40. Valentina

Chapter 40

Valentina

“ H ave I mentioned yet how you seduced me?” he says, practically snarling it at me as we park his BMW.

“Several times, yes.”

“Julien pointed a fucking gun in my face.” He glares straight ahead. “You got my dick hard, which left less blood for my brain to form rational opinions.”

“You weren’t complaining about it at the time, you know.”

“You’re a seductress.” He turns his annoyed stare on the restaurant we’re parked across from. “This is such a bad idea. You know that, right? He fucked with us just because he could.”

“It’s a good idea, Ronan. You just have to give it a chance.”

“Why him, though?” Ronan’s face screws up. “He tried to hurt you. He’s a damn snake.”

“Because there’s nobody else.” I push the door open and get out. Cafe du Monde is a little French bistro in a nice neighborhood near the waterfront. It’s early in the day, a little past one, and the place isn’t technically open for another few hours.

“Julien is a slimy fucking prick,” Ronan grumbles as we walk across the street. “You tricked me. You fucked me, made me come, got me hard again, and tricked me.”

“If I remember right, you’re the one that fucked me and got me off. And again, you weren’t complaining.”

“Well, now I’m complaining.”

“Get over it.” I punch him lightly in the arm.

Ronan grunts in response and glares at the door. I know he doesn’t want to do this, but Julien’s the only person that might actually help, given the strange situation we find ourselves in.

Julien doesn’t have a problem with Ronan, not really at least. He has a problem with me, or at least he thinks I’m the one that betrayed them to the Biancos. But that never made sense, and he has to realize that by now.

I follow Ronan inside. The interior is nice and upscale with a long rustic bar on the left and intimate tables throughout the middle. A bartender’s clearing glasses and a waitress is folding napkins and wrapping silverware while a TV plays a reality show. We hesitate at the entrance, but the bartender nods toward the back, and Ronan continues through.

“Did you maybe consider that this is a trap?” he mutters to me.

“Yes, obviously, but I don’t think it is.”

“Why’s that?”

“Julien’s a businessman first and foremost. This revenge thing isn’t really his style. Plus, he could’ve killed you the last time you two saw each other, but he didn’t. I don’t think he really wants you dead.”

Ronan doesn’t look convinced, but there’s no more time to argue. Julien’s sitting at a corner table right next to the door for the kitchen. He’s looking at his phone, slumped down in the booth, and glances up as we approach.

“Wonderful, you showed up,” he says and sits up straighter. “I was convinced your whole offer was just a joke. Considering how we did not part on the best of terms.”

“Not a joke at all.” Ronan remains standing and scans the empty restaurant. He glares at the door to the kitchen. “Got anyone in there?”

Julien sighs and waves a hand. “Go on, look inside. The cooks are doing prep, okay? No guns.”

“Knives can kill too.” But Ronan checks the back and seems satisfied after a second of looking around.

“Good to see you, Julien,” I say, taking a chair across from him. Ronan sits by my side, looking stiff and annoyed.

“You as well, Val. I’d say sorry about all the trouble, but—” He shrugs and waves a hand in the air. “I’m still not really convinced you had nothing to do with Marco’s betrayal.”

“And yet I’m sitting here and telling you that she didn’t.” Ronan leans forward, practically snarling at Julien, who just rolls his eyes. “What was that shit with Matteo, you asshole?”

“Business, that is all. It worked out, didn’t it? Nobody got hurt.”

“Worked out for you.”

“God, you’re so dramatic. Okay, fine, we’re here at a table together.” Julien waves a hand at the bartender. “At least have some decent wine. I promise, there’s no poison.”

Ronan reluctantly accepts and we all drink a toast to better days. “I’m assuming you know about our trouble,” I say once we’ve all had a taste. The wine really is good—oaky and smooth.

“There are rumors, but I didn’t know how much to believe.” He gives Ronan a knowing smile. “Did one of your men really steal all your goods, Ronan?”

“Cormac,” Ronan says, and I thought he’d look pissed, but instead it’s like he’s still in mourning.

“Damn. Incredible. What a snake.” Julien lightly rolls his wine glass. “Although, of course, I am not remotely surprised. I assume that’s why you’re here then. You need my help.”

“We’re here to cut a deal, not to beg for handouts. I still haven’t forgiven you for threatening to kill Valentina and for that shit with Matteo.”

I nudge him with my elbow. “Get over it, you idiot.”

Ronan glares at me and glares at Julien. “You’re lucky she’s got a cooler head than I do.”

“Yes, of course, I’m so very lucky. All right, Val, what’s your offer then?”

I lean forward. “I’ll make it easy on you. If you help us retrieve Ronan’s shipment, we’ll let you keep twenty percent of whatever we recover. After that, we’ll come to favorable terms for future wholesales. We both know you’ve been wanting to get a piece of Ronan’s business for a long time.”

Julien’s practically salivating. I knew he’d like this. His gang imports good heroin from former French colonies, but that’s only one specific market. If he can sell good, high-quality cocaine alongside his heroin, that’d be like doubling his business overnight. And a one-time shipment wouldn’t do it—we have to tempt him with a good, long-term deal, something better, more stable, and infinitely safer than he could get with the cartels.

