“All right,” he says. “Roscoe, come with us.”
The dark-haired man who accompanied me over lifts a dark eyebrow. “Seriously? You want Roscoe in there with you over me?”
Donovan smiles, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Settle down, Sebastian’s a friend. Aren’t you, Sebastian?”
He must be seriously hurting for friends if he thinks I’m one of his, but naturally, I nod my head. Sure, I’ll be the fucker’s friend for the next fifteen minutes.
We walk past the private rooms lining the hall. I hear loud moans coming from inside a few of them, but I don’t bat an eye. This isn’t even a strip club so you wouldn’t expect sleazy shit like this to be going on, but there’s been plenty of speculation about his prostitution ring. That’s probably what’s going on in there.
“How’s your wife, Sebastian?”
I tense just hearing him mention my wife, even if he doesn’t know her name or what she looks like. I might not be opposed to the potential benefits of having an amiable relationship with him over a hostile one, but I still know he’s a shady fucking snake, and I don’t like him even thinking of Moira in a vague, conceptual way.
“The family’s fine,” I say, vaguely.
He opens an office door and steps inside first. I follow, and Roscoe comes in and closes the door behind me.
Donovan stops immediately and turns to face me. Doesn’t offer me a seat, but I’m glad; I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. “Now, what’s so urgent we needed to speak in private?”
“I have a bit of a situation,” I tell him.
“You’re paid through the end of the month, so I don’t think we have any business right now.”
“Yeah, well, I’m paying you for your protection, right?” I ask, nodding at him. “I’m in need of a little… protection.”
He cocks his head curiously. “You are? Who’s bothering you?”
“It’s not—” I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “It’s not a business matter. It’s personal. Someone’s causing me problems. I’ve tried to handle it through more conventional channels, but she won’t go away and she’s making my life harder than I want it to be.”
With a knowing nod, he said, “I understand. Mistress?”
I frown. “No. It’s Griff’s wife, actually.”
His eyebrows rise. “You’re fucking your partner’s wife? Damn, that is a tangled fucking web.”
I want to smile at how backward he has all this, but the less I tell him about my home life, the better. “No, I’m not fucking her. Griff is trying to divorce her but she’s making it difficult. The long and short of it is, she’s a real headache and at this point we both just want her gone. Dealt with. Permanently.”
“I see.” His tone is solemn, but he doesn’t seem unwilling to help. “You understand, of course, that a situation like this is not included in the protection I provide you?”
“Of course. I’ll pay separately for this.”
“All cash, all up front,” he adds. “Once the deal is made, there’s no backing out. You get cold feet, you don’t get a refund.”
“I understand all that. I’m not half-cocked, here. This is what needs to happen. I’ve made my peace with it, now I just want it done and over with.”
Nodding once, he asks, “How soon do you need it done?”
“As soon as possible. I need it to look like an accident, though. Or a suicide. Just nothing obvious. Since she’s been dragging out the divorce, Griff is the first person they’re going to look to as a suspect if anything looks off.”
“Of course,” he says, like he’s a professional and he understands. “I’ll let you know when it’s going down so you can make sure you both have alibis. Just in case you were fucking her, you’ll want your ass covered, too.”
“I wasn’t fucking her.”
“Look, a man shows up wanting a woman dead, ten out of ten times he was fucking her. I’m not your wife; you don’t have to lie to me, Sebastian.”
“I’m not…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I never fucked her. She’s causing Griff problems, so that’s a problem for me. I’m just a hell of a friend, all right?”
He watches me for a moment, debating whether or not to believe me. I don’t know why it matters so much to him, but it seems like he doesn’t like being lied to. I bet he’s a paranoid motherfucker.