My stomach falls. Eli and the others have to pay back all the money Mr. Parker gave my stepmom? But that must be a million dollars, maybe more.
“Capital Nine has done a thorough investigation of Zachery Parker’s financial records. And we’ve concluded thirty million dollars is to be paid to Parker Enterprise Holdings.”
I gasp.
Everyone turns to look at me and I fight to return my expression to blank ambivalence. I feel like I’m falling down a long, dark hole. Thirty million dollars.Thirty million dollars…How could my stepmom have taken so much money? How could no one have told me?
A smile quirks Mr. Parker’s mouth. “You were an expensive investment, January. Not that I consider it money well spent.”
I try to divide a thousand into thirds. Try not to move a muscle.
“I’ll thank you not to speak to Miss Whitehall,” Eli says coldly.
Mr. Parker leans back in his chair. “Contract isn’t signed yet.”
Fuck you, his eyes say.Fuck you and your whore.
“Upon signing the contract,” Mr. Bianchi says, a little louder. “Velvet House and Parker Enterprise Holdings will cease contact. The payments will be brokered through Capital Nine and anyone attempting to converse outside our influence will be considered in violation of the contract. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” Eli and the boys say in unison.
“Yes,” Mr. Parker drawls.
“Then we’ll proceed with signing the contract.” The old man clicks his fingers and one of the assistants brings forward another heavy leather folder. He places it, and a fancy pen, in front of Eli.
“You only need one signature each. Final page,” the man murmurs. “It’s been marked.”
Eli opens the folder to the last page. Out of the corner of my eye I see their four names printed next to dotted lines.
Elliot Velluto Morelli
Domenico Salvatore Valente
Roberto Libero Bassilotta
Adriano Bohdan Rossi
And just below it.
Zachery Blake Parker
Eli signs quickly then passes the file to Bobby. Bobby signs just as fast before handing the document to Adriano. Doc goes last. He lets his pen hover for a few seconds before he scrawls his name. He leaves a huge inkblot on the page, but it’s done. The assistant comes forward to collect the document and I give a small sigh of relief. We’re so close. Maybe only minutes away from this being over.
The contract is placed in front of Mr. Parker. He stares at it, then shoves it aside. The atmosphere in the room goes icy.
“Is there a problem, Parker?” Mr. Bianchi demands.
“No,” Mr. Parker says. “I just want my lawyer to re-read the contract in full before I sign.”
Doc swears under his breath.
“That will take a significant amount of time,” Mr. Bianchi says testily.
Mr. Parker doesn’t shrink into his seat the way I would if Mr. Bianchi was talking to me like that. He folds his arms behind his head and smirks. “Then it’ll take a significant amount of time. I’m sorry, but anyone could have added to or altered the document and I’m not going to have that before I sign.”
“Fine,” the old man snaps. “But you’re inconveniencing all of us and insulting this entire endeavor by implying I haven’t fulfilled my brokerage duties.”
“Sorry.” Mr. Parker shoves the contract at the man on his right. “Read quickly, Martin.”
