The drive gives me a chance to go through different possible scenarios, but once I see the large iron gate, I switch my thoughts to action, type in the code, and wait for the gate to swing open before moving down the long driveway to the mansion.
There are only a few cars out front. But some of them are surprises, making this meeting even more deadly.
Not bothering to lock the car door, I make my way into the house, where Claire stands a few feet from the entrance.
“Do you know what it’s about?” she demands, stepping deep into my space.
“Only that he called a meeting. We’ll find out soon enough.”
“Yeah, well, I’d like to know what we’re walking into before the bomb goes off.”
Brushing past her, I respond, “Take it up with someone else. I just do what I’m told.”
She huffs but follows me toward the basement.
Claire hates to be the last to know anything—it’s a foreign concept for her, as she’s in the loop nine times out of ten. If the meeting didn’t already have an air of gloom, it did now.
The basement is enormous, and seems to go on forever in both directions. There’s the finished civilized part where the meetings were held, along with spaces for entertainment, including a pool table and bar games. The other unfinished side represented the harshness of our world. In that section, rooms were soundproofed, with concrete floors. I had a feeling we would use both sides tonight.
Lucas sits at the head of the large table in the middle of the room in his signature suit, Wil and Big Al either side, with Elijah to Wil’s right. My dad sits to Big Al’s left. A few higher-ups sit as well, while others like me stand. Only those who were needed are here tonight. If he’d called everyone, this place would be overflowing with men from the upper level to the basement.
Lucas tilts his head in Big Al’s direction, signaling for him to speak.
“Tonight Wil and a few of the boys went to meet with our Russian friends. Nikolay informed us that he had a meeting with Logan Regio on behalf of his father. They were asking questions about our contact and how they could get something similar with a better cut for the Russians.”
Everyone seems to talk at once, mutters and curses being thrown around. Lucas’s family has a long-standing deal with the guys overseas with the gun trade—there’s a reason he has the best products. Logan and his father should know better than to get involved in that. We don’t get too close to their business, and they don’t get too close to ours. That’s how we all survive, and if anyone outside the family comes for someone, we all stand as one. They’re setting themselves up to have issues with all the other families as well, unless they’re planning to move against us. Acid invades my mouth at the thought. Claire seems to have had the same idea because her face has turned pale.
Lucas raises a hand, and silence falls. “I’ve spoken to Adrian, and he has assured me he knows nothing of this meeting his son held, though I would sooner believe that pigs could fly than anything that comes from that snake’s mouth. So I’ve called for a council meeting to be held. We will handle this. Someone will pay for the insult. But I want all the men to be extra vigilant until it’s dealt with. If anything out of the ordinary happens, I want to be the first one informed. Let everyone else know.”
He turns toward Wil. “We have men going to a sales meeting in a couple of days in Adrian’s territory. Cancel it. No one gets new weapons in that territory for the time being.”
Wil nods in response.
“Send the word out.”
With that, everyone stands to leave except for the men at the table. Claire appears to want to stay. I nod toward the stairs, and she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t test him today,” I whisper to her. “You’ll have your chance to be there soon enough. You beat the guys nine times out of ten as it is.”
“Ten times out of ten is the goal,” she mutters back, causing me to laugh.
“Let the guys keep some pride.”
“But I take such pride in crushing the male ego.” She grins as we exit the stairs.
“You are skilled at it.”
Men pile out behind us.
“I’m going to look into a few things. We’ll talk soon.”
“Claire,” I warn as she moves quickly through the swarm of the others.
“Oh, don’t be such a worrier,” she throws over her shoulder.
Someone runs into my side. Son of a bitch. From the corner of my eye, I see it’s Nick. His eye still appears rough. He says nothing, just glares. I smirk as he continues toward the front door. It takes a whole lot more than a childish move for me to lose my cool. If that’s the game he desires to play, then game on—no time like the present to get a drink and eavesdrop on some conversation. See if there’s anything worth repeating back to the boss.
I’ve avoided Rebecca the last few days and don’t plan on this being the night I break the trend. She needs to get used to me not being around as often and learn to stand up to the others. Knowing her, she’s hiding in her room, eight chapters into a new book.