Page 22 of Sunrise Malice

It should annoy me that Ronan thinks I might end up hurting my own wife, but I understand that he’s protective of his family. “She’ll be safe with me. Comfortable, even. We discussed things, and I believe we came to a reasonable arrangement.”

“Then you have my blessing.” Ronan’s smile turns wry. “Not that you give a shit.”

“Cheers to marriage.” I hold up my cup and put it back down. “One other thing before we adjourn. There’s a shipment coming in a few days.”

“New product came in last night. We’re on schedule.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your cut.”

“That’s not my issue. I’d like you to divert the trucks somewhere else. It’s a different safe location.”

Ronan goes still. I know he doesn’t like this—I wouldn’t like it either. We’re dealing in large quantities of very illegal substances, and everyone involved is extremely paranoid. A last-minute change like this, especially a large one, will set off all kinds of alarms in his mind.

“Why?” he asks, cutting straight to the heart.

“Internal issues. I’d like this change kept between us if you wouldn’t mind.”

His eyebrows raise. “This have anything to do with your grandfather visiting town?”

My jaw flexes. “How’d you know about that? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Can you do the new location or not?”

Ronan considers for a few seconds before nodding. “I’ll make it happen. Send me the address over encrypted chat.”

“Very good.” I relax slightly. We finish the meeting with a bit of small talk before Ronan leaves the coffee shop. He meets with a couple bodyguards outside and I watch as he heads down the block.

Jean walks over and takes his seat. He finishes Ronan’s coffee and makes a face. “That fucking Irishman ruins a perfectly good espresso with goddamn sugar. Absolutely revolting.”

“You can’t expect everyone to have your impeccable taste.”

“Very true.” Jean studies me for a beat. “What are you doing, Julien?”

“Finishing my coffee and thinking about my future wife.” Which is true: I’m picturing our wedding night. I’m imagining which of her little boxes I want to tick off, and how exactly I’ll make her come, over and over, screaming with bliss and shivering under my fingertips.

“You think I wasn’t listening, asshole?” Jean leans closer, lowering his voice. “The shipment. You’re diverting it.”

I meet his gaze and hold it. “The less Grandpère has control over, the better.”

“If he finds out, he’s going to be pissed.”

“Let him be angry.”

Jean’s knee jostles under the table and the cups rattle on their saucers. “It’s not just him getting mad. He’s not here forever, but if you give him reason to stick around, if you fucking provoke him?—”

“Grandpère will leave when he realizes that everything here is under control. He’ll get bored and wander off like he always does. Right now, he’s flexing his muscles. You’re very right, this won’t be forever.”

“You’re making trouble for yourself. First the girl, and now this.” Jean’s ugly frown turns into a smile. “What was so wrong with the Collette girl, anyway?”

“She’s a self-absorbed asshole and you know it.”

“Hot though. At least from what I remember.”

I grunt at that. He’s not wrong, Collette is a beautiful woman, but my mind is firmly on Brianne.

We leave together and I make a phone call as we head over to the car. Jean gets behind the wheel and I stand outside, my light jacket pulled up to block the wind. Brianne answers on the third ring, her voice quiet.

“Why are you calling me?” she asks.

“Good to hear from you too, mon minou.”

“Seriously, you never call. Should I be worried?”

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