Until Her - Ami Van Page 0,67
but there are always bigger sharks in the ocean and they’ve just waded into that ocean.
“Are you sure we should be here without our men?” Derrick asks.
“Yeah. I think the more of our men we keep away from Isabella and Cristian, the fewer mouths can speak about a possible changing of positions in our family,” he replies. “Besides, Elias has to be at the club while Chase makes the drop, and Mason is out with Rory. I wouldn’t want anyone else at Ro’s side for this drop. Your merce-nannies need to be home with Stella and the kids.”
“Our men are loyal,” Derrick says.
“Yeah. Shit also happens when you mix liquor and pussy,” he replies.
It’s true. Their men are loyal but it’s never guaranteed in this business. Money can change anyone because everyone has a price tag. Dangle a promotion from foot soldier to running your own crew and many would snag, loyal or not.
“Sully should be enough,” he says to the now quiet car.
They arrive at Eden soon after. The club was already at full swing when they pulled up and he watched the doorman turning customers away at the door. Some remain standing in line though as if they were guaranteed entrance.
From a business perspective, he can admit it’s a lucrative business plan. Still, Kings don’t deal people.
“This way,” one of the security guys tells them once they enter Eden.
The guy leads the way but another man stops Sully and Russell from continuing with them.
“Sorry, sir. These are sensitive and private matters. We were instructed it must be you and your brothers…err…brother only,” he corrects himself.
“Fine,” he tells the guy who looks genuinely apologetic.
He nods to Sully and Russell who both know they shouldn’t mingle and needed to be on guard.
He and Derrick continue down to the VIP area. Derrick pats the lower half of his jacket. His brother is packing heat. So is he and no one patted them down. It’s a tiny consolation because if shit is going to happen then they would have been checked and made sure they didn’t have a means of defense.
They’re led to a different room than the one they were in last time. This one is smaller and quieter too. There’s no one sitting inside and they each take a seat once they are left alone. They weren’t left alone long though.
A waitress wearing one of Eden’s goddess uniforms strolls in confidently with a tray. There are three tumblers and a decanter of dark liquid on top. She doesn’t speak nor does she make eye contact with them when she sets everything on the table then quickly makes her exit.
She reminds him of the first time he met Ariana.
Guilt sinks to the bottom of his stomach. That night had been a clusterfuck and he’d fucked the witch of all evil witches that night…in front of Ariana.
It takes ten full minutes, yes…he timed it…before Isabella strolls in with yet another painted-on dress. Again…he wishes this dress would put him out of his misery and just suffocate the bitch where she stands.
“I’m sorry for the wait,” Isabella says. “Cristian is close by. Traffic on a Saturday night can be horrendous.”
“You called this meeting and he should have been here waiting for us,” Derrick barks out to her. “We flew in and still made it on time.”
It doesn’t even phase the bitch. She shamelessly takes her seat in between him and his brother like they were sitting in the front pews of a burning church.
“Someone is a little sensitive about punctuality,” she purrs.
She begins filling the tumblers, handing one to Derrick first.
“Calm down. He’ll be here before you even finish that.”
“If he isn’t, we’re leaving,” Derrick says as he grabs the tumbler.
Isabella hands one over to him too. The moment he takes it from her hand, she settles herself right next to his side like a leech.
“We didn’t get to say good night last time,” she whispers to him. Not subtle at all.
“Comes with the territory,” he replies.
She scoffs.
“That’s what the nannies are paid to do, is it not?” she asks, pursing her lips as if she isn’t the most offensive human being in the fucking world at the moment.
“No. It’s what being a parent means,” he replies. “I get the impression that you have no idea about what that means nor do you have any aspirations to be a parent,” he deadpans.
No one said he had to mince words with her or even play nice.
“On the contrary, my King. Children are desired. Traditions