RICKY

Typically, news of a bruised wrist isn’t enough to have me grabbing heat and storming into my uncle’s office, but it was tonight. I’ve got no clue who showed up at Blue’s job earlier, throwing around threats and shit, but I sure as hell intend to find out.

As Paul stares me down from across his desk, I don’t think I’ve ever trusted him less.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, nephew?”

“I need to know about the cargo.”

He eyes me, smirking and shit. “That so? Because when I came to you with this offer several months ago, you wanted nothing to do with it. Why the sudden change of heart?”

I shrug but give nothing away. “I wasn’t interested then, but I am now.”

He doesn’t speak right away, just gives me the same look Pop used to when he thought I was up to something.

“Okay, I’m intrigued. Are you interested in upping your game? Or just sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? Because if you want in, that can be arranged, but you must understand there’s a process.”

“What kind of process?”

His eyes flash toward the ceiling while searching for the right words.

“Consider it a period of being vetted, if you will—proving yourself to me, my colleagues. What you’re talking about is big boy stuff,” he adds with a laugh.

I hold his gaze. “Fine. Tell me what I have to do.”

He has no clue getting deeper involved with whatever he’s dragged our family into is the last fucking thing I want. But if it’ll get him to tell me more—like where these girls are kept, or how the business is run—I’ll string him along. All I know is Vin’s gotta be stopped. I’ve never snitched in my entire life, but if feeding Roby intel is the only way to protect Blue and Scar, guess that’s what I’ll have to do.

“You’re amusing. You know that?”

He smiles after asking, but I can’t read him.

“There’s no way in hell I’d let you get your hands in this part of the business. The company you’ve kept lately makes you a liability. Why do you think I pressed to get you back home when you went to rescue that Riley girl after that video leaked?” he asks. “Because people were talking about you playing the role of Captain Save-A-Hoe while your ass should’ve been working. You made yourself look weak, like you’d put pussy before business.”

He laughs again and if he weren’t my damn uncle, I’d punch him right in his shit.

“Face it, Ricky, you’ve gotten distracted. Big time,” he adds. “And I’m not the only one who sees it.”

My jaw’s tense, but I’m focused. It’s time for a change of plans.

“Okay, since we’re talking candid, why don’t we talk about you becoming Vin’s bitch.” When that dumb-ass smirk is wiped off his face, I’m smiling myself now. “Yeah, and after doing a little research, imagine my surprise when I discovered that motherfucker’s family.”

Well, look at that. I must’ve struck a nerve, because his ass is getting real uncomfortable over there in that chair.

“I also know he got you mixed up in this trafficking shit, which we weren’t fucking with before his ass started coming around. We kept shit simple. I’m not saying we were saints, but we sure as hell had limits. And kidnapping a bunch of damn kids to sell to whatever twisted asshole has a few thousand to spare was definitely one of those limits,” I snap.

“Careful,” he warns calmly.

Fuck being careful!” I snap. “All this bullshit with the O’Farrells, the beef with the Navarros… it’s not us. We keep our heads down and we make money. That’s it. At least that’s how it used to be. But now, Vin’s got us making enemies faster than we can learn their damn names.”

Glaring, Paul leans forward. “I understand what you think you know, but we’ve always been about making money, Ricky. Whatever industry is hot, whatever’s gonna line our pockets, that’s the family business,” he adds sternly, slamming his fist on the desk.

“And what about Hunter? I’m supposed to believe Vin didn’t have something to do with that? It’s just funny how one second I’m seeing him in meetings with the two of you, then the next he’s locked up. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m having a hard time believing it’s all a coincidence.”

As expected, he doesn’t have shit to say.

“Who really killed Robyn? Was it Vin?” I ask, keeping my stare trained on him when adding, “Or was it you?”

It seems like he can’t stomach looking at me anymore, so he stands and takes slow steps toward the window, looking down on the city instead.

“I’ve had enough. Get the hell out of my office.”

He pretends to be calm, but I know better. He hates being challenged, hates being questioned on things, but I’m at the point of no longer giving a shit. I won’t get anything else out of him tonight, so I stand and start coming up with my own plan. One that doesn’t include him.

“Wait.”

When I turn to see why he’s called out to me, his gaze is still focused on the ebb and flow of traffic on the streets several floors below.

“You’re family, Ricky, and you’ve been like a son to me. However, it’d be wise for you to remember that being family protects you, but it doesn’t make you invincible.”

I hear his warning and know it’s true, but putting “work” before everything else is the reason I’ve lost more than I’ve gained. So, the decision’s been made. If Paul won’t talk, it’s time to let Rich Boy know we’re on for plan B.

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