33. Dirty Work

Dom

Dad didn’t get his hands dirty much. Not anymore.

Uncle Anton, however, took it in his stride. He sat on one of the chairs in the corner of my office with his trainered feet up. He hardly ever wore a suit, claiming blood was a bitch to get out. He lived in designer athleisure.

Pompous prick.

He scowled as the sad, pathetic man I’d spent the last hour getting to know spat his blood on the wood floor, narrowly missing my feet. That was when I realised he still had teeth. Fucker shouldn’t still have teeth.

“Come on now, Datu,” Anton sighed. “Who were the women intended for?”

Fucker should be without his cock for what he did.

Actually—

“Sex! Intend for sex!”

Anton heaved a sigh as I tightened my grip on the knife. My gun was on the desk, silencer attached and ready to go.

“We don’t do the skin trade,” Anton said, leaning over. “Unwilling women sold a dream. So tell me who did. Who told you to bring them to our ports in Darley?”

“Criminals!” he shouted and moved his head as much as he could to jerk it in our direction.

I chuckled. “You’re one to fucking talk.”

At four am, Anton had knocked on my door and drove me to a safe house we had in Osburn to keep the trafficked women. We knew who was behind it but had only been able to track down Datu a couple of hours ago.

I didn’t see the women’s faces. I only saw Leonie’s. He would have used her in the exact same way. He didn’t care for them, only used them until they could be used no more.

“Who. Not what,” Anton said dryly. “Who. Where.”

“Casino. Gamble. Yu-Yun.”

“Yun?” I asked, holding the knife up to his throat. “The Yuns?”

Sam Fucking Shitfuck Yun.

“Hotel,” Datu cried, eyes held tight. “Old, tall hotel.”

Some things had to change when Luís died. The hotels he owned along the coast had fallen into hard financial times and, with Leonie’s blessing, had been sold.

I glared at Anton. “We sold Tillo Tower to the Yuns?”

He shrugged. “Must have. Thought they were better than this, though?”

Even thinking of Sam Yun had my jaw stiff. In his defence, it was unlikely he knew anything about their business deals. His only interest seemed to be spending the profits and showing it off on social media.

He’d never posted Leonie.

Being at home, there were few things I could do without thinking of her. After my workout, my stomach cried out for a strawberry and banana smoothie each morning. Ghost’s eyes were the same twinkling shade as hers, his coat the same colour as her duvet. I stared at the wardrobe she’d hidden in, chucked the shoes she’d put her cute little feet into under the bed and… fuck, I couldn’t even put on a white trainer sock without thinking of her.

I’d cleansed the house of all Mia tokens the hour after she’d finally left. A photo here or there, some cringe quote from the bathroom. Her beauty products, a tiny fridge in our room that wasn’t full of snacks but beauty products. I either binned it or put it in a pile to give to Issy, who would, in turn, give it to Mia.

So why was it so hard to get rid of Leonie after two hours of her being in my house?

It was one weekend.

But now that I’d been with her — I was going to keep her. I couldn’t go through that loss again.

She thought our main issue was my parents and Issy. My sister would no doubt cause a problem and despise us both for a couple of months. We’d only just become friends again ourselves but she would get over it. She wouldn’t have a choice.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t concerned for Leonie in that time. They’d been best friends since they could crawl to each other’s side and losing her even for a short amount of time would be awful for her. She’d already lost too much at my hands.

But, when it came to us long term, our real concern was trust.

She had every reason not to trust me.

I was capable of being with her and not telling her what happened. I could do that. It wasn’t right, but being without her was wrong.

My phone buzzed on the desk as I went to reach for the gun, but when I saw the time, I stopped. I had a date to ruin.

“I’ve got to go,” I said and, typing out a text and smearing blood across the screen, shot Datu clean in the head.

We’d got what we needed from him.

“Of course, leave me with the dirty work,” Anton groaned, not getting up from his chair but looking down at the body thoughtfully.

I only smirked as I raised my brows at his attire. “You’re dressed for heavy lifting.”

I closed the office door quickly behind me, but it was only seconds before Chris, my right-hand man, was at my side, walking with me. He pulled out a handkerchief and tossed it my way.

“Blood,” he said simply.

I wiped at the marks. Out amongst the desks of my security company was a different world compared to the four walls of my office.

“I’ll ensure Anton disposes of the problem appropriately,” he assured me.