Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11) - J.R. Ward Page 0,43

fault his supplier for being suspicious and wanting more information on his single largest customer. After all, in the shortest of time, the drug trade in the city had been rerouted, redefined, and captured by a complete unknown.

One could respect the man’s position.

But the digging was going to end here.

At the top of the set of industrial stairs, two other big men stood in front of another door, sure and solid as load-bearing walls. As with the guard on the first floor, they opened things up fast, and nodded at him with respect.

On the far side, Benloise was sitting at the end of a long, narrow room that had windows down one side, and only three pieces of furniture: his raised desk, which was nothing but a thick slab of teak with a modernist lamp and an ashtray on it; his chair, of some modern derivation; and a second seat across from him for a single visitor.

The man himself was like his environment: neat, officious, and uncluttered in his thinking. In fact, he proved that however illicit the drug trade was, the management principles and interpersonal skill sets of a CEO went a long way if you wanted to make millions in it—and keep your money.

“Assail. How are you?” The diminutive gentleman rose and put out his hand. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

Assail went across, shook what was extended and did not wait for an invitation to sit down.

“What may I do for you?” Benloise said as he himself resettled on his chair.

Assail took a Cuban cigar from out of his inside pocket. Snipping the end off, he leaned forward and put the snubbed piece right on the desk.

As Benloise frowned like someone had defecated on his bed, Assail smiled just short of flashing his fangs. “It’s what I may do for you.”

“Oh.”

“I have always been a private man, living a private life by choice.” He put away his clipper and took out his gold lighter. Popping the flame, he leaned in and puffed to get the cigar into a sustainable burn. “But above and beyond that, I am a businessman engaging in a dangerous manner of trade. Accordingly, I take any trespass of my property or intrusion upon my anonymity as a direct act of aggression.”

Benloise smiled smoothly and eased back in his throne-like chair. “I can respect that, of course, and yet I am confounded as to why you feel the need to point this out to me.”

“You and I have entered into a mutually beneficial relationship, and it is very much my desire to continue this association.” Assail puffed on the cigar, releasing a cloud of French-blue smoke. “Therefore, I want to pay you the respect you are due, and make clear before I take action that if I discover any person upon my premises whom I have not invited thereupon, I shall not only eradicate them, I shall find the source of inquiry”—he puffed again—“and do what I must to defend my privacy. Am I being clear enough?”

Benloise’s brows dropped down low, his dark eyes growing shrewd.

“Am I?” Assail murmured.

There was, of course, only one answer. Assuming the human wanted to live much past the following weekend.

“You know, you remind me of your predecessor,” Benloise said in his accented English. “Did you meet the Reverend?”

“We ran in some of the same circles, yes.”

“He was killed rather violently. About a year ago now? His club was blown up.”

“Accidents happen.”

“Usually in the home, so I’ve heard.”

“Something you might keep in mind.”

As Assail met those eyes straight on, Benloise dropped his stare first. Clearing his throat, the Eastern seaboard’s biggest drug importer and wholesaler swept his palm over his glossy desk, as if he were feeling the grains that ran through the teak.

“Our business,” Benloise said, “has a delicate ecosystem that, for all its financial robustness, must be carefully maintained. Stability is rare and highly desirable for men like you and me.”

“Agreed. And to that end, I plan to return at the conclusion of the evening with my interim payment, as scheduled. As I always have, I come to you in good faith, and give you no reason to doubt me or my intentions.”

Benloise offered another smooth smile. “You make it sound as if I am behind,” he moved his hand around, waving it dismissively through the air, “whatever has upset you.”

Leaning in, Assail dipped his chin and glared. “I am not upset. Yet.”

One of Benloise’s hands surreptiously dipped out of sight. A split second later, Assail heard the