Page 7 of Fool Me Twice
“If I see you in Slatehollow again, I won’t be as generous,” Cane said in a low, menacing voice.
Jones let out a choked breath of relief before his face clouded over again. “What about Gloria?”
Cane grabbed him by his shirt and hauled him upright. “She’ll be too busy dealing with me.” He shoved Jones away from him, sending him stumbling against the wall. “Now get lost before I change my mind and put a couple hundred slates on your head for whoever is willing.”
Jones hurried to the door, shakily opening it.
“See him out,” Cane said to his enforcer, who was still waiting.
He got a raised brow, but the guy did as he was told without questions, pulling a bloody Jones behind him.
Cane ran a hand over his face, wondering what the fuck had just happened. Not a single word that had come out of Jones’s mouth had made any sort of sense, and yet the damage was done and Cane could feel it clearly.
He wished he had the time to mull it over, but he had a fight to oversee to try and recoup at least some of the lost revenue.
He was about to walk out when someone knocked on the door.
“WHAT?” Cane whipped around to find Ares raising a placating hand in the air.
His dark hair was braided close to his scalp, the long end of it draped over one shoulder. He had almost as many piercings as Cane did and had him beat on the amount of tattoos covering every visible inch of skin.
“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but…” Ares took in the state of the room with curious eyes. Cane knew he’d be pissy about not being included. “Liquidating? Without me? I’m hurt.”
“Not this time,” Cane said through his teeth. “But we do have shit to look into.”
“And not just here,” Ares said, his face twisting into a grimace. “You should probably come up.”
“Fine!” Cane slammed the door behind himself, striding through a maze of narrow hallways and entering the main area of his warehouse.
It was nothing like the space they’d just vacated. This was decked out to high heaven. Cushy seats surrounded a massive cage in the center of the room. There were several bars scattered around the place serving every drink imaginable. Beautiful hosts and hostesses in provocative clothes meandered around, bringing food and drinks to patrons. The top level was reserved for glass private booths, the richest and most powerful preening from up high as they watched the lowlifes below. Pricks.
Cane surveyed the room, not noticing anything out of the ordinary at first.
There was a fight about to begin, the two men in the cage shirtless and rowdy, waiting to throw down. The crowd was pumped and cheering, bets being placed and threats being made.
But then something caught his eye.
A hostess was walking past him with a tray of bottles, the fancy, glittering kind that rarely came down from the top shelf. There were five of them on her tray, which was strange enough. He’d seen two bottles go at a time, max. That was thousands of slates’ worth sitting right there, and instead of walking toward the VIP sections where the high rollers sat, she was making her way to the lower tables.
What the fuck?
“Desiree?” he barked.
She spun around, a little surprised. “Yes, boss?”
“Who ordered those? Did they pay already?”
“Pay?” Desiree blinked. “I thought they were free.”
“Free!” Cane growled, snatching a bottle from the tray. “This is worth more than your college tuition. Are you trying to fuck with me?”
“N-no!” she stammered. “Tess at the bar told me to take them to the table. That they were free bottles. I had nothing to do with it, I swear!”
“Take them back to the bar, and don’t give out anything else unless it’s paid for. Nothing in this place is free, not even the air. Got it?”
She nodded diligently, hurrying off.
Cane was about to follow in her footsteps, determined to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck had come over his people when Ares grabbed him on the shoulder.