“I have no weaknesses,” Elio replied. There was a sudden calmness in his tone like he was taking Sloan’s advice. Good choice from him. If anyone knew what they were doing, it was Sloan Killough. He’d been raised in this atmosphere by a man who dominated the East Coast with an iron fist, or at least, that was the case according to stories I’d heard from my father.
“Your concern for Matteo says otherwise.” Sloan’s smirk turned condescending. “I know what it’s like to own someone I would... miss if something happened to him, Elio, but as a boss, you must keep a clear mind. Always.”
Elio stared at him for a long moment. The air in the room boiled with tension. The Italians clutched their AR-15s tighter in their hands, ready to fire on us at any point. Finally Elio waved his hand. The Italians relaxed and so did we.
“I appreciate our partnership, Sloan.” Elio stepped back and clasped his hands together in front of him. “And your advice. If you’re sure they’ll attack here next, we need to be ready.”
“They want to destroy you, make you useless to the other families. To do that they take away your livelihood. They’ll be here soon. We’ll hide in the back and surprise them when they arrive.” Sloan glanced at us, his ocean-blue eyes darkening. He turned to Willow. “Can you handle the front?”
Willow crossed her arms. “I’ve been taking care of this place for years, and I won’t let some bastards come in and destroy my hard work. I’m fine.”
“How will we know when they’re here?” Elio asked. “I won’t let anything happen to Willow. She’s been a loyal worker for a long time.”
Sloan’s mouth curled. “I have my ways.”
“I want to know.” Elio crossed his arms, and his jaw tensed. “You may have more experience in being the boss, Sloan, but we are allies. I am not beneath you. And you need me as much as I need you. I’m your leverage in the Five Families.”
Sloan raised his chin and stared. “Be very careful how you speak to me, Elio, or you’ll live to regret it.” The silence stretched out between them until Sloan spoke again. “I have a contact who hacked the city street cameras. He’s keeping an eye out for our enemies and will call me when they arrive.”
Elio nodded and backed away, leading his horde of men through a brown door that led into a long hallway. The next door on the left was a secondary waiting room for the clients who were there for therealtreat behind Relax Inc., and I guessed that was where we’d be waiting for the impending arrival of the Giordano men.
Sloan tilted his head, and we followed him into the same hallway and through to the waiting area. Inside was just like the last time I visited, with brown leather couches, as well as a poker table in the center of the room that had seven black chairs surrounding it. In the times the business was running, a card dealer would be there, too.
Elio was already in the room by the time we reached it, his men gathered around him like a brick wall. One of his soldiers—a tall guy with thin lips, black hair pinned up in a man bun, and a nasty, fresh-looking gash across the length of his chin—got in close to Elio and they whispered to each other.
Sloan moved to one of the couches, while a few of the Italians took a seat at the poker table. Cillian and Rowen did, too, placing their guns on the floor beside them—Rowen only had a Beretta Storm because unless it was a sniper rifle, he hated the bigger guns—but I stayed back. Gambling had never been my thing, unlike Cillian, who enjoyed a good bet. When it came to Fallon’s fights, I put some money on the table but only because it was Fallon.
Sloan crossed his leg over his knee and leaned back into the leather, tapping on his phone incessantly with a deep-seated frown.
I stepped toward him, arms crossed, with my M16 hanging from its strap against my side. “Where’s your pet, sir? I didn’t think he would let you come alone.”
Sloan grunted with a rare, gentle smile he saved for Conall. I liked the boss’s pet because he gave Sloan a run for his money and helped him with the business. He didn’t live like a rich king in a castle; he put in the hard work, too. The men of the Company saw it and respected it—or at least, most of us did. Everyone else kept their mouth shut so Sloan wouldn’t shoot them where they stood. Conall did a lot more than any of Sloan’s previous pets.
“Conall is....” His smile widened. “Currently occupied.”
I raised my eyebrows, and he laughed.
“I will not have my pet in danger, Aspen. Like Cillian, I want to protect what’s mine. So, he is currently locked in a room with soldiers guarding the door. The difference is, my pet is tied in ropes with his pretty ripe arse up in the air, ready for me to get home and destroy his hole.”
I shivered as the image flashed in my mind. Sloan and Conall were both attractive men, but it wasn’t them I was thinking about—it was Vail. He was home right now with Fallon doing God knew what, and I was jealous, even if Fallon probably wasn’t in the condition to do anything fun. I would prefer to be home with them, fucking my cock deeply into Vail’s hole until I’d filled him with my spunk. Now the sex would have to wait until after we dealt with this problem—which wasn’t a bad thing. After we went through a dangerous ordeal, Cillian and I were always horny as fuck.
“What do ye say, lads? Want a game with me?” Cillian grinned around at the Italians at the table and only one shook his head. He stood and was replaced by a guy who did want to play. They didn’t have cash on them, but the Italian who didn’t want to play took note of bets and money owed.
I shook my head and took a seat beside Sloan, laying the rifle over my knees. Anything between the Italians and the Irish always got tense, and this poker game would be no different. If the Giordanos didn’t come soon, someone would still be dead.
I fiddled on my phone and typed out messages to Vail, but he didn’t respond, which didn’t concern me. He was probably taking care of Fallon, since he seemed worried about him on the plane. The idea of them curled up together, all clingy and sweet and sleeping, had an unexpected happiness bouncing around inside me.
Rowen grunted in irritation, and I glanced over at the poker table to see if he needed me. He was supervising Cillian, making sure he didn’t kill anyone in the process of winning his hand, and I was glad that wasn’t my job. Cillian was tough to handle on the best of days. I enjoyed his company, though, and he was one of the few friends I had in this world. At one point I’d thought we could be something... more, but our personalities had never meshed enough for a relationship. We were both hardheaded and needed the control. It wouldn’t have ever worked. But I watched him as he gloated over a good card. Yeah, we all had our regrets, and I’d never quite gotten over that one.
“Worried about your boy?” Sloan drawled with a sly twist of his mouth. Someone shifted nearby and the light hit the side of his face directly, illuminating his scar. It made him appear more sinister than ever.
“He’s fine,” I said shortly. “He’s with Fallon at home.”
Something passed over Sloan’s face I couldn’t quite place. Italmostlooked like guilt, but Sloan Killough didn’t do guilt; it wasn’t in his emotion dictionary.
His phone buzzed and he answered it with a simple “Killough.” He listened to whoever was on the other end and stood quickly, straightening and holding up a finger in a gesture that we knew asget ready.
We went into soldier mode. In the middle of a game or not, Cillian knew his duty and dropped his cards and stood, picking up the HK416 automatic rifle from where he’d laid it on the floor.
