Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
On my side of the table were all of the caps secretly loyal to me. On Tyron’s side were all of the ones loyal to my father.
Every seat around the table was occupied, and yet my side was fuller.
It brought a grin that made the other shift nervously, especially when my father took notice.
“Something you want to share with the class, son?”
“They wouldn’t get it.”
“Then let us get on with business. Have you figured out who’s been raiding my dens, or have you been preoccupied with other matters?”
Dodging that obvious trap, I stated needlessly, “I’m your second in command. When am I not preoccupied?”
My father slammed his fist on the table and roared, “Answer the question!”
“Black is still in hiding, but I have people looking for him.”
“Those were not your directives. Michael Black is my concern, not yours.”
“You expect me to find the person hunting him with one hand tied behind my back?”
“I expect you to follow orders and set an example.”
This could have been an email, I thought with a sigh. Drumming my fingers on the arm of my chair, I looked around the table at all the heavy expressions before regarding my father again. “Is there a reason you called us all here today?”
Several people shifted nervously in their seats.
No one else would dare tell the Boss of the Fola to get to the fucking point.
My father sat back in his chair, caressing his beard as he studied me. I could see him weighing the words he wanted to say in his head. Even though he was Boss, he still had appearances to keep. He had to maintain the semblance of control even though it was slipping by the day.
And for now, I had to maintain the pretense of obedience.
“I’ve been informed by our accountant that a significant sum of money has seemingly vanished.” On cue, the door opened, and Angus stepped inside. It seems the amount of revenue reported does not match what we received.” Damn. I wasn’t expecting Roshaun’s treachery to be discovered so soon. I was hoping for a few more weeks. “Luckily, we were able to successfully trace these discrepancies back to one of your ventures. A nightclub called The Diamond Lounge.”
“Yeah, I know about that shit, and I’ve taken care of it.”
“What I want to know is how it escaped your notice for so long?”
“It didn’t. I was aware of what Perry was doing. Almost from the start.”
“So you allowed this peon to steal from us?” Tyrone butted in with a look of horror. His weak-ass chin was starting to piss me off.
“Was there an advantage we’re all unaware of?” my father questioned.
“Yes. But the benefit was mine alone.”
Tyrone and my father shared a long look. “Then I expect every penny to be repaid from your personal accounts,” my father dictated.
“Of course. It’s already being handled.”
“And the man responsible? He’s dead, I assume?”
I paused at that since lying would be a deadly mistake, but so would telling the truth. I didn’t give a fuck if Roshaun lived or died. His sister, unfortunately, did. “Dead-ish,” I supplied with a noncommittal rock of my head.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means I’m not done playing with my food. I’m sending a message. Killing him too quickly won’t get my point across.”
“And is that the only reason?”
I took the time to sip my drink before answering. “What other reason would there be?” Staring at him over the rim of my glass, I silently dared him with my eyes to call me out.
Filled with too much ego to play the long game, my father played right into my hands. “Is his sister not your guest at Glainne right now?”
“I wouldn’t call her a guest,” I retorted honestly and yet duplicitously. After all, Coby was the queen of my castle, not a fucking guest. “As I said…” I set my glass on the table with an audible thunk. “I’m sending a message. Coby Perry is mine until I’m done collecting interest.”
It was all I could do not to outwardly revolt when something like pride and approval filled my father’s eyes. “Very well. Do with the girl what you will, but do it quickly. I want this shit handled before anyone else gets any grand ideas.”
“And now for the other matter, “ Tyrone said. “We’ve set a new date for your marriage to Niamh. Given your recent and troubling objections, we’ve decided to move up the wedding to prevent any further disruptions. The ceremony will take place exactly two months from now.”
Knowing my father was incredibly literal, it was easy to calculate the date he had in mind.
Silently, I swore, but it made no difference. A second later, I threw my glass at the wall in front of me. Unfortunately, Tyrone’s reflexes were better than I gave him credit for, which pissed me off even more, especially when I knew this was his doing.