Page 40 of Hook

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and he nods. “Fair enough.”

“Where are we on the deal with the cartel? I want a new contract brokered at a better value since we’ve increased our numbers year on year.”

Smyth sighs. “They aren’t playing ball.”

“Motherfuckers. Okay, set up a meeting with their leader as soon as possible.” I run a hand across the back of my neck. “If I want something done right.” I pin him with a glare. “It appears I’ve got to do it myself.”

He looks hurt by my remark, but I don’t give a shit about his feelings. Smyth has always been too fucking touchy. “Do you want me to accompany you?”

I shake my head. “No. Arrange the meeting.”

“When for?”

“As soon as possible,” I say, turning toward the door. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Smyth doesn’t say a word as I march toward it and swing it open.

“Oh, and Smyth,” I say, glancing back at him.

“Sir?”

“Make sure you keep an eye on Tim for me. Let me know if he does anything else suspicious,” I say, wanting him to believe that I don’t suspect him. As this could be a test either way. If he tells me bullshit about Tim, I’ll know he’s covering his own tracks.

“Yes, sir, I will do.”

I nod and walk toward the bar, pouring myself a tumbler of scotch. Three of the girls I employ are standing there, watching me. “Evening,” I say to them.

They all glare at me, and I wonder if it’s because I let Kirsty go.

I take a sip of my drink and slam the glass on the counter. “Evening, Cillian, is what I expect to hear from my employees. Or do all of you want to go looking for a new fucking job?” I ask, pointing my hook in their direction.

Two of the girls panic and straighten, eyes wide when they notice the hook. “Evening, Cillian,” they say in chorus. The other girl, however, continues to glare at me.

“And what is your problem?”

“Why did you get rid of Kirsty? She was one of the best servers in this place.”

“It had nothing to do with her work ethic, but she slapped me. I won’t be assaulted by my staff.”

The girl rolls her eyes. “You insulted her first.”

My nostrils flare and I clench my fist, feeling the ache where my other hand used to be. Challenging me is a bad idea when I’m like this. It’s as if this girl has a death wish, but I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Look,” I say, in a low voice. “If you want to keep fucking breathing, you’d better stop questioning me. As by the time I’m through with you, you’ll wish I’d fired you instead.”

The girl pales, her throat bobbing as she nods. “Fine,” she mumbles under her breath.

I look at the other two girls, who both look terrified now. “Good,” I reply before turning on my heel and stalking away without another word.

My anger fades as soon as I’m out of sight of the staff members, but I remember what an important lesson this was for everybody involved: no one challenges Cillian Hook—or else they’ll be gone like Kirsty was gone in an instant, or buried six-feet under if they’re not careful the way my rage is getting the better of me lately.

And I know part of the reason why. It’s because my pretty new fiancée still belongs to Piero, which is disgusting. I need to obliterate him from her mind and heart. A feat I fear will be easier said than done, but I’m nothing if not persistent.

* * *

I marchto the dockmaster’s office, still angry from the incident with the girls at the club. He looks at me when I enter and his face pales. Most likely because I look ready to murder someone. His eyes drop to my clenched fist as if he knows he’s in trouble, but he isn’t. I’m angry at everything else going on.

“Hook,” he says, his voice shaky. “What can I do for you?” I notice the way his eyes linger on the hook, as I don’t often wear it.

I take a deep breath and unclench my hand before balling it into a fist again. “The shipments that got hit a few weeks ago,” I say in a cold voice. “I need access to all of your CCTV footage from those nights.”

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