Page 23 of Fierce Monarch

“How much to make this go away?” Renaldi asked, facing me expectantly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

Renaldi tilted his head, smirking a little as he regarded me. “I think you’ve been gone too long, little brother. Too comfortable in the Marcosa mansion—and that Marcosa pussy—that you’ve forgotten where your loyalties lie. Maybe she was sweeter than anything your brother could give you.”

It was so close to the truth that I was almost impressed. Not that I showed it. I was a fucking professional.

Renaldi’s eyes narrowed, though he was still pretending to be relaxed. “Why are you really here, Nate? Because our shipment was missing a couple thousand bucks?”

His scoff was echoed with laughter around the room, and I joined in.

“A hundred thousand on the low side,” I corrected.

Renaldi’s eyes narrowed, and we held eye contact.

Staring contests were juvenile as fuck, but men like Renaldi stroked their dicks to images of themselves on top of the world. They were also weak fuckers with even weaker backbones because they didn’t have the training to take shit for themselves. They stole because they couldn’t build, and that showed in everything they did.

Renaldi ground his teeth loud enough to hear when he finally looked away, eyes shadowed with his bruised ego. “I wasn’t aware of anything being taken.”

“Why don’t we cut the bullshit since we all know I’ve got more important things to do than deal with you two. You want this to go away? Either replace the product, or pay back what you owe. Retail price, of course.”

“And if we don’t?”

He tipped his head, and those four guards straightened up like they’d been called to attention. I slipped my hand to one of my own guns, hoping Renaldi wasn’t suicidal. If he killed me, Cash would burn his life down and make him watch.

“Do it, or I’ll come back and put a bullet in your head.” It was that simple.

Cooper spoke up, shaky voice and all. “What if we’re not here when you come back?”

It was my turn to smirk as I waved a lazy hand at the Aces I’d brought. “That’s what Tweedledee and Tweedledum are here for. Word of advice, don’t try to cut them down and run. It won’t work. Big Brother is watching.”

I gave a pointed glance at the ceiling where the cameras—which they’d adjusted little by little over the time I was gone—had been refastened at the correct angles and caged so they couldn’t be fucked with again. How Cash had gotten in without their notice, I had no fucking clue, but it was one more mark against Renaldi being an amateur.

Renaldi waved off the guards, and they stood down. I grinned at him, though I didn’t care one way or another. “You have twenty-four hours. If you don’t have the money my brother’s owed when time runs out, you’re dead, and we’ll find someone else to run this shithole.”

Both men swallowed heavily, and I motioned Cash’s men to follow me out. We paused just out of hearing range as I gave them their orders. “No one takes a piss by themselves until Cash gives the okay. Check in every thirty minutes and again when your relief team shows up. Any fuckups, and it’ll be your heads, not mine.”

The Aces, both newer but still seasoned, nodded, and I headed for the door, ready to wash the gasoline scent from the coke off my body, even if it meant burning my clothes. I hadn’t made it more than two steps when I heard the idiots whispering to each other.

“Do you think he knows about the Marcosas?” one asked. Pretty sure it was Ryan. He was only chatty when he was nervous.

“I’m sure he does, considering he just spent months in their house,” Parker replied.

“I thought my family was fucked up, but I kind of pity her.”

Parker snorted. “She’s richer than sin and hot as fuck. She could have everything and anything she wants, but she’s fighting for power she’ll never keep. She’s been spoiled her whole life, and now the uncles are going to put her in her place. Serves her right.”

I didn’t hear Ryan’s reply. Rage rose swiftly through me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was pulling my car away from the warehouse. A quick turn had me driving toward Mari’s house before I realized I had no clue where she was anymore.

Which meant I had to call in a favor.

Chapter Seven

Nate

“You have a lot of nerve,” Rafael Osorio said when he finally picked up the phone. It only took him four fucking calls. “Do you know the shitstorm you’ve put me in?”

Nope. Didn’t care either. “Do tell.”

---