Page 125 of Broken Dreams

CHRISTIAN

“So you want to stay in Minneapolis, I hear?” Corbin asks, smoking his cigar. He has an alpha guard sitting next to him, stoically gazing at me without any apparent emotion on his face.

He was introduced as Shaw Mohan, though I’d heard through the grapevine of gossip that he was running other avenues of Corbin’s businesses. I’m unsure if I should feel special for bringing him out of retirement or worried. I’d really rather not end up wearing cement before being tossed into one of Minneapolis’ lakes.

“Yes, I do,” I say. “I’ve been looking at relocating and expanding my business. I’m not looking to step on any toes, though.”

That’s not entirely true. While I do want to stay if Linus and Makayla are here, I have more than enough clients to keep me busy. I also have people in Canada I supply, and my bank account isn’t hurting at all from my current hiatus.

I also know none of them will find a replacement because I find them all the good shit. I haven’t taken any time off in years and they know it. The motorcycle club in New York City that I supply grumbled a bit, until I dropped off a shipment through my carriers and sent him the invoice. His complaints went silent, and I got paid.

I offer the best service. No one can deny that.

“There’s rumors that you’ve lost something,” Corbin says shrewdly. “I don’t want any shit started in my city, Christian. The lot of us will take bets on how quickly we can kill you andfeed you to the pigs. I’m all for biology and destiny doing its thing, but consent is also important, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, stifling my desire to respond in a different language. Fuck, he reminds me of my father, all demanding and shit. Only he’s alive. “I have lost two people, because of my own inaction. I’d never force either of them to do anything due to their history and I do believe in free will.”

Shaw shifts in his seat before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. The alpha’s suit seems to strain from the movement, his body appearing to dislike it. His beard makes him appear even meaner, his lips settled into a thin line.

“That’s all well and good, but we don’t let just anyone into our city,” he murmurs. “You need to be vetted by the families to ensure you’re not as much of a shite head as you appear.”

Looking down at my well cut custom gray three piece suit, I attempt to figure out what he means. I always look sharp, I’ve never thought about how it would appear to others. Shaw’s suit has suspenders and is all black, appearing well loved but functional.

Fuck it, I’m a whore for nice clothes, Shaw can choke on a dick.

“I don’t think my clothes nor my appearance have anything to do with this conversation,” I say. Dammit, I sound like I have a stick in my ass, but I’m beginning to lose my cool.

I was fine when Ambrose teased me, but now I think my desperation is showing.

Celtic Knots and Corbin are my only access points to finding my omegas. This club has allowed me to enjoy information I wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else. There’s a beta who is especially loose with her gossip about the mafia world, but none of that matters if I get accepted into their circles.

I need to be able to bump into my omegas in a natural way, so I can ease back into their lives. I can get my control back if Iknow I have a chance to speak to them, I won’t allow myself to scare Linus again.

My face is still swollen from the punch he threw three days ago, and it’s starting to change colors.

“The bruise on your face is what he meant, boyo,” Corbin says, smirking. “Your clothes make no difference to us.”

“Oh,” I mutter, feeling dumb. I think I’m letting myself get into my head too much. My father was an abusive fuck, who was also fairly homophobic.

It’s the first place I went when Shaw said what he did.

“I don’t give a shite who ya fuck,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I want to make sure you’re not going to start a brawl if we give you a chance.”

“I never threw a punch,” I explain. “Look, I’ve fucked up with my omegas, and I just need a chance to figure things out. Things are tenuous because they’re fugitives. I appreciate that you’re careful of who you let into your circles.”

“Who are they running from?” Corbin winces as he looks around. It’s a Friday night, so it’s not as quiet as it’s been earlier in the week. “Let’s move this to the office.”

Standing, I follow them out of the main area down the hall. I don’t want to be overheard, so I don’t mind the change.

Shaw unlocks the door to the room and turns on the light, and I find that it’s a smaller version of a lounge. There’s a bar, comfortable chairs, and not a single paper or device in sight.

“Ambrose does all the back office stuff at home,” Corbin says with a shrug. “Why spend more time away than necessary?”

“Corbin,” Shaw says from the bar, brow raised.

The man in question winces, as if he’s been caught giving away too much information. I can tell Corbin wants to let me in, but Shaw is going to be who I need to win over.

Not a tall order at all. Fuck me.

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