Chapter Thirty
Sebastian
“You were gone for a while…” I say, approaching Lauren’s desk as she plonks into her chair.
Glancing up at me, she smiles sweetly. “Traffic,” she says, but there’s a mischievous glimmer in her eyes that has me narrowing mine at her.
I’d realised too late last week that I forgot to tell her she didn’t need to go to the penthouse. I’d have figured out something for Shadow. But then she fucking hung up on me. Then she didn’t even grab the files it turned out I really did need, so I went to get them myself.
Now that Lauren’s met Grace, she’s all too delighted to go.
A thought snags in my mind. “Did you give Grace clothes?”
Grace had barely changed her outfit in the two weeks I’d known her until this weekend. I was confused at first, but this makes sense, and although she doesn’t answer the question, if the twinkle in Lauren’s eyes is anything to go by, I’m right on the money. I dip my head in thanks, and I know she gets the message.
“Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Reed?” she asks, her eyes flicking to my groin and back so fast I’m not sure if I imagined it.
What the fuck?
She lets out a laugh before turning back to her computer.
What the hell is going on?
“Are you ready to go?”
Both our heads lift as Easton stops in front of us.
“Go where?” I ask, glancing at the calendar Lauren has up on her screen, but there’s nothing until this afternoon.
“We have business,” Easton says, and the look he gives me lets me know exactly what kind ofbusinessit is.
I sigh. I don’t have time for this shit. Not with Vincent on my ass about running the company. Easton’s dad is a piece of shit, except I have no choice but to deal with him.
Lauren doesn’t ask questions. She never does. Though usually, Easton blocks out my schedule for anyprivatebusiness meetings,so it doesn’t screw up other shit.
The tension is still thick between Easton and me. It had been just over a week since we’d gone to Ian’s supposed house, and then Easton throwing those photos down on my desk. We’d spoken briefly over that time, but clearly, we both still had issues with it. At some point, we were going to have to sort it out.
Easton leads the way to his car in the underground parking garage, and I unbutton my suit jacket before lowering myself into the passenger seat.
“Who are we meeting?” I ask, rubbing my forehead.
“New client,” East says, glancing at me as he pulls out of the parking lot, his men in the car behind us.
“What do we know about them?”
“Not a lot,” he says, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “I barely had any time to check him out. Vincent set it up, and, of course, he didn’t fucking tell me until the last minute.” His brows draw low over his eyes. “Alexander Deveigne. The only thing I could find out about him is that he runs a low-level crime syndicate. Drugs, guns.”
Deveigne.
The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Low level? How big is his operation? Why does he need us?”
“Fuck, Sebastian. I don’t know,” he snaps. “I didn’t set this shit up. You know Vincent, he doesn’t do anything unless it benefitshim.”
Easton loathes his father, always has. But he’s right. Vincent only ever thinks about himself. The only problem is anything to do with this side of the business explicitly goes through me. And he fucking hates it. But there must be something we’re missing if he went to all the trouble of setting this up, then hiding it, for alow-levelcriminal.
We pull up to an empty warehouse, and East shuts off the car. Four of his guys get out of the SUV behind us, and I know they’re completely armed.