Page 100 of Demanding Mob Boss

Connor brings the dealer into my office, showing him to one of the chairs in front of my desk. My cousin sits to the side, out of the peripheral vision of the dealer, but in a position to take action if I give the signal.

He's learning the tricks of the trade for enforcers and things like this are becoming second nature to him.

Lachlan has already met with the dealer, but Smithy insisted on meeting with the boss before finalizing the deal. It annoys me, but I want the weapons, so I had Connor set up the meeting.

"You know what we want," I tell him.

He looks at Anna in my arms and smirks, giving her a once over with his eyes that makes me want to gouge them out. Second mistake.

The first was demanding to meet with me personally. I couldn't kill him if he wasn't here.

"Mr. Farrar gave me a list of requested supplies, but it is a much bigger order than your organization usually makes. Is there a reason you want incendiary grenades?"

My eyes narrow and then I look to Connor. "Was he wanded?"

Connor jerks his head in affirmative. "His cell is in the safe drawer."

No one but a select few are allowed to bring anything that could be used as a listening or recording device into my office. Anyone who wants to meet with me also submits to being scanned for bugs.

"The fuck are you doing trying to get information?" I demand.

Anna stirs a little, patting my chest, like she's calming me down and then she snuggles into me again.

The dealer shrugs, like he hasn't realized how close to death he has gotten. Huh. I guess that kinder, gentler me that reacted to Carmen Vega isn't here right now even though my girl is in my arms.

Fury about what happened to Anna yesterday roils just under the surface and this guy looking at her like she's his next perverted meal is making it rumble like magma in an active volcano.

"My inventory is low right now, but I can get your items in a couple of weeks."

My eyes narrow. "My second told you the order needs to be expedited."

"You aren't my only customer."

"Who the fuck takes precedence over me?" I demand. I'd be on my feet if I wasn't holding Anna.

"That's confidential. I am known for my discretion."

"You are known for getting shit to me on time. Two weeks is not timely."

"That's the best I can do."

Is he working for the Gutierrez Cartel? It's one thing to be an independent operator; it's another to provide weapons to my enemies.

I pin him with my glare. "Are you supplying the Kicks Bandidos?"

"Look, maybe I can get half of your order a week earlier, provided the right incentive." He looks right at Anna and there's no question what he means.

"Stupid fuck," Connor mutters. "And I'm going to have to clean up the mess."

I pull the gun from under my desk. My office is soundproofed, but it is fitted with a silencer anyway. You never know when you'll need to shoot someone with the door ajar. Better safe than sorry.

Anna makes a sound of distress. Did she see the gun? No. She couldn't have. I still have it in the hand behind her back. Something has her upset though. I look down and she's watching the dealer, revulsion on her pretty face.

"What is itmo chroí?"

"The way he's looking at me makes me want to vomit. It's like Grieves." Her voice is losing the sweet, just-a-little-out-of-it tone she gets when she's lost in her post pleasure haze.

Like hell is this fuckwit taking that from her.

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