Page 95 of Lavish

While Serena had the biggest office in the building, I’d been relegated off to an old side room they’d been using for storage. I knew Serena did that shit on purpose.

I shut the door behind him and double-checked the blinds.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said.

He chuckled. “It’s been a while. We should catch up.”

“We’re not friends,” I said flatly.

I wanted Victor out of here as quickly as possible. Erik had been right all those years ago. Victor wasn’t a good man. He was a fucking criminal. But sometimes to survive, you had to do things. It wasn’t like the Kings gave a fuck if the Whitmores lived or starved.

I just walked around the desk—if you could call a scratched-up table a desk—and sat down.

“I got the money. I just need you to do your thing.” Victor sat in the chair across from me, and pointed at the computer.

Despite what Erik and others thought of me, I wasn’t going to be fucking stupid this time. If I let Victor come back and tell me what the fuck to do with my own business, what had I worked for all these years?

“There’s a problem.”

Victor raised a brow. “There always is.”

“The consolidation of King Developments and Whitmore Ventures isn’t done yet. If I pull in outside capital now—especially silent capital—it’ll trigger questions. Paper trails, audit flags. Serena will sniff it out before it clears.”

Victor stared at me. “So? Aren’t you the man in the relationship?”

Don’t let him piss you off.

I needed to stall. For as long as fucking possible till I could get out of this mess.

“Tell me why you actually need me here,” I said.

Victor frowned. “I already fucking?—”

“I want to know the truth. Front and back, Victor. That’s the least you can do.”

His lips thinned, and he narrowed his eyes at me, staring hard enough to burn a hole between my eyes. Then finally the man sighed.

“It was one of my sites down in LA. The poor piece of shit’s name was Luis Calderón.” Victor worked his jaw. “It was an accident. Next thing you know, cameras, people asking questions, private investigators?—”

“Private investigators?” I asked.

“Listen, all you need to know and do is hold my money so these blood-sucking ticks and the court systems don’t get what I rightfully earned for myself. Just like I helped you when your daddy pissed away all your money. It’s quid pro quo.”

I just needed him to say more.

“Victor—”

“I’m done talking.”

I frowned at him. “I’m not moving a cent until I know people won’t be paying attention. If I move too fast, I burn all of us. We need to take it slow.”

Victor’s face darkened. “I made things clear to you, Miles.”

“I understood perfectly.” I sat up straighter in my seat.

“I heard about what happened at the gallery. We don’t want to add me into the mix as well. If I go down, you don’t think they won’t look into me? I keep records, Miles, my boy. Good-ass records. Audio. I’m sure your wife wouldn’t want to be blindsided by this terrible news.”

I gritted my teeth. “Stay away from my wife.”