Page 54 of Undertow

I scan the scene I’ve spent the last two hours meticulously setting up for my photoshoot. I can’t afford to hide it all and start over, but… shit.

My stomach grinds at the thought of what I’m about to say, but what choice do I have? Damn Abe for putting me in this position. I’m going to beat the shit out of him when I find him.

“Can you do me a favor?” The words come out with way more benevolence than I feel. I can’t even look at her face. I don’t have to. Ifeelthe sinister delight emanating from her.

“Anything for you, baby,” she coos in a fake drawl she knows will rile me. She also knows I have to take it. I have to take anything she throws at me right now.

My jaw tightens as I rein in my anger. “Stand outside the door to the cellar until Abe gets back and make sure no one comes down.”

Her smile widens and cuts into me. Her gaze too.

“Hmm… I could do that,” she says, tracing her lower lip while openly scanning me.

I pull in a deep breath. “What do you want? And no, I will not fuck you for this.”

“For this?So that means…” Her smile turns vicious, and I grind my teeth.

“Scarlett, please. I don’t have time for games. Just tell me what you want.”

“Why do you always have to be an ass about everything?” she whines, crossing her arms.

“Scarlett!”

“Fine. Dinner tonight. Private. In my room.”

Ice washes through me as I weigh my options. What options? I look back at the stacks of cash I’ve arranged to make it look like a huge deal just went down. I even took the time to sort the bills and arrange the duffle bags in convincing proportions in case the Hartfords scrutinize the images. Even if I was willing to putit all back and start over later, there’s a chance I’d be seen while packing up. It took forever to drag all this shit out of the safe. I was given permission for the staging, not to get caught like an amateur.

“Fine,” I grunt. “Just dinner though.”

I meet her gaze with a warning, and her return look sends a wave of revulsion through me.

“Let me know when you’re finished,” she sings in a sickly sweet voice as she heads toward the stairs.

Abe is a fucking dead man.

After finishingmy photoshoot and carefully returning every bill to where I got it, I find Merrick in the war room suite to review the images.

“These four,” he says.

I agree. The orientation makes the take seem massive, which is what we want. In reality, I consolidated everything we had on hand to make it look like a single transaction went down. The stash represents months of income. We’ve never done a deal this big. It’s dangerous and risky and would require getting into bed with an operation several times our size.

An operation like the Red Leaf Cartel.

McArthur loves to flaunt the connection I’ve spent a year and a half setting up for him, but I doubt he’ll ever have the balls to use it. Big money means big penalties if things go wrong, and deep down, McArthur is a coward. Being evil doesn’t make you brave; it makes you willing to exploit those who are.

We want the Hartfords tothinkwe’re big time though.

“Hey, about what happened in the penthouse,” Merrick says in a low voice.

I clench my jaw and stuff my phone back in my pocket. “It’s fine.”

“It was bullshit.”

I lift my gaze to his, surprised at the sincerity there.

“You’ve done nothing but prove yourself over and over again. You deserved better than that.” His eyes search mine with an understanding I’ve never gotten from him before. A brotherhood of sorts. Maybe we are brothers now. Trauma binds more than blood, and our entire relationship has been forged by violence.

“I’m just glad Patrick was stupid enough to use our own technology,” I mutter to deflect.