Removing his legs from the desk, he wiped the leftover coke from his nose and flipped the letter in his hands. No return address.
Like a kid tearing into a candy wrapper, he unwrapped it impatiently, shredding the envelope to pieces to get to the treat inside.
His frown turned to a manic smile as his red eyes poured over the note. He couldn’t contain his elation, the grin burned his cheeks. Things were about to get interesting. Things hadn’t been interesting in such a long time.
In for life?
* * *
The best thing about the mansion on Burke Street, in Mercedes’s opinion anyway, was the pool. Before she’d come to live there, she’d only ever swam in the ocean. Pools were something only rich people could afford. And though she was many things, rich wasn’t one of them.
“Fuuuuuuuck!”
Floating on an inflatable bed in the midst of the pristine water, Mercedes lifted her head at the obscenity. She heard Dorian slamming doors and bashing through the house, generally sounding like he was ripping the interior to shreds, before she saw him strut directly out onto the pool deck.
“Hello, darling,” Mercedes smiled as she saw him. “Look how nicely they’ve cleaned up the deck.”
Up to that point, he hadn’t seemed to notice that she was there. Shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder, his face raw and straining, he ignored her comment and clipped his words. “Honey, didn’t realize you’d be home.”
Not one second after he turned his back on her again, Dorian was joined by his three upper-level associates. His Seconds-in-charge. His right-hand men. His very important people.
“Business?” Mercedes asked.
Dorian nodded without looking over his shoulder.
“Want me to leave?”
He hesitated.
“It’s not like I’ll understand what you’re talking about anyway.”
Of course she fucking would.But he didn’t need to know that.
His underestimation of her was one of many shortcomings she enjoyed playing on. Dorian was incredibly stupid for such a smart man. Overly educated, charming, handsome, law and business degrees to boot, and hestillthought women were better for nothing more than fucking, looking pretty, and making good wives. If he only knew.
He agreed without acknowledging her. “Give your updates.”
“Business as usual. Gun shipment off today, no issues,” Antonio answered. Also known as the least favorite, always desperately, pathetically, and embarrassingly trying to prove himself.
Yani shouldered past him. “Small hiccup with the girls. Wanted a bigger cut, so we slapped them around a bit and took the whole payment. Don’t think we’ll be getting noise from them anymore.” He was always brutal and apathetic. He had nothing to prove to anyone. If he cared, he would’ve been the favorite, had Dorian not had an unhealthy obsession with how off the nuts, bat-shit crazy T.B. was.
“The drive went off without a hitch, caught up to the transport and took what we needed,” T.B. said.
“And the code?” Dorian asked.
“Updated,” T.B. said.
“To?”
Oh God, yes.
Delicately swatting her hands in the water, Mercedes attempted to turn on the float, hoping to hear just that little bit better.
“Victory day,” T.B. said.
Not quite what she was after, but it’d do. She smiled to herself and placed her sunglasses over her eyes before dipping into the water to exit the pool.
“I’m going inside,” she said. She wrapped a towel over her bikini-clad body, kissing Dorian’s cheek as his eyes got stuck on her long, tan legs, glistening with pool water. “T.B., Yani, Antonio, always good to see you.”
