Page 115 of His Fury

“Zayn,” Angelo greeted as I approached. “I’ve been waiting. You getting lazy?”

I smiled coldly. “Was talking to an old friend of mine upstairs.” I angled myself slightly away from the other guy. “Rina was out. Her knives are as sharp as ever.”

Angelo smirked. “Poisonous, that one.”

He gestured to the space between them. I didn’t sit. Rye flanked me, quiet and unreadable.

“What do you need witnessed?” I asked, my voice flat. I heard the terms, my eyes flicking to Angelo’s when Oleg suggested ten percent, and Angelo nodded in agreement.

Whatthe fuck was that?He never accepted anything that low.

I listened and remained neutral as my role was. When Oleg got up to leave, my hand flashed out and grabbed his wrist.

“Sit the fuck down,” I ordered him coldly. I didn’t give a fuck if he could break me; Rye would put a bullet in his head before he swung the first punch. I looked between the two of them. “You’re wasting my time.”

Oleg looked at my hand on his wrist and back at me. “Off.”

“I’ll break it fucking off if you don’t tell me what the fuck I justwitnessed.”

Angelo picked up his vodka and downed it. “Draw up the paperwork, Rye.” He looked at me. “You and I are going for a walk.”

Rye looked like he was going to say no, but I removed my hand from Oleg, barely touching Rye on the arm as I pulled away, signaling him to stand down.

“Let’s walk,” I told Angelo.

We walked out of the club, and I knew Rye was going to kick my ass for being so rash. But they were testing me, and I would not fall at the first hurdle.

“You got a request from the boss,” Angelo said, his voice flat. “It comes with a deadline. I’m here to make a deal with thatstronzoand you.”

“This isn’t how it works,” I told him as we walked. “You can deal with me in Elixir. Why you pushing?”

“Because they think you’re not in the game, and when someone is weak, there’s movement.” He grunted. “Bianchi’s looking at expansion.”

I scoffed at the thought of who he was competing against. “You mean he’s looking at overstretching,” I replied. “There’s a difference.”

Angelo paused mid-step. “You knew?”

I nodded tersely. “It’s my job to know.”

He resumed walking. “So it’s like that?”

“It’s always like that,” I reminded him. “You want a clean drop, go through me. You want flashy bullshit that’ll burn your ass in six months, take it to New York.”

Angelo smiled. “You always did have a talent for diplomacy.”

I didn’t smile.

“What’s the deadline?”

“Friday.”

It was my turn to stop walking. “Friday?” I asked. “This Friday?”

“Problem?”

It was make-or-break time. This was the consequence of the fuck up with the ledger.

“If you want it clean by Friday, then you need to follow my rules. Same crew, same hours, same accounts. You blink out of order, I’ll drop the entire load in Lake Michigan.”

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