no one to talk to about it.
I pull up to the courier service a few minutes later and my mind shifts back to the matter at hand. Before I head inside, I check my gun, making sure my clip is full. I flick off the safety and step out of the car. Austin and Donny pull up beside me, and they bracket me as we enter the store.
The bell above the door rings, and a bubbly girl looks up from her computer. She audibly gulps, seeing me and two men the size of tanks standing before her. Still, she’s a professional, smiling widely as she says, “Welcome in. How can I help you?”
I pull the envelope from my inside breast pocket, making sure I flash my gun so she knows not to fuck with me. Fear fills her eyes as she looks at what I have in my hands. “Who sent this?”
“Sir?” she asks, her bottom lip trembling. “I don’t?—”
“This is your logo, no?” I tap the back of the envelope where the logo is ripped through.
She nods. “Ye-yes. But…I can’t give out that information.”
I snap my fingers and Donny steps around the counter and bumps the girl off her stool. “Hey!” she shouts, her hands on her hips.
Donny glares down at her and she shrinks away, pressing her back to the wall.