“I’m interested,” Julien says, doing his best to keep a straight face. “You both know my business. I’d be happy to enter into your market. That would be like vertical integration or synergy or whatever buzz words fancy marketing boys with worthless college degrees like to say.”

“Promise some of your strength and we’ll cut the deal here and now.” I smile at him sweetly.

But Ronan breaks in. “And apologize to Val. Also, I want to know who in my organization talked about the Matteo job.”

“Come on, Ronan, can’t you move past that?” I ask, getting exasperated.

“No.” Ronan crosses his arms. “Apologize. And tell me who the rat was.”

Julien raises his glass. “Valentina, darling, I am most sorry for assuming you were a part of Marco’s betrayal. Also, it was Cormac.”

“Apology accepted,” I say.

“Fucking Cormac,” Ronan says, glaring down at the table. “Of course it was him. Sold us out just to make me look worse.”

“Yes, now, let us move on.” Julien lowers his glass. I’m starting to feel a little itchy—this is going too well. I knew Julien would be tempted by the business deal, but he’s very quick to forgive me and seems way too ready to forget all about it. I sense there’s something else going on here, and I don’t like it.

I look at Ronan, and I bet he’s thinking the same thing. I hope he swept the kitchen well enough.

“Are you ready to shake on our terms?” Ronan asks. He’s sitting forward, one hand close to the edge of the table, like he’s prepared to reach down and draw the gun he’s got tucked into a concealed holster.

“Actually, I have a request.” Julien reaches for his cigarette pack, takes one out, and holds it. He frowns and breaks it in half with a curse. “Fuck, this is hard. Either of you ever smoke?”

“No,” Ronan says. “Never been my thing.”

“When I was young.” I say and shrug at Ronan’s look. “What? I looked cool when I was smoking and I was also very dumb. But it was just casual.”

“Well, it is an enormous pain in my ass.” Julien throws the pack down. “Okay, this is what I want.” He looks at Ronan, his expression hard, almost pained. “I want an alliance with your family. A very close alliance. I need a wife, Ronan, and I would like you to arrange for me to marry a nice Hayes girl.”

I sit back, totally stunned. Ronan opens his mouth in outrage and horror, but nothing comes out. Julien seems equally disgusted by the situation and throws back his wine, drinking half of it down.

“That’s insane,” Ronan finally says. “You need a wife? You want to marry one of my cousins? I can’t just?—”

“You’re the boss,” Julien says. “This is something that happens all the time. Tell me you couldn’t find a suitable match.”

“Even if I could, I don’t want to. I mean, Julien, no offense, but you’re not the marriage type.”

Julien’s eyebrows raise. “You aren’t either, and yet look at you two.” He gestures between us.

My cheeks turn pink. “We’re not married. I mean, we’re not?—”

“Valentina and I found each other,” Ronan says, cutting in, and I stare at him as he says it. A thrill runs through me, excitement swelling into my core. He’s not denying Julien’s implications—if anything, he’s owning it, and I like that, I like it a whole lot. “You’re talking about some random, probably unwilling Irish girl. Why the fuck would you want that?”

“My reasons are my own.” Julien crosses his arms, eyes narrowed. “Do you have another option, Ronan? Do you know anyone else in this city that would help you right now? You’re fucking lucky you have things I need.”

“Fuck that. I’ve already made a mess of my family. I’m not selling anyone to you.”

Julien’s expression softens. “I’ll treat her well. Hell, it will be entirely for show. Tell her… tell her it can be short-term. Tell her I’ll pay. I don’t know, and I don’t care. Tell her whatever you want, just please, Ronan. I need a wife.”

Well shit. I shake my head and have no idea what to say. I can tell Ronan’s struggling with the idea too. It seems absolutely insane on the face of it, but Julien’s completely earnest right now and I can tell he’s deeply embarrassed by this whole negotiation, which makes it feel that much more real.

I don’t know why he’d need a wife so bad. I can make some guesses, but really, I don’t know enough about Julien’s organizational structure to have any accurate ideas. And what does it matter why? This is what he wants, and Ronan needs his help.

“Get it all in writing,” I say, putting my hand on Ronan’s thigh to keep him from saying something stupid. As it is, he looks outraged. “Would you agree to that, Julien? You promise to pay the girl a certain amount of money and swear to divorce after… two years? It won’t be enforceable by a court, but we’ll make sure you stick to your word.”

“Yes, I’ll put it in writing. Thank you for trusting me so much.” Julien’s jaw works. “Do we have a deal? I want drugs and I need a wife. You can provide both.”

Ronan shakes his head. He laughs bitterly and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. But I squeeze his leg and nod once. “Do we have a deal, Ronan?” I ask him softly.

He groans and rubs his face. “I’m going to regret this. You realize we’re going to be family, right?”

Julien brightens and extends a hand. “I look forward to it. Cousin .”

Ronan shakes and looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.