“Perhaps we shouldn’t be too nice to him,” the Scheduler mutters.
“Not your place, Dominic.” Gabriel’s voice carries a steel edge. The men shift on their feet, hostility threading the air.
“My place is with your father always,” Dominic says mildly, twirling an antique pen between his fingers.
Interesting.
“Fine. Come in.”
Once inside, Dominic closes the door. Gabriel tosses him his coat. The Scheduler catches it and dips his head.
He’s careful, deferential—too deferential—a man playing a part.
“Where’s your wife?” Gabriel asks as I lead them down the hall.
“None of your business.”
We settle into my office. The tension ratchets up, a powder keg waiting to explode.
I rest my hands on the desk. “If you have something to say, say it. My patience is short today.”
Gabriel smiles faintly and nods at Dominic. The Scheduler moves forward, lighting a cigar for him. Smoke curls between us.
“My father sends his regards,” Gabriel says. “And we have a problem. I’d like you to deal with it.”
“What problem?”
“The Berishas,” he replies. “Particularly Agron. Unstable oldest son. Too much bloodshed. Bad for business. And they’re greedy.” He swirls his hand. “Case in point. Why do you think they’re after the evidence?”
Ah. I flick my lighter, understanding dawning.An internal feud for power.
“How does this concern me?”
“You’re a dealer of secrets, Elias. When your wife receives her little delivery tonight, I want you to hand it to us, not them.”
I study him. “Andif I don’t?”
His smile fades. “Then we find out who breaks first—you or her. Personally, I prefer to keep things civilized. I quite like Lana.”
My fingers curl around the lighter. It’s either that or strangle him.
Dominic steps forward, holding out a folder. “For you.”
Inside are surveillance photos. New York City. A familiar SUV with Illinois plates. The same one that tailed Lana a few months ago.
My stomach drops. “It was you?”
I thought it was the damn Berishas. Not knowing this info could’ve killed her. Unacceptable oversight.
Gabriel chuckles. “You always think too small. The Berishas were useful once. They have clubs, hotels, and land. Real estate comes in handy when you want to move things around the globe. But their time is ending. The Andersons have what they have, but better. But that damn family is stubborn as fuck.”
He leans forward, brow cocked. “They needed a good reason to join us. An inside force. You needed a little push to join The Association. I gave you that push. You’re smart enough to know which family is winning this war. Join ours, and your past crimes disappear.”
Check. Fucking. Mate.
If I didn’t hate him so much, I’d applaud. It’s not every day that I meet a worthy opponent.
His gaze grows cold. “Or find out what happens when you cross my family. Or better yet, whatwillhappen to your wife.”
