Page 125 of House of Payne

Does he think he could just waltz in here and make me turn my back on everything I’ve helped build? As if I’d ever trust them after the stunts they keep pulling?

Going back on one deal is bad enough.

Entering into a deal with them a second time would make me naive or desperate, and I’m neither.

I shake him again, and his teeth rattle. “You’re trying to get a share of profits you haven’t earned. Money you shouldn’t go anywhere near. Do you know what happens when you overreach in our line of work?”

Michael lifts his chin. “You sink or swim.”

I press my face closer to his. “Feeling lucky, you son of a bitch? What if I just throw you in the deep end and we test that theory?”

Even if I have to hold his head down myself, I’m eager to teach him a lesson.

How long has he been planning this?

How long has he been lurking in the shadows and watching?

And how much of my inability to find another spot did he orchestrate?

Fucking hell, Payne. You should’ve been able to sniff this a mile away.

Michael pales. “I’m more valuable to you alive than dead.”

Michael is finally realizing that he’s at a disadvantage.

Having him brought to my office wasn’t just about getting to the bottom of what’s happening.

He knows I can end his life with a snap of my fingers, and have it covered up.

I only need to whisper into the right ears, and the Everetts will be scrambling to make things right with us again, barely giving their fallen comrade a second glance.

“Maybe, but I can easily broker a deal with your girlfriend. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to amend the terms once he hears how our meeting went.”

A shadow settles over Michael’s face, and his expression hardens. “You’d risk war over this?”

I release him, take my gun out of its holster, and point it at his head. “Care to find out?”

Michael throws up his hands in panic. “Don’t be fucking stupid. It’s a fair deal. You already make a lot of money—”

I remove the safety and crack my neck. “Five… four…”

“Come on.”

“Three… two…”

“Fine,” Michael yells. “You win, you bastard.”

I inch closer and fire, and the bullet whizzes past his ear, clipping him. “That’s not good enough. Don’t lose your nerve now, Everett. This was just getting interesting.”

He won’t walk out of here thinking he has the upper hand.

With my fingers closed around the gun, nothing can touch me, especially not Michael fucking Everett.

Michael touches his ear, and it comes back red. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re a fucking moron. How about you try not insulting the man who’s waving a gun at you?”

Maybe I’ve overestimated his intelligence.