Page 85 of Kneeling to Candy

“Talk? About what?”

“About doing business together.”

Say what? I halt my pacing. “Piero wants to work with us?”

“That’s what he says.”

This makes no sense. “Piero only deals in legitimate business.”

“Maybe legitimate isn’t cutting it anymore,” Duffy suggests. “He gained access to all his cousin’s business dealing after he passed. He’s probably seen the accounts. It’s hard to turn down the paycheck once you see how much there is to be made.”

“Hmm,” I muse, rubbing my finger above my upper lip.

Duffy isn’t wrong. Prior to meeting Lorenzo, our little Irish gang was smuggling guns. The pay was good, but the cost of getting caught was harsh.

Not true with sex trafficking.

In this country, guns are valued higher than pussy—thus, the punishment fits the crime. The legal system puts more effort and money into chasing weapons than they do a human life, especially one belonging to the female sex.

Higher pay with less risk of being arrested—it’s a no-brainer for a criminal.

Reclaiming my seat, I loosen my tie as I think aloud. “Having Piero on our side would allow us to collect women in Denver without risking his wrath, pulling more for inventory.”

“It would come at a cost,” Duffy says, his voice hesitant.

“Nothing is free. What’s his percentage?”

“He asked for eighty percent of Denver.”

“Out of the question.” I scoff. We’re in this business to make money, not lose it. The cost of holding the merchandise, hiring security, and organizing these auctions wouldn’t be covered with the remaining twenty percent.

“That’s why I countered,” Duffy says proudly. “We settled on seventy percent.”

I face-palm my forehead. “Seventy percent?! Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Is seventy percent bad?” Duffy asks nervously.

“Yes, it’s bad, you eejit! Anything above thirty percent is bad business when we’re the ones doing the work.”

“Oh,” he replies, sounding deflated.

As he should. The man fucked us over. Not only are we stuck doing business with another Bianchi—one who has a reputation for cleaning house—we aren’t gaining much profit from the deal.

Sonofabitch.

My fingers itch to take my gun from my shoulder holster and unload a clip into the wall. Duffy is lucky he’s nowhere near me, or he’d be a human target for me to annihilate.

But alas, I need Duffy’s services until this auction is done. I’m in no position to find another loyal partner when there’s merchandise in my possession.

Sighing deeply, I order, “Moving forward, I’ll handle all negotiations. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Cú Sidhe.”

Time to find out how big of a blunder Duffy got me into.

“Did you mention me?”

“NO!” Duffy nearly shouts into the phone, panicked. He clears his voice, attempting to sound calmer. “No, Boss. I know better than to reveal your involvement.”

---