Page 99 of Why Cruise

“Willow would agree.” Jealousy flashed in her eyes. She had been trying to get a hold of my dick for months. Years really.

I pulled a notepad from my pocket. Every hotel room had a notepad tucked in a drawer. No clue why. I tossed it at Gaston’s feet. They all stared at it. Tommy got up with a “fuck”, scooped it off the floor and handed it to Gaston.

“You already know Willow’s alpha is comfortable in the cuck chair, so she’s not technically stepping out on her alpha.” I said, as Gaston flipped through the pages.

“He probably wants to keep that quiet, though.” He mused.

“Sterling Kelwood uses his charity to groom young omegas. Bob Johnson is hiding his considerable gambling debts from his pack. There’s that little dick wad, the trust fund brat with the big watch? I wrote his name down. He likes his omegas to be unconscious before he starts.”

“Oh yeah, he bought a shit ton of Disco,” Tommy offered.

“Ooo,” Catherine said with sick glee.

“Done right, you could make millions off that.” I nodded at the pad.

“Youhavebeen a busy boy.”

Gaston tapped the pad. “Nothing on here about Twill.”

I feigned a bored shrug. “Twill’s a boy scout. Living in his elder fuck boy era and dating paragons.” That was old news, but I was counting on them not following the society papers and clipping all of Justice’s headlines, like I did.

“He put on quite a show for that omega.”

“Fine. You want the hot goss on that.” I motioned to the stage. “That performance tonight was cover for some light money laundering. Twill owed Aria a favor. She needed funding for her charity.” I lied.

“Hmmm.” Gaston said. I wasn’t sure he was buying it. My tolerance for bullshit was at an all-time low. No telling how long I could hold this facade.

“Tommy, you think we can ransom a billionaire to himself?” Gaston stood and put a hand in his pocket.

“Yeah, I think we could. Been telling you that’s the best plan.”

I took shallow breaths to keep my growl from rolling out and snapping his head right off.

“He’s alone. No pack. Hm.”

“We got postcards from home,” Catherine said, draping an arm over Gaston’s shoulder, tapping it like she was reminding him.

“Venom has been making some inroads in the Mired district.”

I shrugged again and focused on every muscle, staying cool and relaxed.

“The word is Fight Night at the Pax is going to go clean. Venom plans to take on the more exciting parts of that kind of business, since the Pax won’t.”

“Great. Are we hosting a ribbon cutting or something for the two bit drug dealer?” I snapped.

“He has a man down here looking to recruit some talent.” Gaston raised a bushy eyebrow.

This was a thinly veiled threat to dump me in a fighting ring.

“Gas, at this point, I’d take a fighting ring over you. I have more than paid back what I owe you. Get off my dick.”

“Sweet boy.” Catherine’s smile was pure spite. “You think this is still about money?”

“He’s also looking for some softer talent.”

“You two are cartoon gangsters. Which is why you’re never going to get anywhere. If you can’t say the words, you can’t do the crime. Human trafficking. That’s what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be so crass.” Catherine rolled her eyes.

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