Ten minutes and eight throwing stars later, Mendoza holds his hand up.
“I’m not doing business, that’s the truth. I was just supposed to gather intel. Damien said it would be worth it.”
In less than one second, Carson goes from leaning casually against the wall to hovering over Mendoza with his hands around his neck.
“Say that again.”
“He can’t breathe,” I remind my brother. “Don’t kill him yet, we’re just getting to the good part.”
Carson’s face slowly turns to me, and I shake my head.
“Not. Yet.”
He loosens his hold and Mendoza takes a breath.
“Who are you spying on?” Mateo asks.
“You,” Mendoza replies without a beat. “All of you. That’s all I know. I gather whatever information I can and send it to an email address on the dark web, and I get paid.”
“I want to know what you’ve told him,” Rome says. “What do you think you know, Mendoza?”
“Mostly that Julian has a pretty new wife.”
“Now,” I say, and Carson tightens his hands again, squeezing until the man goes purple and the life drains out of his body.
“He might have had more information,” Mateo says casually.
“I’ll hack into his shit and find out exactly what he has. But I don’t buy for a second that he’s doing it for Damien. He said that name to get a rise out of Carson.”
“Worked,” Rome says.
“Did the Irish call to tell you Mendoza had been at the Four Leaf?” I ask.
“Yeah, this morning. My men found Mendoza in a room off the strip and brought him here. His belongings are in the room next door.”
“I’ll only need his electronics,” I reply. “The rest can go with him to the graveyard.”
We make our way back upstairs for dinner. When we walk into the penthouse, we can hear the girls laughing in the kitchen.
Christ, I love my wife’s laugh.
“They were doing it out in the open,” Natasha says, and I pause. We all stop before Natasha can see that we’re here.
“You’d enjoy the club,” Scarlett assures my girl. “If that did it for you, girl, you’re missing out.”
I nod and we walk into the kitchen, catching their attention.
“I’m hungry,” Mateo says.
“Dinner’s ready,” Lulu replies with a grin as Rome wraps his arms around her from behind.
“We’re going to a show,” Natasha tells me. “Just us girls, tomorrow night.”
“We’ll have guards,” Lulu assures me.
“Your detail is invited, but we aren’t?” Rome asks.
“Well, the detail isn’t technically invited, either, but you won’t let us go without them.”
