Page 1 of With This Ring

CHAPTER 1

CARTER

Even though my dad told me we had a meeting, he makes me wait in his outer office like some sort of asshole. I’m sure it’s because I don’t have on a suit. He has cameras placed in the corners of the room, so he knows I came to work ‘out of uniform.’

I flick my wrist up, checking the time on my Patek Philippe. Two fifty. He told me to come see him at two thirty. I scowl at his office door, trying to incinerate it with my gaze. He’s probably not doing anything in his office, probably fucking off knowing I’m waiting on him.

Getting to my feet, I walk behind his receptionist’s desk and stare into the small device that I know is a mini camera. “Anytime you’re ready, Dad. Some of us need to get to work.”

Gavin, my best friend and bodyguard, chuckles lightly. “Dominic will give you shit for that.”

“Let him,” I say under my breath, walking back over to the seat I just vacated.

My dad’s office door opens, and he steps out, buttoning his jacket. “Carter. You’re late.”

I barely keep a growl to myself. “I’ve been here for half an hour. I know you knew that, since Brenda called you when Iarrived.” I incline my head to Brenda, whose dark brown cheeks redden under scrutiny from my father. She ducks her head, her small braids tumbling forward to hide her face.

Dad simply grunts and motions into his office. I give Gavin a look that makes him swallow a chuckle and step into Dad’s office. We take a seat in chairs in front of his desk.

A look of irritation crosses Dad’s face when he takes in my attire. He tells me to dress to impress in suits, slacks and loafers that pinch my toes. That ain’t me. But I think I look good in my dove gray v-neck shirt, black chinos and heavy combat boots. It ensures no one fucks with me. That coupled with the tattoos covering every part of my body visible except my face and people steer clear.

“Would it kill ya to wear a suit? Just once?” he asks.

I shrug. “It might.”

He scowls at me. “Don’t be a smart ass, Carter. Or I’ll stick your brother with this gig when I retire.”

He’s been threatening to make my little brother head of the family if I don’t shape up. I’ve been telling him to do it for years, but he won’t bite. It isn’t like Declan wants the job. He’s content to shoot people when Dad orders it. But I’m just talking shit. I rebel against my father when it comes to how I dress, but I hang on his every word when it comes to running all the casinos, as well as running the Whitlock family. That includes our guns and drug trafficking.

Deciding to lay off so I can leave here sooner, I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you need, Dad? I got the Colombians in an hour for their shipment of heroin. They’re willing to pay double for the rush I had to put on it.”

Instead of the dollar signs I expect to see dancing behind my father’s eyes, they turn serious. “I’m hearing whispers in the streets, Car. Whispers of impending trouble. Someone wants what we got and will cause bloodshed to get it.”

I sit up straight, all signs of fucking with my dad gone. “Who? The St. Clair Family?”

I hate that fucking family. Growing up, Kai St. Clair has been the bane of my existence. The cocky little shit liked to rub it in when his father got a contract for a building project over mine or when one of their casinos got more recognition and had a better bottom line. I’ve tried to beat his face in more times than I can count, only stopping to avoid a war. If I killed him, the St. Clair family would come down on us hard. There would be no telling who would survive the crossfire.

But if there are threats being lobbed, I can take Kai out myself. And it would be my fucking pleasure.

Dad bursts my bubble though. “Nah. They’re…not involved.” I note the pause, but he continues talking before I can ask about it. “They’re getting threats as well. Someone is on the warpath, after both of our families. I’m not sure who it is. Maybe the Dominicans. Maybe the Colombians.”

“Not the Colombians,” I say, thinking out loud. “We do business with them often and their family has expanded because of it. I just talked to Dante a few weeks ago and everything was all good. We’re using their cargo liners to bring in our heroin. If they wanted war, they would have dumped or stolen our product. That would have cut us off from our supply and pissed off our customers, so they’d go elsewhere.”

“I agree,” Dad says after a few beats. “That leaves the Dominicans, the Russians, and the New York outfit. I need to know who it is, and I need them fucking dead. Wipe the whole fucking family out.”

“It could be the St. Clair’s,” I say, even though he shut that down. “They want what we have. They could be making threats and see what we do about it. It makes us look weak if we do nothing and if we look weak, other families will try us. Theycould be lying about getting threats to get you to drop your guard.”

Dad gives me a scathing look. “Did you hear me when I said they’re not involved?” I open my mouth, ready to give a good argument, but he slashes his hand through the air. My mouth clamps shut, and I sit back and huff. “They. Are. Not. Involved.”

Sighing again, I nod. “Okay. So, the Reyes’, the Petrov’s and the Fensters’ could be behind the threats. Anyone else?”

He waves his hand through the air. “No. Those are the only families that could possibly overwhelm us if it came down to a war, not just veiled threats in the streets.” Dad sighs and I notice just how tired he looks. The skin around his eyes is tight and his face looks gaunt. “Those families are larger than ours, Carter. They have more men. We have more reach, but they could take us in sheer numbers. We need to figure out who the fuck is after us and we need to stop them before it gets too far. I don’t want a fucking war.” He pauses, his gaze boring into me so deeply, it’s like he’s seeing into my soul. “I need to know you’ll do whatever it takes to ensure we’re not the family that’s wiped out.”

“Of course, Dad. Always.”

He stares at me for many long moments. I don’t break eye contact just as he taught me. Then he nods, lacing his hands on his desk. “When the time comes, I’ll remind you that you said that. And I don’t want to hear shit about you saying no.”

“Saying no to what?”

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