Page 111 of Heartfelt Pain
“You’re tired, sweetheart. I see it on your face. It’s tough, working on your own. And at the end of the day you’re a businesswoman. We’re making you a fair offer. A tidy sum. Something to retire on. That’s rather a lot considering you’re not even thirty yet.”
“And what will you do? Set up at Fujimori’s?”
“My nephew is good with people and he likes sushi. It’ll be a bit of change. It always is when new faces come in. But the Stuarts are known for their efficiency.”
“Are you sure about that? I’ve heard the O’Connells in Dublin are fucking with your supply chains.”
“Yes,” she admits. “But our goal to invest in America predates that bit of. . . nonsense.”
I laugh slightly, lifting my whiskey to my lips. “Billions of dollars in real estate in London isn’t enough?”
“We’re ambitious.”
You’re fucking stupid.
I might harbor wild ambitions of growing, but even I know there’s a risk of popping like a fat balloon if you gobble up too much. No one will appreciate a territory grab by the Stuarts.
“Would you like another one?” Joan asks. She doesn’t mean the whiskey. My fingers keep playing with the silver lighter in my hand.
I light up again.
“It’s incredible what you’ve done,” she patronizes. “Adding to your aunt’s reputable business. We don’t expect you to go off the grid completely.”
“Right.” The cigarette stays by my lips. “I’ll open up shop in Columbus.”
“Crime is everywhere.”
“And what happens when you decide to move shop to the Midwest too?”
Are the Stuarts expecting something like manifest destiny?
“Oh no,” Joan breezes. “Vancouver perhaps, but that’s for the next generation.”
One thing I’ll say: she’s very good with the one-liners.
My chest lifts, straining against the blousy material of my shirt. I already miss the comfy clothes from the past few days.
“Would you like to talk specifics?” Joan asks.
“By specifics you mean what cut rate deal you’ll offer me?” Smoke escapes my mouth. “I suppose I can look forward to more dead bodies if I resist your offers?”
God, the fucking nerve of them. My ex’s didn’t deserve the treatment and I don’t like the outdated tactic.
“Who’s next?” I ask. “You’re already coming after my best friend.”
She tuts under her breath. “No, no, Mattheson gained those enemies on her own.”
“On to Ben, then.” He might be dating Abe Fujimori, but it doesn’t matter. They’ll shift the business elsewhere. They don’t care about keeping the peace between the different criminal syndicates. “But then what? You saw what happened when Leopold went after Lennie Akatov.”
“You’re making this out to be much more nefarious than it is.”
I crush the cigarette into the ashtray. “You’re right.”
Joan blinks.
“I’m hangry.” I brush my hair back and finish off my whiskey. “I told you once to piss off. That I wasn’t going to sell the business. But it’s been five long years.”
Joan cocks her head to the side.
