Nate - Page 41

“We’ll just keep him out of the way. I’m not too worried. Did you have a chance to chat with Tony before we sent him off to his new Irish digs?”

“He’ll report back regularly.”

“Good.”

“Why the Irish?” I crunched a piece of salty bacon.

“What do you mean?”

“Why ally with them? Seems like if you unseat Dmitri, the Bratva would be open to new management, and that management might want to deal with you. Don’t they have a bigger operation?”

“See?” Nate forked a big piece of scrambled egg. “She’s smart, like I told you.”

“I never doubted it. The only dumb thing she’s done is hang out with you.” He gave me a sly smile.

“Dick,” Nate grumbled into his coffee.

Peter continued, “The reason is that the Irish are already entrenched in the same business areas where we’d like to expand. They’re smaller, but they are ripe for growth right along with us. Bratva aren’t quite as forward-thinking. They still deal in the harder drugs, women, and even information—espionage against the U.S. government. We don’t want to partner with a group like that.”

“Women?” I cringed at the thoughts that brought to the surface. I didn’t know much about my mother, other than that she was a mistress for several of the Bratva captains, but that she’d come from a small town in Chechnya. Her sad eyes haunted my dreams, but I couldn’t remember her face. Not really. Had she been trafficked into serving the Bratva and then killed? My father had always told me she was with the angels.

“Not just running hookers either.” Nate scowled. “They sell girls—many of them younger than you—mostly runaways or victims of the foster system. When I destroy Dmitri, I’m going to crush that side of his business and take the rest.”

Peter and Nate’s shared disgust of human trafficking warmed me. For being such “bad men” as they painted themselves, they certainly set out to do a lot of good.

“I’m glad.” I didn’t need to say more.

“Now, about the delivery.”

“Is there a problem already?” Nate sighed.

“No, I’m just letting you know the score. I’ve arranged it all. The shipment will be at the airport, and I’ve hired another trawler to ride to the dock as our decoy. I’ve kept it close to the vest, hiring only people I know we can trust. It won’t leak.”

“Finally some good news.” Nate held up his coffee cup in a mock toast as Opal refilled the decanter. “Now, what was this about discipline problems in—”

“Morning.” A young, copper-haired man strode into the dining room. I’d glimpsed him briefly in the hallway the day before but hadn’t actually met him. He was fit with sharp blue eyes. Whereas Nate and Peter always wore suits, he wore a light blue Polo and khaki pants.

David followed him into the room and took a seat at the table. He shot Angus some not-so-subtle looks that verged on threatening, but perhaps were intended to be more stern. Like a warning not to fuck with any of the people in this room.

“How’d you sleep?” Nate waved him to a chair next to Peter.

“Great, thank you.” Angus shook Nate’s hand before sitting. “Thanks for having me.” He shot me a sidelong glance.

Nate’s forehead wrinkled, then mischief twinkled in his eyes. “David, I’d like for you to give our new friend here a tour of the grounds this morning.”

David took a sip of his scorching black coffee. “The grounds?”

“Yeah.” Nate sat back, the epitome of relaxed. “Show him the pool, the kitchen, all that. Then take him downstairs.”

David, the tank of a man, stopped mid-chew. “The basement?”

“That’s what I said.” Nate grinned. “Give him an idea of how our operation works, especially when it comes to our enemies. That’s important, Angus. You need to know how your friends will treat the people that wrong you.”

Angus nodded. “Yes, sir.”

David pinned me with a hard look. “We’ll still need to train afterward.”

“Okay.” I’d already dressed in a t-shirt and athletic shorts. Maybe I’d be able to defend myself instead of getting put into a submission hold every time David came near me.

“Great, so that’s all settled.” Nate picked up his fork.

“Can I go too? On the tour?” My voice sounded soft compared to the low, gruff voices of the men in the room.

“You already know where the pool is.” Nate stared daggers at me.

“I know.” I took a careful sip of orange juice. “But I want to see the basement.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” I couldn’t voice my real reason, not in mixed company. I didn’t want him to hide the ugly parts of his world from me. To know all of him, I’d need to see what he kept hidden, no matter how bad it got.

Nate drummed his fingers on the table, then gave an amenable—if fake—smile. “Sure.”

I wished I could explain it to him, but a storm brewed in his eyes as we finished our breakfast.

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