rolling I mean it’s time to get things rolling.”
“Very well.”
Dutch had the long-suffering tone down and Syren couldn’t blame him, he was a handful to deal with on a good day.
“How will you proceed?”
Syren grinned. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that one.” He hung up and dialed another number. The phone rang three times, two more than was necessary.
“Hello.”
“Are we screening our calls now?”
“What, can’t I get some sleep around here without you fucking with my slumber?”
“Uh-huh. It’s three in the afternoon where you’re at, Billy. I know my time zones,” he said smugly.
“What do you want?”
“The account I sent you, make the money disappear.”
Billy coughed. “Disappear how?”
“How should I know?” Syren frowned. “You’re the one with the skills. Give it away to charities or something like that.”
“What?” Billy screeched. “Do you know how much money is in that account? It’s— it’s a lot, man. Like, a lot.”
“Just do it. Give it to charities for kids and women.”
“Yeah, all right.” Billy sounded as if he were in mourning. “I don’t get you, man, I really don’t.”
Syren gave him a brittle laugh. “That’s quite all right, I don’t get me either.”
* * * * *
He landed in Los Angeles around early evening the next day and immediately Thiago and his silent bodyguard encroached on his personal space. He checked in on the heir not-so-apparent at the Hollywood Hills house and was stopped when he tried to make a quick exit.
“Stay for a while, party with us.”
Thiago had that cajoling tone down to a freaking science. Too bad it didn’t work on Syren. He raised an eyebrow at the two men seated way too close to each other on the
sofa. Bottles littered the floor and any flat surface. Their eyelids hung way too low for them to be anything other than drugged out.
“I’m not interested in partying with you, Thiago.” He turned to the door. “And I’m fairly sure your father wouldn’t like to know just how you’re behaving in his absence.”
A force slammed him into the door.
“Are you gonna tell him?”
Goddamn it, what was with these Delatorre men lately? Syren bucked Thiago off him and spun around. He grabbed the fool by the neck. “Let me tell you something, you entitled little fuck, try that again and I will end you. In the worst possible way. Got it?”
He didn’t think Thiago’s eyes could get any wider, but they focused on him in a hurry. As Faro he didn’t usually assert himself. Scratch that, he never did, but no way was Syren allowing Thiago to think he could do what he did and get away with it.
Bodyguard staggered to his feet and Syren rolled his eyes. “You two kids should think about sleeping off whatever it is you’ve got running through your system.” He released Thiago. “It’s not working for you.”
In the car on his way to his apartment he got an email from Pablo Castillo, one of the Delatorre’s more profitable buyers out of New York. Syren and Pablo had an unspoken thing between them—they indulged in the occasional sexually charged banter but took it no further. In his email Pablo asked for Syren’s help in locating someone from his past, a very deadly someone.
Once inside the privacy of his place, Syren sent off a text to Billy with the relevant information for Pablo then took a shower. He didn’t linger, his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t wait to fully inspect the gift Isa had bought for him. She knew his tastes and his preferences, so he didn’t doubt she’d do right by him. Still, he wanted to see them.
In his bedroom he pulled everything from the bag and held his presents up against his chest with a purr. Reds, pinks and the occasional black. Isa had outdone herself. He collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his new playthings with a soft sigh.
Damn if he wasn’t as close to happy as he could be right then.
* * * * *
“Heard you were looking for me.”
Kane scowled at the
“Very well.”
Dutch had the long-suffering tone down and Syren couldn’t blame him, he was a handful to deal with on a good day.
“How will you proceed?”
Syren grinned. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that one.” He hung up and dialed another number. The phone rang three times, two more than was necessary.
“Hello.”
“Are we screening our calls now?”
“What, can’t I get some sleep around here without you fucking with my slumber?”
“Uh-huh. It’s three in the afternoon where you’re at, Billy. I know my time zones,” he said smugly.
“What do you want?”
“The account I sent you, make the money disappear.”
Billy coughed. “Disappear how?”
“How should I know?” Syren frowned. “You’re the one with the skills. Give it away to charities or something like that.”
“What?” Billy screeched. “Do you know how much money is in that account? It’s— it’s a lot, man. Like, a lot.”
“Just do it. Give it to charities for kids and women.”
“Yeah, all right.” Billy sounded as if he were in mourning. “I don’t get you, man, I really don’t.”
Syren gave him a brittle laugh. “That’s quite all right, I don’t get me either.”
* * * * *
He landed in Los Angeles around early evening the next day and immediately Thiago and his silent bodyguard encroached on his personal space. He checked in on the heir not-so-apparent at the Hollywood Hills house and was stopped when he tried to make a quick exit.
“Stay for a while, party with us.”
Thiago had that cajoling tone down to a freaking science. Too bad it didn’t work on Syren. He raised an eyebrow at the two men seated way too close to each other on the
sofa. Bottles littered the floor and any flat surface. Their eyelids hung way too low for them to be anything other than drugged out.
“I’m not interested in partying with you, Thiago.” He turned to the door. “And I’m fairly sure your father wouldn’t like to know just how you’re behaving in his absence.”
A force slammed him into the door.
“Are you gonna tell him?”
Goddamn it, what was with these Delatorre men lately? Syren bucked Thiago off him and spun around. He grabbed the fool by the neck. “Let me tell you something, you entitled little fuck, try that again and I will end you. In the worst possible way. Got it?”
He didn’t think Thiago’s eyes could get any wider, but they focused on him in a hurry. As Faro he didn’t usually assert himself. Scratch that, he never did, but no way was Syren allowing Thiago to think he could do what he did and get away with it.
Bodyguard staggered to his feet and Syren rolled his eyes. “You two kids should think about sleeping off whatever it is you’ve got running through your system.” He released Thiago. “It’s not working for you.”
In the car on his way to his apartment he got an email from Pablo Castillo, one of the Delatorre’s more profitable buyers out of New York. Syren and Pablo had an unspoken thing between them—they indulged in the occasional sexually charged banter but took it no further. In his email Pablo asked for Syren’s help in locating someone from his past, a very deadly someone.
Once inside the privacy of his place, Syren sent off a text to Billy with the relevant information for Pablo then took a shower. He didn’t linger, his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t wait to fully inspect the gift Isa had bought for him. She knew his tastes and his preferences, so he didn’t doubt she’d do right by him. Still, he wanted to see them.
In his bedroom he pulled everything from the bag and held his presents up against his chest with a purr. Reds, pinks and the occasional black. Isa had outdone herself. He collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his new playthings with a soft sigh.
Damn if he wasn’t as close to happy as he could be right then.
* * * * *
“Heard you were looking for me.”
Kane scowled at the
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