Page 63 of Traitor

Ronnie nodded. “Yes. Whenever the heads of two warring families meet, there’s always a private glass of whiskey shared. During that moment, it gives both men the opportunity to express their wrongdoings without any form of punishment before lawyers are brought in and documents are drawn up.”

Char looked up at me. “Seems harmless enough.”

I looked into her eyes and saw a plan formulating behind them. So, I went along with it. “I’m going to head off with Ronnie, but I’m sure he’d tell you to feel free to make yourself comfortable. Correct?”

Ronnie nodded. “Of course. My butler will escort you out back to our garden. It’s beautiful out there, especially this time of the year. There are drinks and fresh fruits plucked straight from the vines and trees, so feel free to indulge yourself.”

I patted Char on the ass softly. “I’ll come get you myself when we’re ready.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Don’t you two have too much fun now.”

I winked at her. “We won’t, I promise.”

I watched as she was led away before I turned to face Ronnie, but instead of him waiting for me I watched as he rounded a corner to make his way down the hallway. I buttoned my suit jacket and followed after him, watching the old, lumbering man trying to get a head-start on me.

It didn’t take much to catch up, though.

And I kept my eyes peeled as he ushered me into his fireplace room.

“I poured them when I saw you two pulling up,” Ronnie said.

I nodded. “How nice.”

He held his hand out. “Have a seat. Take either glass you wish. And yes, before you take a sip, I’ll take a sip.”

I snickered. “Smart man.”

I eased myself into the high-back leather chair and reached for the glass closest to me. No use in playing coy. I lifted my glass and waited for him to take a sip, and when he did I watched closely for any signs of poisoning, or any reaction that might pop despite a tolerance to said poisoning. Most men like ourselves operated in much the same way: part of our training growing up was becoming somewhat immune to the most basic of poisons. Usually by injection, but sometimes by ingestion.

And when I didn’t see any symptoms or signs, I took a sip myself.

“See? All clear,” Ronnie said.

I nodded. “And good. How long was this aged?”

He leaned back. “Over fifty years. It’s easily one of my best brands. I only bring it out for things such as this.”

I took another sip. “Fair enough.”

He threw back the rest of his whiskey. “So, as I said over the phone, I’ve gotten older. Possibly a bit weaker. It’s not secret nowadays that I have to spend more money for others to do my dirty work because I simply can’t any longer.”

I felt my tongue going numb. “What the--?”

Ronnie leaned forward. “You know, just because I’m older in age, though, doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

My vision started to tunnel. “What the fuck was in that drink?”

His voice leaned into my ear. “And if you think for one second I’m making a truce with you and your disgusting family, you can think again. Your little plaything put a bullet in my half-brother when he had enough courtesy not to kill her after I told him to dispose of her.”

It felt as if my bones had become jelly. “What did you just give me?”

He grabbed the back of my head. “You know, not all poisons are common. And not all poisons are administered to us through our youth.”

He dragged my face closer to his as my vision began to blur.

“Ever heard of a calabar bean, Mateo?”

Good holy fuck.“You son of a bitch.”

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