Page 81 of Devious Eyes
Not one of these fucks will do anything unless they’re told.
We’re met by another one of them blocking our way, his arms halting Quinn from moving forward.
“Weapons?” the guy says, expectancy in his tone. I scan around the area, leaving Quinn to deal with whatever will happen next. It’s a long corridor, walls flanking doorways leading to other rooms, a set of stairs off to the right and left. I peer up them, checking for more guys as we stand still.
“Back off,” Quinn suddenly says, moving forward and barging past. I follow, still scanning and listening for movement upstairs. Nothing. It’s quiet as I trail him along the hallway, glancing into rooms, no sound but the echo of our footsteps.
One Yakuza comes along the side of me from behind, his suited shoulder brushing me as he scurries to get in front of Quinn, presumably to lead the way. Who fucking knows? This is typical Quinn—no conversation unless it’s with the one person who matters.
It’s exactly how we should respond to shit like this.
We eventually break into a large warehouse room with thirty-foot ceilings and rusted metal lining the walls, a high-level office jutting out into the room. Concrete clacks as we walk across it towards the far corner, led that way by the fuck in the suit. I’ve never been closer to pulling my gun in my life. Revenge is clawing its way through me, making me check my own frown and try to be as impartial as I always am. My fingers grip the laptop case instead, eyes still looking around for any sign of Gabby or our guys. There isn’t a goddamn thing. It’s empty but for wooden crates of goods piled high, metal containers blocking the view out to the docks.
We’re taken to a small room at the back guarded by one more Yakuza. He stands firm in front of the open doorway, eyes like slits at Quinn as he approaches.
“Gentlemen, you’ll have to leave your weapons outside,” somebody calls from inside the room. Quinn’s head tilts around the guy, his shoulders loosening their rigid demeanour for a second. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.” Heels sound, their clip gentle on the concrete below us. “This is a business meeting after all.” Quinn snorts, amusement in his tone. I don’t know what the hell for. “I’d like to get out of this particular…situation as soon as you would, I’m sure.”
She comes into view then, her petite body almost eclipsed by the Yakuza in front of her. She’s around five foot four with dark hair, and clothes most couldn’t afford. I recognize her from the library of images I’ve sifted through these past few days. There was never a name attached. Never a position in the hierarchy that I could find either, but she’s got some power we know nothing of. She’s younger than I thought she would be from the photos, too—maybe late twenties, early thirties at most. She narrows her stare over the other guy and draws a cigarette to her mouth as she looks Quinn over with a smile, barely acknowledging my existence.
Fuck her.
“Quinn?” she says, lips widening like a goddamn whore. He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his energy change. He’s become looser, amused. It makes me frown and wonder what the hell’s gotten into him. “Weapons please.” She peers around him at me. “And you’ve brought your accountant with you. Nathan Cane, I presume?”Bitch.“Yours as well.”
Screw that.
I step to the side of him, and then in front.
“Back up into that room,” I snarl out, eyes levelled straight at her. She frowns a little and crosses her arms, a puff of smoke blown out in my direction. “Business meetings should have some pressure attached to them. These weapons will keep you focused. That, and the amount of collateral you’re about to lose if you don’t do as you’re damn well told, should have you sitting your entitled fucking ass down.” Quinn chuckles. She scowls at that, eyes whipping back to him. I keep staring straight at her, shoulder beginning to push into the Yakuza on guard. “Not him. Me. You’re dealing with me.” She looks back at me and lets that smile come again, arms softening until she lets them swing at her side and says something in Japanese to the guard. He moves instantly, opening the route in.
Damn right.
“Where’s the girl?” I spit out, storming over to the desk.
“Oh no. That comes at the end, Nathan,” she says, rounding behind me and sitting across the other side of the desk. I sneer at the thought of getting to the end, listening to the sound of more feet hurrying across the concrete outside. “When you have agreed to our demands.” Demands? Fuck her. She’s not getting a damn thing from Cane this way. “And I’d rather deal with the one in charge.” I glance back to see Quinn pulling his gun and closing the door, his back turned on us. She smiles at me, as if there’s nothing to concern her, and waits for him to say something. My laptop is out and set up, gun laid alongside it before she can blink. “The east coast is what we require for our business to be completed. Specifically, your hold over Chicago’s river and port access.” Of course, it is. “Mr Alves has already conceded his stance. You are the last obstruction to clearing our shipping routes. Your brother knows that well enough.”
Quinn’s right—arrogant little fucks.
“You bring her here now, so I can see her,” I mutter, booting up and inputting codes. I’ll show her a goddamn thief shecan’tintimidate. All these years of manoeuvring as legally as our life allows, trying to act within the rules we live by, and finally the need comes for full on larceny.
No one should ever trust an accountant, certainly not one like me when pushed.
We’re capable of anything given enough impetus.
The financials pop up on screen, all their offshore accounts open for my use if I feel so inclined. It’s taken days for this to happen, constant syntax evaluation and making my way through their cyber security, quietly. Fucking useless firewalls, bugs and flaws weakening their threat vector, allowing me in at the back end. Weak as shit. It was easier than I thought given their stature. No one stopped me. No one even fucking noticed I was coming through back doors. “Or this discussion goes nowhere further than me stripping your east coast assets with the push of a key.”
I lean back in my chair, finger hovering and waiting. She scowls but still doesn’t move or speak. Instead she widens that damn smile, perhaps assuming I’m bluffing or hoping I’m interested in fucking her.
I’m neither.
The damn bitch looks to Quinn again.
“I don’t think there’s any need for—”
“East coast first then.” I turn the screen to her, my finger depressing the key the moment she sees it. Fifty-two million empties into my control, the numbers rolling back until nothing but zero shows on the account balance. “Bring the girl in here before I pull up the west coast assets.”
Still she remains quiet, no movement to get Gabby to me as she continues with that smile. It fucking infuriates me, rage bubbling under my skin regardless of my cool demeanour. And then she damn well laughs. She laughs as if this is a game and nothing is of any goddamn interest to her.
“I’m not sure which Mr Cane I should be conversing with,” she says eventually, catching her breath after whatever hilarity she just went through. “Very smart, Nathan. But your Gabriella is still in my control, so you’ll put our money back.”
