Page 17 of The Fighter

I didn’t like the way he took me in, starting from the top of my head down to my feet. His gaze was almost greedy. Predatory. He wasn’t the wild young man who’d tried to kiss me all those years ago, convinced his crush was returned. No, this was someone else, a Devlin I didn’t know.

He stopped at my side and held my gaze. He stood a few inches shorter than me, and his cologne smelled expensive. His chest heaved once before he smiled at me. “Conrad.”

There was some of the old Devlin in his smile, the one that had always been so eager to please, who loved praise. And then I’d twisted it and broke him, and now he was who he was.

“Devlin,” I answered and gestured to the booth seat across from me.

He slid in smoothly and clasped his hands on top of the table. His full wine glass sat untouched. I took a sip of my water, needing the hit of cool liquid.

Focus, Nik had said. Yeah, yeah. I could handle this.

“Are you hungry?” I asked as I pushed a menu toward him. “Their oysters are good here.”

He didn’t look at the menu. His gaze never strayed from my face. “I’m not hungry.”

I leaned back in the plush booth and rested my hands on the table. “All right.”

It had been difficult to get this meeting with Devlin. It wasn’t like I had his phone number. Or that he’d respond if I did. It’d taken weeks and weeks of just being able to get word to one of his officers, and then more time until Devlin agreed on a date, time, and location.

“How’ve you been?” Devlin asked. His hands remained clasped on the table, fingers intertwined.

“We’re not here to talk about me.”

“Well that’s what I want to talk about before you say whatever it is you want to say to me.” For the first time, his gaze dropped to my hands before shifting back to my face. “Are you married?”

I tried to hide my shock. That wasn’t a question I expected. “No.”

The green of his eyes glowed in the candlelight with a manic edge that grated over my nerves. “Come back to me.”

No,no waywas he still carrying a torch for me. “Devlin?—”

“We’d rule this city, you and me?—”

“You know I can’t?—”

He was nearly panting. “It’d be so good?—”

I gritted my teeth. “I was never yours to begin with.”

He jerked in his seat, a real reaction that made me question how he operated his criminal enterprise when he couldn’t hide his emotions. He heaved a breath, and his eyes shuttered. His whole demeanor changed as he leaned back in his seat and unclasped his hands. One dropped to his lap while the other drummed the tabletop. His lip curled. His gaze no longer held mine. In fact, he looked anywhere but me as a disinterested mask slipped over his face. He’d always been volatile. I had hoped age had tamed him a bit. Clearly I was wrong. He had always been, however, a great actor. That hadn’t changed either. It was a tossup whether he wanted me back or just wanted to toy with me. Either way, he had succeeded already in putting me on my back foot. That was always the way it was with Devlin. The drumming of his fingers stopped before he spoke. “What’s the purpose for this meeting? You have ten minutes.”

“I’ll have enough time as it takes.”

His jaw worked as he stared at the window. “Nine minutes.”

I resisted rolling my eyes. “I’d like to offer you an opportunity.”

His eyes glinted with a slight bit of eagerness that he tried to hide. And maybe he could with others who didn’t know him well. Not like I did.

I just barely stopped myself from fidgeting with my wine glass. I had to appear confident and in control. “Position in my company. COO. You’d oversee employees, company strategies, and be a partner of mine.”

Devlin’s face was blank now. He had himself under control. He stared at me for a long moment before he said slowly and carefully, “I have a job already, Conrad.”

“You’re expanding too big and too fast.” Here was the part where I had to tread a fine line. Devlin never took well to criticism. “You still rule your empire, but you have too many people under you who aren’t as smart. They’re going to cost you, Devlin.” I made sure to say his name to make this as personal as possible. “This is the beginning of the end. You’re on the precipice of the fall of Rome, and the Germanic tribes are already nipping at your borders. It’s only a matter of time before they begin taking whole territories and fracturing what you’ve built.”

His fingers had begun drumming again as I spoke, and there was something about the quivering of his nostrils that sent alarm bells ringing in my head. “Is this a history lesson or is this?—”

“I’m talking about Soto.”