Page 42 of Adonis: The Cost of a Billionaire's Heart
“We met in the back of some rundown, smoky cigar bar—a real hole in the wall. Edward, your father, sat across the table from me, grilling me with a mug that could make God Almighty sweat, and a Cuban cigar tucked between his lips.”
The mention of my father made my chest burn. Not because it was wrong, but because it was true. I could see him perfectly, so much so that a soft chuckle slipped past my lips. “Sounds like him.”
“He was a bad mothafucka—a real gangsta amongst wolves. God bless the dead.”
I raised my glass at that, and Ellis continued. “He had a trade route that nobody could penetrate. Not even me. And I wanted in.”
“Why didn’t things work out between you two back then?”
Ellis’s broad shoulders shrugged. “The stars didn’t align, I guess,” he answered, keeping his response a bit mysterious. “He spoke highly of you, though. Talked about how brilliant youwere at such a young age. Said you’d either scale his empire to unimaginable heights one day or burn that mothafucka to the ground and build something brand new.”
I took a swig from my glass before leaning in. “I kept my hands clean as long as I could.”
A ghost of a smile faintly washed over his face. “And now, you’ve inherited every key, every network, and every connection your father ever made.”
I nodded slowly, absorbing his words for the truth that they were. It’d been a long few months trying to prove myself to Ellis, and being at the end of it all still didn’t feel quite real. I was on the brink of doing precisely what my father believed I’d do—scaling our family empire to the fucking moon.
Ellis stood, looking ready to return to negotiations. “So, this fifty million buys us more than a partnership with a pretty price tag—it secures our funnel through your international routes while giving you access to mine,” he stated, voice smoother than the aged cognac in my glass.
I dipped my chin, letting the moment breathe for a second. “That’s right.”
“My connect in Bolivia says the customs shift is holding for now. Our men rotate in during the night shift to ensure everything runs smoothly. But you should move quickly.”
“Understood. I’ve already redirected our logistics division. Narcotics marked as soybeans. No red flags thus far.”
Ellis’s jaw tightened as we sipped in silence. He was either impressed or surprised that I was already two steps ahead. There was a shift in the air—an unspoken moment of shared understanding—two predators playing the same dangerous game and recognizing the other’s fangs. Not enemies. But damn sure not best friends. Just two polished gangstas molded by the darker side of the game: wealth, power, respect, and silence paid in billions and blood.
Then he glanced toward the glass wall that separated us from where Sim sat in the waiting area. Her soft, caramel legs were crossed as her eyes skimmed a business magazine I knew she wasn’t reading, but she still looked damn good pretending.
“Does she know?” he probed.
I drained what was left inside my glass before answering. “She understands,” I answered, keeping my answer brief.
“Is she loyal?”
“To me, and that’s all that matters.”
Ellis nodded while belting out a soft chuckle. An unusual gentleness grazed his tone—one I hadn’t heard since he’d talked about his childhood and wanting to meet Mason. “Your father and I may not have agreed on the way we did business, but one thing we agreed on went without saying.”
“And what was that?”
“Marriage,” he replied plainly, tapping his ring finger as he lifted his eyes to meet mine. “When you find the right woman to be the cornerstone of your family and your heart, you hold onto her tighter than your last hundred-dollar bill and never let go.”
I understood his words upon hearing them, but I still had my doubts. I slowly swung my head. “That may be true, but I’ve seen the cost of love in this world.”
“It’s costly,” he agreed with a nod. “But what it costs in blood, it pays back in balance.”
The heavy silence hung between us as I nodded. “I hope you don’t think I’m marrying Simora for appearances or to make headlines. I’m marrying her because she’s the first person to choose me over my money. My father used to say the same thing about my mother,” I said genuinely, realizing in real time.
“This is the most I’ve heard you speak about her, but when you do, it’s always with such admiration. Like she’s the only thing keeping you from selling your soul to the devil himself.It’s pure. She seems good for you. The kid too. They’ll keep you grounded and on your toes at the same time.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I replied genuinely.
“You’re welcome. Now, let’s finalize this,” he said, drawing a pen from his jacket pocket.
“Let’s,” I replied.
An hour later.
