Innocent Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 1) by Charlotte E Hart & Rachel De Lune

Author:Charlotte E Hart & Rachel De Lune [Hart, Charlotte E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

My father’s office smelt as old as he does when I worked in it this morning. It smelt of decay and rot, just like he does. No matter how many times the servants clean it or layer it with fragrance, it always harks back to what he did to our family. Too much booze and the opinion that he was above the rest of the mobs. He played the wrong damned hand that day. He sat in a game of cards with Joe Mortoni, putting his trust in lowlife scum to do his job, and drank his way to celebrations rather than staying on top of the deal going down. The sequence of events unfolded before he had time to do anything about it, Joe not giving a damn. He got a prize either way.

A damn game of cards.

The thought causes a snort of indignance as I stare the fucker in front of me down, waiting for his explanation of why my own shipment through Columbia has been delayed. One thing this Cane doesn’t do is avoid the ground beneath my feet, or forget where the money’s made.

Spanish pours out of his mouth, his body erupting with hand gestures and tired excuses. I roll my dice, watching him look at his sidekick, too annoyed to give a damn whether he’s related to families I should care a fuck for or not. This happened once before, early on when we started dealing with him. Traceability leads back to half my coke being off-loaded in Bolivia, so this dick can syphon off a few hundred grand. Two weeks later, and it’s all back to me ready for distribution. The fact that the dick’s made his money by deceiving me, not mentioned. I let it slide the last time, not bothered by the money as long as I got my own, but now it’s over a month late and it’s having an impact on Columbia’s distribution rate, which in turn makes me look like a fucking fool who can’t manage his business.

That shit’s not happening.

The sidekick looks fidgety as he stands there and hovers his hand around his jacket pocket, ready to draw a fucking weapon should the need arise. That pisses me off more than the continued lies falling from Rohas Denago’s mouth.

“You understand?” Rohas says, taking a step towards my desk. “It’s on its way.”

I roll my dice again, waiting for some fucking truth and sneering at his deceit. I’d probably calm this fucking storm rising inside if he’d been honest, find a way to end this business dealing sensibly, but coming here and lying to me, the whole damn time having a threatening gun under a coat to save his lying ass, is not the best way to approach this situation. “Quinn?”

Still I say nothing as the dice grind in my palm, telling him everything he should already know. I’m pissed, aggravated by the issue, and don’t want this dick screwing up my business any longer. I should have killed him the last time, had him fucking drowned on the way over, but professionalism took over.

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