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.”
