Page 93 of Contempt

Christian laughed, and the sound made Lucia’s gaze shoot to him. So cold, and unaffected, she thought. How quickly his masks could flip—she’d not noticed that before. One second, the man seemed happy and charming, and in the next, his eyes were icy and dead.

“See, you’re mistaken there, Johnathan,” Christian said, tipping a hand over to show his empty palm. “There was money on the table; we’d discussed business, and dollars. I don’t leave money sitting on the table like that. Once you begin a business transaction with me, I intend for you to see it through.”

John’s jaw hardened. “No, you’re mistaken. See, once you thought to seek my family out—my sister—as collateral for this business deal between us, it was over. I decided that, and let you know. There was nothing else to say after that. You go your way, and I go mine. That’s what we’re here for today. This ends it.”

Christian smiled coldly. “She was back up, John. That’s all. If things didn’t go the way I wanted with the business deal through you, then I was going to use her to put you back in line. You can’t blame me for that, can you?”

Lucia blinked.

“What?” she asked.

He glanced her way, still cold and unaffected. “Standard business practice, sweetheart. Don’t be offended—you’re pretty, sure, but not my kind of thing, if you get what I mean.”

Jesus Christ.

She didn’t even know what to say to that.

Christian didn’t seem like he cared as he went right back to his conversation with John like he hadn’t left it in the first place. “So, this is how we’re going to go forward with this, John … During my time in New York, while you were busy trying to ignore me thinking that I would get the hint and go away, I was working. And do you know what I do best for work, John?”

Her brother swallowed hard. “No, what is that?”

“I’m a finder.” Christian grinned. “I find things. Things you care about—things you love. I find weaknesses, and then I find the ways to exploit them. I’ve had several weeks, and if we’re honest, several months leading up to this meeting to find lots of things about you and yours, John, and I know exactly how to work them. Your wife—kids. Your father, and mother … sisters, not including Lucia, here. I know details about their lives that you don’t know. How about your son … Lucky, is it?”

John stiffened in his chair, but he didn’t look away from Christian. “My oldest, yes.”

“Cute boy. Looks like his dad, huh?” Christian arched a brow, adding, “I heard he’s severely allergic to … what is it, shellfish? Shame, that.”

Lucia’s heart hurt.

Hurt for her brother, and her nephew.

Her brother said nothing, but she could see that muscle working in his cheek. Someone was threatening his son, and the rest of his family, but John was doing his best to keep himself in line. That in itself was a fucking feat. Lucia knew it.

“Imagine,” Christian said, “if someone were to … approach the fence that surrounds your son’s daycare, John. They could get close to the chain link, and call to him. Does he go by his name, or Lucky? Anyway,” the man said, flipping a hand as if to wave the question off, “imagine someone calling for him, and when he gets close enough, well, they’ll grab him and put a bit of that shellfish in his little hands. He only needs to touch it, right? That’s how allergic he is to it—I found that out. He’d be all the way at the other side of the playground, just far enough away that his teachers probably wouldn’t notice he was struggling for what, a minute or two.”

Christian flashed a smile. “Long enough, John.”

Without emotion to his tone, although Lucia didn’t know how her brother managed it, he asked, “What the fuck do you want?”

“Don’t you want to hear how I’ll go through the other people in your life? The plans I have for your wife. Or your sister—Lucia, I mean? She might not be my type, but damn, she’s got a mighty fucking pretty mouth.”

Bile rose in Lucia’s throat.

She barely held it back.

“The money on the table,” Christian said, “that’s what I want, John. I start a business deal, and I finish it. That’s how this works for me. There is no backing out. You don’t get to jump into your feelings because you don’t approve of how I do this business, you fucking got me?”

John tipped his chin back. “Yeah, I got you.”

Christian nodded, and stood from his chair. “Good—remember that. Renegotiations for our deal will begin in three days. If you’re not there with the money on the table to settle this out, I’ll come for yours. I’ll start with your sister, but your son will be a close second. And don’t for one fucking second think that you can hide them from me.”

“I’ll kill you,” John murmured.

The other man at the table laughed.

Lucia didn’t think it was funny at all.

Marcellos didn’t say those words easily. They didn’t throw threats just because. When a Marcello man promised to take a person’s life, it meant exactly what they said. They would do it, too. It might not be today, or tomorrow … but someday.