The silence stretches a tad longer this time. Sav has never been a fan of Bennett since his wife played poker with that loan shark. He doesn’t want Bennett anywhere near Anya, and even though Bennett offered her his services, Sav doesn’t like to ask him for favors. But he knows this is important to me. He knows what’s at stake.
“Consider it done. But Dante? Don’t get mixed up in Bennett’s business.”
“I just want Leander Teszner to be up to his ears in debt.”
And Bennett, who runs illegal poker games where the elite play for big money, can make that happen. All he has to do is extend a private invitation. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get Leander to bite. That motherfucker has only one love in his life—gambling.
“I owe you, Sav.”
“I’ll collect. When will you be arriving?”
“Monday.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I have a feeling I’m going to need it. Tatiana never did make anything easy for me, not way back when our history started and certainly not now.
“And Dante? Watch your back.”
I hang up and call my broker, who confirms he’s bought the latest shares Teszner has put on the market. The price was lower than I expected. Since Leander took over the reins of his father’s business, the company has taken a nosedive. I’ve been buying up shares in Teszner Agglomerate over the last four years under different onshore and offshore shell companies.
Teszner has no idea I already own thirty percent of the shares. As Tatiana’s legal trustee, he currently manages her fifty percent. Soon, I’ll be the majority shareholder. But I want everything, every single fucking share, and that’s where Bennett comes in.
I instruct my broker to bid as high as necessary if more shares come up for sale. Then I call my lawyer and tell him to get the contracts ready. I want to sign them on Monday.
Penelope checks in with a quick phone call, asking if the suite meets my expectations. I don’t ask how she managed to secure the suite because as long as it’s been done, I don’t give a shit about the how.
She tells me anyway, describing in great length how much effort has gone into convincing the parents and their two kids who were booked into the family suite to move to the guesthouse she’d first proposed to me.
She’s not wasting her breath and my time by relaying the whole sob story just because she likes the sound of her own voice. She wants me to understand just how difficult the task has been, no doubt so she can demand a bigger raise at her next appraisal, but she also wants recognition for the unfair jobs I expect from her, so I take the bait.
“Fine, Penelope. Tell me. How did you convince them to give up the suite?”
She sounds smug. “I offered them enough money to pay for their entire holiday, and then I simply booked a taxi to drive them to the guesthouse.”
“You threw my money at them?”
She snorts. “Don’t make it sound as if it was easy. I can assure you it was very difficult to change their minds.”
My tone is dry. “How difficult exactly?”
She clears her throat. “A hundred grand.” A pause follows. “Give or take a few thousand. The bank is waiting for your sign-off on the transfer.”
Ah, and there it is, the real reason for her call.
“Thanks,” I drawl.
As always, her manner is haughty. “You’re welcome.”
Penelope can be a pain in the neck. The only reason I put up with her is because she doesn’t ask questions, and she gets things done.
Before I disconnect the call, I give her a list of what needs to be delivered to my house in New York City. There won’t be time to do shopping when we arrive.
A text message announces Kent’s arrival. I go to the door and let him in.
He nods in greeting when he steps into the lobby. His blond hair is cropped in a military style brush cut. The frosty look in his eyes matches their ice-blue color. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than ripped jeans and a hoodie under a denim jacket. His worn but polished boots leave a mud trail over the tiles as he walks toward me. His dog is the only thing in the world he loves more than those boots.
I wave at the doormat. “Wipe your feet.”
