Tristan Broussard has terms. He also has the upper hand. And I don’t think that he’s bluffing.
7
Tristan Broussard
Conrad Grant standswhen I enter my office. It’s a show of respect, but I’m not held in high regard by this man. Disregarding the fact that I kidnapped his beloved only daughter, the man despises me simply for the Broussard blood running through my veins. But I have no beef with Conrad. He’s never stepped foot into one of my casinos.
“Welcome to my home, Mr. Grant.”
“Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”
“I think that you mean with no notice.” Unannounced visitors. Another thing that I loathe. But I’ll cut Conrad some slack for this unscheduled visit, considering that I am the one who provoked it.
“I wouldn’t have shown up at all if you hadn’t kidnapped my daughter.”
“No. I suppose that you wouldn’t, and we wouldn’t be about to have a conversation regarding Emma Lia.”
I cross my office to my wet bar and take out two glasses. “Could I interest you in a scotch?”
“I could stand a drink.”
“Neat suit you?”
“Neat’ll do just fine.”
“Sit. Make yourself at home.”
His narrowed eyes watch me for a moment before he sits in one of the chairs opposite my desk.
I remove the stopper on the decanter and pour two fingers for myself. A little more for Conrad Grant since he looks like he could use something to calm his nerves. The man is shaking like a fucking leaf in a windstorm.
His trembling hand takes the glass from my steady one. “Are you okay?”
“Parkinson’s. Can’t control the shakes anymore.”
“I didn’t know.” I had heard that Conrad Grant hadn’t been on the scene in a while. This explains why. “I’m guessing that you’ve retired permanently?”
He chuckles and holds out his hand palm side down, demonstrating the severity of his condition. “Don’t have much of a choice when this is what your hand does every moment of every day.”
“I suppose that does make for a significant problem when you’re trying to not call attention to yourself.”
He takes a large gulp from his glass. “That is some fine scotch.”
“Glenmorangie Grand Vintage. Aged twenty-five years.”
He holds up his glass. “This scotch is older than my little girl.”
I’ve seen his daughter naked. She is definitely not a little girl. “Let’s talk about Emma Lia.”
“Let’s talk about how much it’s going to take for me to walk out of here with her tonight.”
I might as well break the bad news to him. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”
His face is blood red. I bet his blood pressure is nearing stroke level. “Everything has a price, Broussard. Tell me what my daughter’s is. You know that I’m good for it.”
Conrad Grant has been a cheat for more than thirty years. Asuccessfulcheat. He’s nowhere as rich as I am, but I’m quite certain he could afford to pay a pretty penny for his daughter’s return if that’s what I wanted.
“There are certain things that I don’t excuse in my casino and cheating is at the top of that list. Oddly, it has nothing to do with the money that is taken. It’s pride, Conrad. I have an image to uphold, and I look like a fool when a twenty-something-year-old girl comes into my casino and takes me for a hundred grand. Money isn’t going to replace my tarnished image, and it isn’t going to repay the debt that she owes me.”
