Page 56 of Merciless Heir
“You’re a known billionaire.”
And that’s another mistake I make. And he knows it.
“Exactly.” Kingston smiles again. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m what he wants. Someone with money—”
“He either has or is after the tiara. Your tiara. You see my point?”
“What I see is you trying to tell me I can’t go and that’s not an actual option.”
“You’re deliberately being an idiot.”
“Me being there will drive up the price,” he says. “After all, the whole bullshit with my father isn’t known.”
“The jewels aren’t exactly known.”
He leans back, looking completely at ease. “My brothers don’t appreciate the value of what they have, only the sentimentality. The jewels are known because they’ve given them to their other halves.”
Kingston says this like it’s a crime.
So, I switch my line of argument to another truth. “You’re what he wants, but not how you think. This man can grift, and you like money. He can offer you wild riches—”
“Are you trying to turn me off going or head straight to the front of the queue?” Smiles are gone and now he just closes his eyes a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he looks at me. “I’m not in the market for inflated prices and I’m not looking to start an illegal art collection. Cold, hard money is my thing, not the value of inflated prices that hinge on the whims of others.”
There’s something heart breaking about that, even though I understand it and agree. I think it’s how he says it, like there’s nothing else the world has to offer but black and white numbers and dollar signs.
“I can’t talk you out of it?”
“No.”
I nod. There’s one thing I can do. I rise. “I’ll be in touch about the event.”
“It’s in two days. Harlem, like you said. And I remember all the details. I can get there whether you take me or not.”
“I know.”
And then I leave.
That night I can’t sleep. I try to tell myself Kingston’s a grown man, but I can’t shake the horrible premonition of terrible things if he meets Duante in that setting. No one’s going to die, that’s not Duante. He’s connected, but he’s into the money side. If heads roll in his other businesses, he turns a blind eye.
No, I’m not worried about Kingston’s life. I’m worried about Duante taking from him. Of finding a way.
That makes me feel like an idiot, thinking someone as savvy and sharp as Kingston would fall for that, but Duante is a different breed than Kingston deals with and I…
I’m protecting myself and protecting him.
My business relies on me having a glamorous, dark edge that isn’t sordid in the wrong ways.
If word gets out I’m suddenly rubbing shoulders with Kingston and Duante, then my career could tumble.
Me being there alone is one thing. I can blend and disappear. Being there with Kingston? That isn’t happening. And there are people who straddle both worlds.
No, better I do this. Protect myself by protecting Kingston.
And that’s the real reason.
With that firmly in mind, a plan in my head, I close my eyes and go to sleep.
It’s early in the morning when I ring the bell on the townhouse in Harlem’s Sugar Hill. This isn’t far from Athena’s but it’s a different world.