Pawn (The Pawn Duet #2) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,58

for you.”

She nods her head slowly looking slightly impressed. “I understand, but broken hearts are always relevant. They are the motivation behind everything we do. We cry, we eat, we breathe, we fuck, we kill. All in the name of love. So, tell me, is love the motivation behind what brought you to me today?”

If she were anyone else, I would deny or deflect, but the way she’s looking at me as though she can not only see my thoughts, but has experienced everything I have been going through, is not something I want to fuck with. Not with someone as dangerous as her and not when the stakes are so damn high.

“My family died,” I admit. “They were murdered.” I grimace because even though this has been my truth and my life for years it still feels like a knife to my gut when I hear the words spoken aloud. “The man who killed them is currently one of your buyers, and I’d like to propose an alternative to selling to him.”

“An alternative?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

I take a deep breath. “I want you to cut him out.”

She leans forward with her elbow on her knee. “Ah, now we get to the interesting part.” She waves her hand. “Go on. Tell me more.”

I lay it out for her clearly and precisely. “Darius Alban is the buyer. I propose you cut him off, and in exchange, I will bring you a new buyer, not for heroin but for MDMA. Double the quantity, almost triple the profits.”

“Ah, Darius.” She looks up at me, and for a second, I think I’ve lost her. “He used to be quite a man, but he’s since become…how you say, a misguided prick.” She picks up her glass and taps a perfectly manicured red fingernail against the rim. She twists her lips and looks to the glass before finally speaking. “I do not like that racist motherfucker as much as the next human being, but he is a large buyer and to drop him and run that risk, I would need at least four times the profit, triple the quantity.”

“Done,” I say, leaning back in my chair.

“Ahhhhh,” she says, wagging a finger at me. “You did not lead with your best offer. I knew you were a smart one. I accept. Just know that if you do not pull through on your end of the bargain, that it will not end well for you.”

“I’m aware,” I tell her. I don’t add that there’s a possibility that it won’t end well for me anyway. “And so is Pike.”

“I realize now why he wanted to send you. He knew we would get along. Good,” she says, slapping her hands on her knees.

“Wait, he wanted to send me? I thought he said you wouldn’t see him because he isn’t a member of the Reich. Because you two have no business together.”

“All of that is true, except I’m always accepting new proposals. I, too, was surprised when he said he was sending his woman instead, but I understood when he told me that this is personal for you and that you needed to handle this on your own. I like that in a woman. Take charge of your own destiny. Handle your own shit. You are much like me in that way.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Now that the business is all done, tell me, before the wild wolves posing as my children barge in again, what, exactly, did Darius do to you for you to want to ruin him? Tell me the entire story. This, I will not negotiate.”

“It’s not—”

She holds up a hand. “Do not say that it is not relevant, because it is,” she says. “Also, I like to know the reasons for why I’m crushing a man. It…” She wrinkles her nose. “How do you say…increases the pleasure.”

I pick up my glass, take a swig, and because I have nothing to lose, I talk. But I don’t just talk. I tell her everything.

Every. Fucking. Thing.

My family. Pike. Darius. Percy. My sister.

All of it.

“That sounds like Darius,” she says, tapping her finger against her glass. “Although, when I first met him, he went by another name. He was another man completely. He didn’t have this hate rotting in his gut. He was a businessman, like any other. He used The Reich as an excuse to form an army. A shadow over the real business at hand.”

My heart thrums hard and fast within my