Jer never wanted my chair. He never had the craving for power. He got his revenge for Ty in New York and did his time. When he got out of prison, he kept a low profile, working for me at the bar and was the muscle when needed.
I let him have his secrets, for a while, his racing gig, watching from the shadows as he built his own kingdom in the underground of St. Louis. “He doesn’t have a choice.”
Our stare was interrupted by the ringing of my cell. I put it on speaker.
“Sullie.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones.”
Every bone in my body chilled at the sound of that voice.
Dom came around the desk to stand beside me, a low growl rumbling from his throat. I held up my hand, a silent gesture for him to remain calm. Sitting back in my chair, I stroked my beard and pulled up the security camera feed on my computer.
“Mr. Romano. Seems a little early for you to be calling. Thought blood suckers only did business at night,” I drawled as Dom loaded his gun.
A chuckle sounded on the other end, followed by a cough. I smiled. He still hadn’t recovered from Gwen’s dagger—Black Death. I took pride in knowing that one of my weapons hurt the bastard.
“Always the joker, Sullivan Jones.”
My smile faded at the sound of my full name on his lips. “Cut the shit, Romano. I am a very busy man. What—”
“Too busy for your niece?”
My blood ran cold and Dom stiffened beside me. Another chuckle. “Glad to see your kind knows when to keep their mouth shut,” the racist ass sneered.
He hummed, pleased with our silence. Dom was texting the Crew, and I was shooting a text to Jer.
Me: Come to the bar. It’s about Kay.
Jer: Already here.
“She is rather beautiful. Now I understand my son's…fascination,” he said calmly.
The door to my office burst open, and my nephew entered. He was dressed in dark jeans and a white t-shirt, his knuckles cracked open, dried blood covering the edges. I pointed to the phone on the desk and signaled him to be quiet.
I decided to play dumb. “Son? Tony?”
He chuckled again. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?”
“Seems to be that way, Mr. Romano. Now, I am going to keep things simple for both of us. Hurt my niece, and you will die. You hurt Kay, and I will destroy the kingdom you've spent your life building,” I growled.
A shadow drifted down over my nephew’s features; his jaw tightened. His control was slipping right before my eyes.
“I want Gwen Davenport,” he said simply after a few minutes.
Dom met my eyes and then Jer’s. “You want to trade? A woman for a woman?”
“Look at you, catching on. Good job, Sullivan,” he said slowly, sounding almost bored.
I can’t wait to break his jaw.
Sighing, I replied, “Name a drop point.”
“You’ll bring Davenport?” He sounded almost surprised.
“Just name the time and place, old man. Davenport will be yours, but you will bring my niece to me in one piece, or no deal.”
He laughed. “Of course, old friend.”
