Page 28

"You can talk to her in a couple of hours. I'm on my way home. I just have to make another quick stop." I say more than I usually would offer, but my mood has been getting better the closer I get to my home. "Now listen, four of your jurors are in Carlos's pocket. Find out who they are and give me their names."

There is silence on the other end for a moment. "What are you going to do?"

"Why? Are you not going to give me their names if I say I'm gonna hurt them?"

"These are normal people, Antonio, you can't?—"

"Hey, we're on the same side here, or have you forgotten?" I remind him. "Their names, tomorrow."

I hang up before he can start on his moral bullshit. Bruce needs to understand something: I’m in charge here. Not him. Not the goddamn law. I stop the car in front of Kevin's house. It's ironic that the State Attorney General and I live in the same neighborhood. He probably has no clue that I had this area built out, none of the people living here do. They think they chose this place because of the safety, the privacy, the exclusivity. They don’t realize they live inmyworld.

I straighten my tie, roll my shoulders, and notice that my cuffs are stained with blood—just a few drops, but enough to send a message.

I ring the doorbell.

The door opens too slowly for my patience, and a maid appears. She's a timid little thing. "Can I help you?" she asks, already looking like she wants to slam the door in my face.

"I need to see Kevin," I send my most charming smile at her.

"Who may I say?—"

Now she's wasting my time. I push her to the side and march into the grand foyer. Ah, he chose theCambridge, my favorite of the models.

"Sir, you can't—" the maid's voice is turning shrill, hurting my ears.

"Kevin?" If memory serves, the office is just to the right.

"What—" Kevin rises behind his chair. "Call the cops," He says to whoever he is talking to on the phone he has pressed to his ear.

"No need, I'm just here for a friendly chat." I pull out one of the leather armchairs in front of his desk and make myself comfortable.

The maid has followed me and is wringing her hands in clear distress. I would have pity on her and say something to assuage her, but I can't stand whiny people. In my business, you can't show weakness, especially not in front of others. Kevin could misinterpret it. He might even think he could try to outwit me. Yeah, good luck with that, asshat. I glance at her, cock an eyebrow, and she scurries away.

"You should hire a butler," I smirk, steepling my hands and resting my chin on the tips. "If you don't want people to barge in." Maids never open my doors, only my guards.

From the other end of the phone, I hear a female voice yelling, "Kevin… Kevin, what's going on?"

Expectantly, I glare at Kevin and mouth,What's it gonna be? With a resigned sigh, he says into the phone, "It's okay, sweetheart. It's all good… no, no, you don't need to call the cops." He sends a questioning look at me, and I shrug noncommittally. "Yes, yes, I love you too. I'll call you later."

He pushes the end button and turns to me, "Well, this is a surprise."

"I've been told Carlos Orsi has approached you," I inform him without preamble.

His face pales. "How?" But then he regains control of himself. "And you don't like that idea?"

"You've been on my payroll long enough to know better." My eyes study him over my steepled fingers. "You should have informed me."

"He's not the first to try to buy me. Do you want me to inform you about every thug that?—"

My right hand turns into a fist and slams on his desk, interrupting whatever stupidity was about to leave his mouth. I'm not interested in his lame excuses.

"You know exactly why this is different." I shake my head. "I took you for a smarter man."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I don’t make threats, Kevin," I say, letting my voice drop low, almost amused.

"I make decisions. And yours is about to get very simple."