Henrik waved them back. “It’s okay. Let him in.”
“What is it?” Christian demanded, getting up from his chair. “You don’t just barge in when I’m in a meeting.” He chastised the man, whose lips curled inward at the sight of Henrik sitting so casually at his desk.
“Henrietta.” He spat out the name of the woman upstairs. “She’s dead.” He pointed a finger at Henrik. “He killed her.”
Christian’s eyes were wild when he spun back around. His cheeks reddened as words attempted to form on his lips.
“She’s up there naked. Looks like he raped her too.” Anger shook his words.
Henrik lifted his shoulder. “Rape suggests she wasn’t willing. Which she was, even more than I was to get in her pants.”
He sighed. Obviously, his humor was lost on them.
“Henrietta was fucking McKinley. She was giving him information. That’s how your shipments were being messed with.” Henrik hadn’t cleared the kill with Christian. When he agreed to take care of the McKinley situation, he took the matter seriously. Both the original target, and the traitor had been dealt with.
Christian’s shoulders slumped, and he waved his men out of the room. “Get the car, I’ll be right out.” He ordered them when they hesitated. “Go!”
The three men filed out, and Henrik’s men shut the door, leaving them alone.
Christian helped himself to the bourbon, pouring himself a healthy glass. Henrik declined joining him. In one quick swallow, Christian downed the liquor, pulling his lips back and sucking in a long breath as it made its way down his throat.
“Henrietta was my niece.” Christian’s gaze settled on the hard wood flooring. “My sister’s only daughter.”
Henrik folded his hands on his desk. A choice was made and carried out; regret played no part in the future. A traitor was found and dealt with.
After a long pause Christian dragged his gaze up to Henrik. “Did she suffer?”
She’d been in the throes of an orgasm when he twisted his hand into her hair and yanked her head back. A simple tug was all it took for him to snap her neck.
“It was a quick end.” And better than she deserved. While he’d had his way with her, she’d spilled all of Creon’s secrets. Admitted to helping McKinley end her uncle’s reign because he’d been mean to her, wouldn’t shower her with the riches she thought she’d deserved.
Christian huffed. “She was a spoiled bitch. I’m not surprised she would sell out her family.” He put up a hand. “My sister passed away last winter, breast cancer.” He sighed. “At least she won’t have to suffer the pain of her daughter’s betrayal.”
“Henrietta has brothers.” Henrik didn’t need fallout from this, and assurances would have to be made.
“I will handle my nephews.” He agreed. Christian picked up his hat from the desk, holding it front of him. “They may want reparations,” Christian said cautiously. “Although I can’t say I disagree with your actions, you did move without consulting me.”
Always looking for another bite of the pie. Not that he was completely wrong, but Henrik didn’t owe this asshole anything.
“I’m sure my father will have something you’ll find beneficial. He’s due here tonight,” Henrik assured him. Let the old men work out payment amongst themselves. Henrik didn’t play the diplomat between the families. His father, being the majority owner of the Network, dealt with all that. Henrik was simply the muscle.
“Would you like Henrietta’s body brought-”
“Burn it.” Christian waved a hand in the air. Even as a traitor, the niece of one the most powerful men in the Network could still be given a proper burial. Her family could still mourn her. But as one of the most powerful men in the city, Christian Creon needed to send a message. Traitors are not family.
“It will be taken care of,” Henrik promised. Christian took the betrayal and death of his niece better than expected. It could be a cloud of smoke, or it could be true relief that the woman is gone.
“Thank you.” Christian inclined his head then took his leave. The door closed softly behind him, sending Henrik’s office into full silence. A sound he hadn’t enjoyed since his morning run.
It’s short lived, however. Olivier steps inside, curiosity wrinkling his brow. “So?”
“So.” Henrik claps his hands. “It’s done. Did his shipment move through yet?”
“Yeah. The women have been moved into the barracks on the east side of the property. The handlers are due to arrive in the morning. They’ll be gone by the afternoon.” Oliver assured him.
The Network was made up of over twenty different families. Some moved drugs, some cleaned cash, but they all dealt in flesh. Every family was afforded the protection of the Network, mostly provided by Henrik and his men, for a small fee paid to the owners. Jackson and his brother Haden. The men all made their millions, Henrik kept the law at bay and squashed the skirmishes between the families. It was an easy set up, and fucking hell the pay was good.
“And the girl upstairs?” Oliver asked.