Six

Devlin

 

I’m thoroughly amused by Charli’s texts. When I’d added my number to her contacts, I hadn’t expected her to use it unless of an emergency. I should have known better, and strangely enough, I’m not aggravated by her reaching out to me. Instead, she’d nearly brought a smile to my face when she’d sent the middle finger emoji. She’s young but so damn full of spirit.

The amusement fades as I think upon our confrontation earlier this morning. I’d known she was quite attractive beneath the dirt and grime she’d collected from the streets, but seeing her up close and fresh-faced had nearly taken my breath away. Her hair, once dull, had been a beautiful golden blonde and looked silky to the touch. The freckles scattering across the high slopes of her cheekbones had become more prominent, and her eyes… Those turbulent viridian eyes had burned with an inner fire that had stirred something deep within me. As much as I resent her for evoking these new emotions, I can’t deny that I am very much intrigued by her.

“What are you doing?”

I look up and see Veronica standing in the doorway. When Charli’s text had come through, I’d been lying in bed with Veronica, who’d fallen asleep almost immediately after sex. I hadn’t wanted to wake her, so I’d taken the phone and entered the main room of the suite.

My eyes roam over her, and for the first time, I look at her with a critical eye. Her long, luxurious dark hair is almost too thick from all the extensions she prefers. Unnaturally long eyelashes frame her blue eyes, and her collagen-inflated lips look too big for her face. My eyes drop to the silky robe she’d slipped on over her nude body, and I study the outline of her breasts—breasts that I have no doubt were bought and paid for with someone else’s money.

Veronica mistakes my perusal for interest, and she slinks over to me, dropping the silk robe to the floor so that she can show off the body that she believes is perfection. Little does she know, I’m beginning to see all her flaws. The fake breasts, the nice body that she’s never put effort into keeping up, everything about her is about as genuine as her personality. The cloyingly strong perfume she wears tickles my nose as she runs her hands over my bare chest, her eyes turning heavy-lidded. “Come back to bed,” she murmurs, pressing herself against my naked body.

“This isn’t working, Veronica,” I tell her, stepping away from her touch.

She blinks up at me, bewilderment forming in her blue eyes. “What do you mean?”

My eyes scan the suite that I’m paying for. I don’t like having to search someone out to ease my body’s needs, nor do I enjoy having random women in my personal space at the penthouse. When I’d offered the suite to Veronica in return for her being available whenever I wanted, she’d readily agreed. The woman has no qualms spending my money, and for the first time, the knowledge disgusts me.

“Devlin?” she asks, moving closer to me.

I shake my head, giving her a curt look. “No more. I will find you a new place and pay the first year’s lease. After that, it will be up to you to make the payments.”

Her mouth falls open with astonishment. “You’re ending things?”

I don’t like repeating myself, and I regard her with cool eyes.

“But we just… You and I…”

“It was nice, but now it’s done.” With that said, I turn and stride back to the suite’s bedroom. As I pick up my discarded clothing and dress, Veronica stands in the doorway, watching me with a hurt expression. I tuck the phone inside my suit jacket and move towards the doorway.

She backs out of the way as her eyes take on an interrogative gleam. “Who was on the phone?”

I pause and turn back to her, my expression unsympathetic. She knew what she was getting into when we’d made this deal. “You’re not being paid to ask questions, Veronica.”

She flinches, and I watch as she visibly swallows.

We’re finished here, and I turn and stride back into the main room, heading for the suite door. After I step into the hall, closing the door firmly behind me, I adjust my clothing and walk to the elevator. There goes my ideal sex life, but when I’d looked at her moments ago, I’d known I wouldn’t be seeing her again.

The elevator doors slide open, and I step inside and press the button for one floor below the penthouse. I’m using the public elevator, so it won’t go up to my private residence. I’ll need to use a keycard to reach the exclusive stairwell leading to my living quarters. It’s a nuisance, but it’s been preferable than leaving the building to meet somewhere else.

Two minutes later, I enter the penthouse. The motion sensor lights flicker on, and I make my way to my private bath and begin undressing. After a quick shower, I slip on a pair of silk lounge pants and pour myself a glass of scotch from the bar located in the main room of the penthouse.

I’m standing in front of the glass windows that overlook Manhattan when Carter appears in their reflection. Carter has full access to the penthouse. He doubles as my personal enforcer/head of security, and my right-hand man. I don’t consider him a friend, but he’s about as close to one as anyone will ever get.

He waits until I turn to face him before informing me that a new gang leader is five grand short of what should have been my profit.

“Take care of it,” I say, taking a drink of the scotch. What the fuck is so complicated about selling the product they’re given and returning the organization’s rightful share? I’m tired of these newcomers taking over and power-tripping with giant egos. Then, they stupidly decide to test their luck and try to fuck me over. If no one has gotten away with it in the past, what makes them think they’re any different?

Carter nods. “Elias is on line one in your study.”

I nod, dismissing him. After he leaves, I head for my study and settle in behind the desk. I pick up the phone and press the flashing line. “Kade,” I say curtly. Night’s like this test my patience. It’s late, and I’m ready to stop problem solving so I can relax before getting some damned sleep.

“Evening, Devlin,” Elias greets in his usual jovial tone that grates on my nerves.

“I’m assuming there’s a reason for this late-night call?”

“Have you thought any further about the Serrato Cartel’s offer?” he inquires.

Aggravation builds as my patience hangs by a mere thread. “I already gave them my answer, you included.” I won’t deny that the cartel is powerful. They’re asking to partner with my organization to takeover more territory. With their manpower and my own combined, we could easily run out all the competition and broaden the territory. However, they’re asking for a fifty-fifty partnership, and that is absurd. Why share fifty percent of the profits when I already have one-hundred percent? The Serrato organization thinks they can pressure me into this deal because I’m considered new, even though I’ve been the head of the organization for six years.

“You know they won’t take no for an answer,” Elias warns.

I’m aware, but I doubt they’ll wage a war over this. I’ve molded the organization into what it is today, and it’s a force to be reckoned with. “I didn’t care last week, and I don’t care now. Turn it down, Elias.”

His sigh comes across the phone line. “I think we’re going to be borrowing trouble.”

“Many have tried to run me out and have failed. The Serrato’s are offering the deal because they’re not confident they can take me and the organization out. They can’t do jack shit at this point.” I’m the one with the upper hand, and I refuse to lower it a centimeter.

“I still think—”

“Don’t think, Elias. We’re done.” I end the call and sit back in the chair, picking up the scotch.