Page 43 of Stolen: Dante's Vow

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He’s well dressed and the large ring on his finger bears an insignia I can’t quite make out from here. He’s as tall as me, built about the same but his face isn’t fucked up like mine. Although I have a feeling when I delve a little deeper his hands will come out as bloody.

I lean toward him when the waitress leaves. “You threw me out of a moving vehicle.”

“We slowed it down.” He smiles, scrutinizing me all along.

“It was still moving, asshole.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I saved your life.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I give you serious credit for taking Petrov out. That is no easy feat. But walking into his club afterward looking like you did, out of it like you were and dripping blood on their tacky marble floors, well, that was just stupid.”

“Fuck you. What do you want?”

“What I wanted was for the meeting between Petrov and Pérez to take place. Flush out that fuck. But I guess that’s out now.”

“What’s your relationship with Felix Pérez?”

“He has something I want.”

“And that is?”

He pauses. It’s just for a moment, but it’s all I need to see that this is it. This thing that Pérez has, that he wants, it’s his weakness.

“There was a meeting.”

“And?”

“The night of the explosion.”

Now it’s me who stops.

“Just before you and your brother started shooting up the place.”

“You were there?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know any of this?”

“Like I said, there was a meeting.”

“You’re just a fount of information, aren’t you?”

“A meeting that Pérez recorded unbeknownst to the participants.”

I lean back in my seat, fold my arms across my chest. It’s my turn to grin now. “Sounds like an important meeting. Maybe I can get a copy of the minutes.”

The waitress returns and he smiles at her, but I see how tight it is. Before he shifts his attention to me, he pours a spoonful of sugar into his coffee and stirs. I don’t touch mine.

“He has another buyer lined up, you know,” he says, clanking the silver spoon against the porcelain coffee cup.

I crack my neck. Flex my hands under the table. Another buyer for Mara? Doesn’t make sense.

He watches me intently, dark eyes zeroed in so as not to miss the tiniest tell.

“And now that Petrov’s out of the picture, he can move more freely.”

“Doesn’t add up.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“That there would be a new buyer. Considering who she is, or more accurately who she isn’t. Among other things.” Not that I believed Petrov would actually return her. He’d more likely have killed her in front of Pérez and then killed Pérez.

“I’m just sharing information I’ve vetted. It’s true.”

“Who is it?”

“That I don’t know. Whoever it is is keeping a very low profile, but he wants her specifically.”

“Why?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

I draw in a breath, study the enigma sitting across from me. “What do you want, St. James?”

“I want Pérez, like I said.”

“For the recording.”

He nods.

“What’s on it?”

He doesn’t reply but I watch how his eyes darken. Whatever it is, it’s very personal.

“Why am I here? Why make sure I walked out of Red’s last night?” I ask.

“The girl. You’ve got her well-hidden.”

I grit my jaw. Matthaeus signals for me to remain calm as I do the math.

“I need to borrow her,” the bastard continues.

“No.”

“I promise to take excellent care of her. You have my word.”

“Your word means shit to me. No.”

“He won’t be able to resist coming for her. I know the deal he’s struck is worth well over a million dollars and he’s already been paid half.”

“What part of no is confusing to you?” I push my chair back and stand. “Find your bait elsewhere.” I turn, take a step.

“What that recording shows will be just as valuable to you as it is to me, Dante.”

I pause.

“To your brother. His family.”

I glance at Matthaeus.

“You don’t want it known that your uncle was involved in, well, less than savory business.”

At that, I spin, return to the table, and slam my hands on the surface. He doesn’t even blink.

I lean in close. So close I can see that his eyes are actually different colors. One a dark blue, the other deep gray.

“I don’t give a fuck what my uncle was involved in. And you should have done your homework before you came to me if that’s all you’ve got.” I straighten.

“Oh, I did,” he says, standing. He takes a moment to button his suit jacket, but I don’t miss the shiny metal of a pistol holstered on his belt. I get the feeling he doesn’t need the soldiers standing just behind him. “I know you wouldn’t want your true parentage getting out.”

My jaw tenses.

“Or how that parentage came about.”

He looks at me straight on, eyes unblinking.

“I am not your enemy, Dante. But I do need what I need.”


Tags: Natasha Knight Romance