Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
This isn’t what I was made for.
My brothers have always kept me and my sisters out of high-level family discussions. Sure, I can go to a charity gala and follow all the proper rules of propriety and whatever, but I’ve never been in a negotiation like this. It’s terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating.
“We have both ledgers.” Brenden dives right into it. “Just so you know, it isn’t only one half. We have them both.”
Arsen grunts and takes another drink. He lowers the gun, placing it down on top of his desk, but still within easy reach. “How’d you manage that?”
“The Davises are getting soft in their old age.”
“I knew they’d be a problem eventually. Their rates are good and they don’t ask questions, but you’re right. They’re sloppy. I’ll have to find a new supplier sooner than anticipated.” Arsen takes two more glasses from his bottom drawer and pours. He pushes them over.
Brenden passes one to me and takes a sip of the other. He gives me a look and I follow suit like this is no big deal. The bourbon is rich and smoky and surprisingly good, even though it’s not usually my thing. But this must be how the boys get through their talks without killing each other: plenty of good hard liquor.
“You know where you screwed up?” I flinch at Brenden’s tone and put a hand on his arm, but he keeps going. “It was the Sam documents you wanted. Honestly, any other job, and I’d be gone by now. But you had to go after him.”
“Why else place you in their family? Sam Sarkissian’s been an ongoing problem for some time now. I figured we could handle him together.”
“My brother doesn’t need handling,” I say sharper than intended but it pisses me off the way Arsen talks about him.
“You know, Tallie, I always liked you, mostly because you never talked very much growing up.”
I grit my teeth, the bastard. He says it like it’s not meant to be an insult, but that’s how Arsen is. He kicks and stabs with no expression and you’re expected to either keep up or get killed.
“I’m proposing a simple exchange. I’ll return the stolen documents. Your ledger and the Davis half. And once that’s done, you’ll forgive Sam, and we’ll all move on from this mess.”
Arsen rolls his glass in a circle. “Sounds simple enough.”
“He’s not a real problem,” I say quickly, ignoring the look Brenden gives me. “Sam’s ambitious, but he wants to be a part of the family, that’s all. You can’t hold it against him.”
“I can and I do. Your brother has been messing with important people. I’ve gotten more than a few complaints, and it’s well within my rights as the Patron of the Brotherhood to handle my business as I see fit.”
His rebuke is sharp and I wilt away from him. All my life he’s been Arsen, my scary cousin, but now he’s something else. I realize clearly I’ve never spoken with the Patron of the Brotherhood before even though I’ve talked to Arsen many times over the years. This man is different from the boy I knew growing up and I can’t let myself forget it.
Brenden draws attention back onto him.
“A simple exchange,” Brenden repeats, clearly trying to refocus the conversation. I’m angry, but I do my best to swallow it. The fear helps with that a lot.
Arsen pours more bourbon into his glass. “It isn’t that simple. What happens if I decide someday that Sam needs to be punished for some other crime? Are you going to come back here, sneak through my walls, and remind me about those ledgers? Can I really trust that you’ve destroyed all your copies? Does this mean Sam can’t be touched? Does this mean your entire family is now off limits, no matter what they do?” He shakes his head regretfully. “It isn’t as simple as you want it to be. Frankly, you should both be dead already.”
“If you kill us, the documents will come out. They’ll go straight to the DA.”
“I don’t doubt it, and yet you should still be dead.”
My toes curl and I feel cold all over from the looks Arsen’s giving us. “Please, we want to make a deal. We’re here in good faith.”
“Says the woman who helps steal from me. Do you not understand? You stole from me. You robbed me, broke into my house, into my private bedroom, and you took something that’s mine. Do you know how many people have survived such a transgression?”
“None,” Brenden says firmly. “But there’s about to be two. Because you’re right, the ledgers themselves aren’t enough. You need a better reason to keep us alive. You need a target and a scapegoat.”
Arsen’s lips turn down. “How is that going to work?”
“The Davises have done very well for themselves over the years, haven’t they?” Brenden reaches into one of the pockets on his pants. Arsen clicks his tongue, but Brenden ignores it, producing a single folded piece of paper. “Surprisingly well, considering their market should be somewhat small. Nation states, rebel groups, that sort of thing. That’s where you come in though, isn’t it? You’re the middle man between the Davises and all the people they can’t be seen doing business with. You’re their bridge to the underworld.”