Page 143 of Their Knotty Pack
"What can you offer us, exactly?" Grayson asks carefully. "That we don't already have, I mean."
"Offeryou?" My brows shoot up in mock confusion. "I don't work with grunts. I want the higher ups."
"Did you just call us fucking grunts?" Chris growls. "We're not grunts,mouse," he sneers the nickname.
"Oh, you're not?" I ask, still in that innocent voice. "I thought for sure you had someone with more resources, money, and brains running the whole thing."
"Careful Bethany…"Hunter warns, but his voice grounds me.
"You're just a bunch of lawyers though." My nose wrinkles. "It's not like you have any real power. It's why you have to work with Carlson and Lopez."
"Let's get one thing straight, mouse," Preston gives a terrifying smile. "We don'thaveto work with them. Their purpose? It's to makeourlives easier. They are the grunts here. Carlson brings us people, and Lopez tells us which omegas are most likely to cause trouble for the OMS. So tell me, what canyouoffer us?"
"It's not quite the confirmation we need,"Hunter says lowly."Keep pushing."
"Think of it this way. The omegas who call you directly? They have money. They're more important, which means, more people are likely to miss them." My stomach turns at my own words. "The omegas coming to Omegas First? They're coming because they have no choice. It's free, they're poor, which means they have less connections and their disappearances will fly further under the radar. I have full. Access."
I swear, money signs pop up in Preston's and Grayson's eyes. Then…well, I think of something they'll love even more. "And think how suspicious it will look if all of Brody's Benson's clients mysteriously go missing?"
Surprise flits across their features and they exchange looks. I think I got them.
"But…before I commit to anything…" I lean forward, their eyes tracking me. "I want to know where they go."
"You meanyou haven't figured it out yet, mouse? And here I thought you had gotten so smart." Preston smirks at me.
At my unimpressed look, he chuckles. "Who is the biggest crime family trafficking omegas on the west coast? After the fighting rings got shut down, they had to think of a new operation. We're Starbrook City's one way ticket to the Russian Mafia's bad side, if you know what I mean."
"Get them to spell it out, bluebell. Demand information on how you get paid."
"How are you gonna pay me then?" I ask, tapping my nails on the table. "I want to save up enough to get away from that pack as soon as possible. And since you four cost me my job at the OMS…" I shrug, crossing my arms.
Grayson lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. If it makes you feel any better, Lopez already hated you, we just…gave her a push."
Oh yeah. I feelsomuch better.
I roll my eyes. "So? The payment?"
"Calm down, little rat." Chris grits out. "You'll get your pay when we get ours."
"Which is…?" I fix him with a"get on with it"look.
"Oh my gods." Tucker throws his hands up. "It's the same as with Lopez and Carlson. You get us our target, we find a way to acquire them. It can take anywhere in between one and three days for the Vasiliev family to send someone to pick 'em up. Then, we get our payment, deposited into our accounts. Then we pay whoever helped acquire the target."
"That's how it works every time?" I ask, while Hunter chuckles lowly in my ear. "All seventy-eight times?"
Chris laughs. "Huh. I didn't realize it had gotten that high, but six years, roughly 10-12 omegas a year…Yeah seventy-eight omegas seems about right—"
"Fucking bingo,"Hunter says in my ear at the same time Georgia appears out of nowhere, slamming Preston's face down into the table and bringing his hands behind his back.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney—" His Miranda Rights being read is drowned out by the sound of Titus pulling Chris out of his chair and putting him on the floor. Other people, ones who I didn't even realize were undercover, burst into action, making sure each member of Pack Hansen is subdued before Georgia can get to handcuffing them. The rest of the restaurant drops silent as they all gawk at the prestigious lawyers being put in handcuffs.
Arms wrap around me, pulling me backwards, but the lemon and ginger scent tell me it's just my alpha.
"Hunter," I breathe, and he turns me around to face him, looking me over like I might be hurt even though he saw every single thing through the cameras.
He looks…pissed.
That anger turns on Pack Hansen as they're led out of the restaurant, spewing vitriol at me. All I do is give them a little finger wave.
