“I don’t do favors for people in your line of work.”
“You do now.”
Kovac’s jaw tightens. “What do you want?”
I slide the charity gala invitation across the table. “Your wife is organizing this event. I need to be on the guest list.”
He glances at the invitation and shakes his head. “Margaret has already closed the list. She’s not adding anyone.”
“Then convince her to make an exception.”
“And why would I do that?”
I lean forward slightly. “Because your import business operates in territories I control. The docks where your shipments come through, the warehouses where you store goods before distribution, and the contacts who help you move product without attracting too much attention from customs. All of that exists because I allow it to exist.”
Kovac’s face goes pale. “You’re threatening me.”
“I’m explaining reality. You have a business that relies on my goodwill. I’m asking for something small in return. An invitation to a charity event. That’s all.”
“What if I refuse?”
“Then your next shipment gets held up at the docks indefinitely. Customs might get an anonymous tip about irregularities in your paperwork. Your warehouses might experience unexpected delays. Small problems at first, but they’ll add up. Eventually, your business stops being profitable.”
Kovac stares at me with undisguised hatred, but I can see him weighing his options and realizing he doesn’t have any good ones.
“One invitation,” he says finally. “That’s all you get.”
“That’s all I need.”
“And after that, we’re done. No more favors, no more meetings. You stay away from my business and my family.”
“Agreed.”
He stands up, and I can see his hands shaking slightly with suppressed anger. “You’re a bastard, Rourke.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
He leaves without another word, and I sit there alone with my coffee and the knowledge that I just burned a business relationship for a chance to see Aurelia.
Worth it.
Two days later, an invitation arrives at my office. Embossed card stock, my name printed in elegant script, confirming my attendance at the charity gala.
I hold it up to the light and smile.
The two weeks pass slowly.
I handle business, manage operations, and deal with the endless logistics of running an organization that spans multiple cities. But underneath all of it is the constant awareness that Aurelia is back, that she’s in the same city I am, that soon I’m going to see her again.
My people report limited information. She’s staying at the Vance estate, where security is tight. Julian has her locked down, whether for protection or control, we can’t tell. She’s been seen a few times in public, always with security. No detailed surveillance or clear patterns. Just glimpses.
It’s frustrating, but it doesn’t matter. Soon, I’ll have all the access I need.
16
AURELIA
My dress is beautiful.
