Page 2 of The Castle (Endgame 3)
With his daughter? That would take more work.
I sit down on the white side, making myself comfortable.
“I’ve been looking over the records,” I say because we’ve done enough pretending. Enough gold. Enough diamonds. “My father’s records. A lot of it’s missing. A lot of blank pages.”
He looks relieved, so I set the pawn on the board—not in its starting position. I set it down two spaces forward. An opening move. He needs to understand that we’re playing.
And that I play to win.
He meets my gaze, his dark eyes wary. “Much of our negotiations were verbal, you understand. Agreements between gentlemen.”
I once saw my father piss on a prostitute’s back because she had cried too much when a customer whipped her. Gentleman? Hardly. “Although, the numbers I do have don’t add up.”
“Well, like I said. Verbal agreements. I can’t control what your father wrote down. Can’t control what kind of records he kept. But I can assure you that our dealings were always the utmost aboveboard.” He’s talking too fast, nervous and revealing.
“You traded on flesh and weapons,” I say, unable to hold back the venom in my voice.
Not because I’m above them. No, I’m taking over the family business like a good son, the monster my father raised me to be. But I won’t pretend to be something else, won’t smile as a photographer from the society section flashes his camera.
His expression hardens. This is the face of a man that buys and sells a girl his daughter’s age without remorse. “Whatever your father told you, I never cheated him. We were even at the time of his… disappearance.”
“Interesting that you think he told me anything about you. At the time of his disappearance, as you put it, he had more pressing matters to consider.” Like my knife at his throat, my knee on his back.
I’ve committed many sins in my life, but his was the first life I took. It saved the life of a woman, but I can’t claim any noble purpose. His death was long deserved. And extremely profitable for me. I’ve spent the past two weeks taking over every arm of his business.
James sputters, heat rising to his ruddy cheeks. “This is a rough business. I’m sure you know that. No matter how much I want to give the benefit of the doubt, I have to protect my interests.”
“I’ve found it’s the dishonest who are most paranoid about other people lying.”
He stands abruptly. “How dare you accuse me of stealing from your father.”
I follow more leisurely, standing and straightening my suit jacket. The truth is, the penguin suit is growing on me. As is the velvet brandy on my tongue. As is the pretty girl I saw outside. All the money in the world doesn’t matter if you don’t have anything to buy. Cars. Drugs. Women. None of it interests me, but suddenly I know exactly what I want—everything he has.
“Stealing?” I say, tasting the word. “I didn’t say anything about stealing. Is that what you did?”
James takes a step forward, apparently trying to be menacing. His physical body doesn’t offer any threat to me. I managed angry customers twice as strong when I was half as old. “Look here,” he says, almost snarling. “How dare you come into my house, throwing around accusations. That’s not the way business is done, and if you want to challenge me, go right ahead. You’ll find I have a lot of friends in this city.”
“Friends can be bought, the same way you acquired them.”
“You don’t know anything about me, boy.”
Boy. It’s meant as an insult, but it amuses me. It’s been a long time since I felt young or innocent. Actually I’ve never felt that way. Thirty years is long enough to see every form of depravity in this city, most more than once.
“Relax, old man. I have no issue with you or whatever deals you made with my father. You have a clean slate with me.”
Relief wars with anger on his puffy face. He wants to stay pissed at me for my insinuations, for the old man comment. But he owes too much money to my father not to take the gift.
“Of course,” he finally manages. “Naturally that’s the state of things. Good to hear you agree. Then we can complete the final shipment as planned.”
I give him a hard smile. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
And I won’t accept any underhanded bullshit. That’s the point of this little visit.
Except I can see by the glimmer of greed in his eyes that he doesn’t accept the warning. Christ. It’s a miracle he’s stayed alive this long. Paying off the right people can do wonders. That’s the lesson I’m taking away from this.
I should steer clear of him. After this last deal, no more. No more opportunities for him to steal. Except for the girl with her pink dress and bright smile. She’s a fucking goddess, all of Tanglewood society at her feet. So pure and shining. I want to drag her into my lair, to fuck her so hard she begs for mercy. I want to make her cry. All the people here celebrate her bright future. I want that for her, too. As long as I can drag her back into the dark every night.
