Page 58 of Precious Legacy

As much as Milo is our best chance at having a calm conversation, Varo is also the only person that I believe he will talk to. I don’t know much about Kyrovsky, but between Varo’s mood swings and threats, he’s never once caused us to question whether we’re in danger by being around him. Usually, I’d find that just as intimidating, but something about Milo has me questioning why I don’t. If anything, I find it more suspicious and I always follow my gut when it comes to uncertainty.

“No,” Varo growls. “I’m not fucking doing it!”

“Don’t pretend that your dick isn’t hard for the guy,” I tease, pouring my own drink into a tumbler.

Varo’s eyes narrow and his lips thin. “Fuck you,” he sneers.

“Nah, I prefer your sister.” I take a measured sip from my glass, winking over the edge of it.

I get the reaction I was hoping for; an angry rumble of disapproval and irritation. Teasing our best friend has always been mine and Haldon’s favorite pastime—next to our annual baseball torture session, of course. It’s almost too easy to piss Varo off. It’s also really funny to wind up the guy who insists he can take a joke when, infact, he’s the most reactive when he’s the target.

“You’re a prick,” he mutters. “I see why Alanis hates you so much.”

Rolling my eyes, I resist the urge to answer back with another jibe that involves me and his sister. While I know he’s totally on board with our relationship—or whatever you want to call it right now—I know it bothers him if I start spouting off details. Nobody wants to hear about their sister getting railed, and I respect that. It’s a line I won’t fully cross. I sayfullybecause I still enjoy making Varo uncomfortable, and I’ll do whatever it takes just to get a rise out of him.

Finishing off my drink, I place it back on the cart. “So, are you gonna speak to him, or do I need to find someone else to suck his dick?”

Varo pushes up off the couch, grumbling something inaudible, then finishing with some creative expletives that leave me and Haldon both a little shocked. “You fucking owe me,” he barks over his shoulder before leaving the office, slamming the door behind him.

“I’d rather not,” Haldon murmurs under his breath, and I can’t fight the smile curling my lips.

Moving to the couches, I relax back into the leather. We’ve got another fight coming up this Friday, and while it’s sold out already and we have the lineup of fighters confirmed, I’m still a little apprehensive.

There’s been a lot of talk about the fights—mostly good—but it’s dangerous. I knew what I was getting into when I set this venture up. I knew it was high-risk. But the more talk there is, the more attention we’ll get. Like Black Jack, I’m considering the option of relocating the fight night, sort of like a pop-up event. It’s way less risky when only a limited number of people know the location, and the mystery will probably draw a lot more interest; enough to get another night running.

I still need to run the idea past Haldon since I’m utilizing his resources and talent to find discreet spots and market the nights. It’ll take more planning and a hell of a lot more money and resources, but it’s totally doable.

Haldon vacates his desk and comes to join me on the couches, taking a seat on the one opposite me. “What’s on your mind?” he asks.

It’s almost concerning how quickly he switches emotions, but I’m used to it after twenty years of friendship. His ability to school his emotions and refocus his energy is impressive, to say the leas. It’s probably why he’s been so successful in taking over his father’s businesses.

Kicking up my feet on the coffee table between us, I sift through my thoughts. “I think we should move the fight nights,” I divulge.

“Is that all?” he quizzes.

No.“Yes,” I grit out. The truth is, I haven’t been able to think straight since I asked Cillian to locate Ashton Greedy. My palms are constantly sweating and I’m ready to explode at any point. I’ve tried to mask it with the guise that my fight nights are growing increasingly more popular, but in reality, that’s something I could handle blindfolded.

The real mindfuck is waiting around for my uncle. He’s good, but if someone doesn’t want to be found, it can take time. Time is something I definitely have plenty of, but not what I want. I can be a patient person, but the need for violence crawls under my skin like an addiction.

“Well, I can?—”

A knock sounds at the door, cutting Haldon off. His uncle Caleb peers through the door before stepping in fully. He’s worked for Haldon’s dad, and in turn, Haldon himself, for years. Apparently, a lot went on between Hunter and Cori, to the point that Hunter felt responsible for her brother andgave him a place to live and a job. I would say Haldon gets his generosity from his dad in that respect, but his mom is equally compassionate.

“You have a visitor,” Caleb announces, his British accent toned down with an American lilt. He glances at me with a smirk. “Downstairs.”

Haldon and I both hold a questionable expression on our faces because we weren’t expecting anyone, but then it clicks and I’m pushing out of my seat and pacing towards the door. I’m practically itching with potent violence as I march down the stairs, ready to unleash it. Haldon and Caleb are close behind me, and when I reach the door to the basement of The Ravenite, Cillian is leaning against the wall, lighting up a cigarette.

“He’s in there?” I ask him, trying to tamper down my eagerness.

Cillian offers me a nod of affirmation, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Fucker has security around him twenty-four-seven,” he remarks. “But I worked around that small issue.”

I don’t ask for more details. I’m more than appreciative of his skillset and what he’s done for our families. He gets the job done, rarely asks questions, and his ethics are…well, I don’t question them because he doesn’t seem to have any.

“Who is it?” Haldon asks, coming down the last of the steps to join us.

Turning, I pull my brass knuckles from my pocket and slide them down my fingers. “It’s best you don’t know,” I tell him. “This is just something personal I need to take care of.”

With a quick nod, he makes a hasty exit. “Let me know when you need a cleanup crew,” he throws over his shoulder.

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