Page 38 of Bad Business

“Sure… yeah.” I brush him off, knowing if I have to, I’ll be right there in the hell with them. “I gotta go, Griff.”

I disconnect the call as we pull to a stop somewhere on a dirt road. The trees are thick, and I imagine the meeting point is somewhere close by.

“This where we’re stopping?” I lean forward to the two men in the front seat.

“Yep.” The one behind the steering wheel, Maximum, mutters as his counterpart, Louie, climbs from the passenger side. “We’ll wait here until the others call us.”

“I thought we were all parking in the same spot.” I blink, confused by the sudden change.

He shrugs, as if it’s not unusual for something like this to happen. “Dunno. Just doing what I was told.” I watch as the other man round the front of the car and stops at his door. “What the hell are you doing?”

In what takes less than a second, Louie raises his gun and fires a single shot into Maximum’s head. Frozen to the spot, unable to believe what’s happening, I’m completely unprepared when Louis yanks me out of the backseat.

“What are you doing?” I stumble beside him, his gun trained on my head. “Why’d you do that?” The reality hits me like a ton of bricks. “You’re working for them, aren’t you?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” he scoffs. “They offered a lot of money, and I hate working for that bitch.”

Words fail me as he drags me through the woods a short distance and into a vacant warehouse.

“Wait here.” He waves the gun toward the empty space. “The boss will be here soon.”

This is unreal. How did my life get so fucked up?

“What about Willow? Where is she?”

“She’s being taken care of… that cunt Bianchi, too.” He spits on the ground.

I want to charge him, but the gun pointed in my direction reminds me he has the upperhand.

“You said they paid you; I can double it. Whatever they offered you, I can beat it. Just let me walk out of here and get my girls back.”

“That won’t be happening, Mr. Nash.” I stop pacing and turn to face the man who steps through the door.

"Who are you?" I demand, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at my insides.

The man smiles, a cold, calculated expression. " Mr. Agapov and I have some business to discuss that will likely determine the life of the woman who is currently being reunited with her niece."

Dallas narrowed his eyes. "Business? What kind of business? I assume if you’ve seen Willow, you have the reason we came out here."

“That was true until I learned who you were. Dallas Nash… or should I call you Dallas Winston, the illegitimate son of Calvin Winston?”

“Fuck you. That man might have sired me, but he was no father.”

The fucker clicks his tongue, his Russian accent heavy when he speaks again. “Regardless, you can help me. Much like he did.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I shrug, not giving a shit what he wants. “I don’t do business with criminals.”

“The woman tied to a chair in the other building says differently. Or do you not know what kind of people the Bianchis are?” I narrow my eyes at him. “I see I’ve struck a nerve. No matter. You see, Mr. Nash, I have a proposition for you. Your club, Vibe, is quite the establishment. High profile, respected, and most importantly, a perfect cover for my operations.” He sighs, “I need something that will hide what I do—women, drugs, weapons. I want to run them through your business.”

"You're out of your mind if you think I'd ever agree to that." The very idea of turning my club into a hub for his vile trade makes my stomach churn.

Agapov's smile fades, replaced by a hard, dangerous edge. "Think carefully, Mr. Nash. Refuse, and the consequences will be dire."

"I don't care about your threats," I snap, my anger boiling over. "The answer is no. I'll never be a part of your sick game."

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