“Is that all?”
“Here’s what I don’t understand. “You’re famous, rich and you get laid a lot. What the fuck is wrong with you? What’s enough?”
“Back off, freak. I could sue you for harassment.”
“Yeah, I’ll back off,” he says coldly. “If you leave that poor girl alone.”
Fuck him and his indirect threats. I know what he’s trying to do. He wants to get in my face so I do something stupid and get tossed back in jail.
Elaine waves me over. I take the opportunity to leave Esposito behind.
“You could give me some time to shower,” I tell her as she ushers me to her car.
“You look stunning as always, Jaxson, and this can’t wait,” she says with a smile so fake it would break a lie detector.
“Elaine, just stop. One more mention of how I look and I’ll snap. I’ve been locked up for forty-eight hours. I’ve barely slept and I have no idea what’s happening.”
“You have made good use of your looks so far,” she says, her eyes turning hostile. “You can’t just turn the switch off every time it suits you.”
“And why is that? Why have I relied on my looks for so long? It was the fastest way to get away from all the shit you’re trying to drag me back to.”
“And yet, here you are. You didn’t have to get in my car, Jax. I could hardly make you do anything you didn’t want to do.”
I swear, I could strangle the bitch. We both know it’s not her pulling my strings. She’s a messenger, nothing more than a lackey to my uncle.
“You messed up,” she goes on. “Put the blame where it belongs.”
The HQ building looms in the distance as we turn onto a narrow private street. I haven’t set foot on these grounds for months but nothing has changed. It’s so quiet it’s eerie. The lion fountains, the tall pine trees, the gloomy entrance with the angry gargoyles are all right where I left them.
We enter the reception area after Elaine punches in the door code. The only things that have changed are the numbers in the code.
Two security men in impeccable black suits show up to escort me to the main briefing room that features a wall of mirrors behind which my uncle can watch everything when he’s so inclined.
The room is empty, heavy blinds drawn down on all windows. I have hated this place since I was a child and my mother first brought me in to meet her brother, Uncle Lucius Bernard. As much as she tried, she could not make this mausoleum appealing to a child.
Jazz music—Uncle’s favorite—starts lazily playing as I take a seat at the long table. A screen pops up at the head where my uncle would normally sit.
Great. Lucius will be talking to me through some secure feed like we’re in a spy movie. That’s a new one. Uncle Lucius is finally catching up with technology, or maybe technology is catching up with him.
“I’m glad you’re a free man, Jack,” he says smiling. His hairline has retreated a bit more since the last time I saw him but other than that, he looks the same: dark hair, robust shoulders under an expensive brown cashmere jacket and a weak jaw that has always bothered him.
“Am I?” I say, void of emotion.
“Your legal problems have been taken care of.”
“By the same hand that created them.”
He lifts his head, his little eyes narrowing down to a slit. “Jack, you disappoint me, son. Is that what you think of me?”
Christ, I hate it when he acts all holy and innocent. He’s never innocent. Even when he’s not guilty, he’s not innocent.
“I’m not a fool, Uncle. We both know what your capabilities are.”
His expression turns severe. “This is no time for petulance. I’d never frame my sister’s only child. Everything I have done was necessity. Always. Don’t play dumb. You can’t make an omelet without breaking some shells.”
“Except you break people.”
“Would you like to be sitting in this chair? Do you think there are any easy decisions? How long would you last in my position?”
“That’s never happening so the point is moot.” I honestly don’t know exactly what he does. I’ve only ever been afforded glimpses. He runs an underworld organization that trades in exports and imports, dealing in nefarious commodities including secrets. The kind of stuff that goes boom in the night and topples both criminal and real empires.
The irony is I’m supposed to be his only heir.
On the screen, my uncle glances back over his shoulder at something or someone I cannot see. “It’s easy to talk with such insolence when you have nothing to lose,” he says, returning his attention to me.