Jax (Titan #9)(70)
"Let's see." Jax leaned back to inspect her lip again. "I think you're going to live."
Seven had no idea why the funny line seemed to hold so much gravitas as he said it, but her soul squeezed. "You helped me in more ways than you know."
Jax gave her a simple, sweet kiss on the top of her head, resting his chin afterward. "Same."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Civility wasn't a high point of Las Vegas, and that was one of many reasons it wasn't Hernán's favorite place to go.
Esmeralda had her hair tied in a bun and tucked under her large-brimmed hat as they played tourist, walking down the streets with two of their covertly armed bodyguards following close. The four of them blended in as vacationers among common people.
Periodically, he came out of his castle with his queen. It was interesting, even if it served a business purpose. He liked to walk in crowds to see how cultures behaved, what they wore, what they spent money on. And when his network of spies and friends inside of the tightest of elite circles told him there was a special meeting of North American drug movers and shakers, Hernán desired to be in town at the same time.
Esmeralda did not. Her biggest complaint was the food, but that was one area he did not budge on. When they were in the US, they dined like Americans. And not the type that could afford to eat at Esmeralda's restaurant on the regular, rather the kind that would invest every last penny in the white nose candy that made him and his wife so wealthy. That meant, for breakfast, the greasy food would have an aftertaste, and bitter coffee was made tolerable only by additives.
"Are you ready, my dear?" He also used this time to work on his English and on removing as much of the Colombian accent as possible. That was more of a hobby than a necessity, but he so enjoyed it.
Esmeralda, not so much. "Si."
It would be one of those days where he would have to make sure she knew how much he appreciated her. They'd left their expensive suite under the cover of rich disguise and had followed the concierge's list of best, mid-priced establishments for breakfast.
The morning sun warmed his back as they fell into step with milling crowds of tourists and promoters, pickpockets and pros. "Shall I pick one on the list or—"
"I do not care."
Esmerelda would need much attention.
"The closest to the hotel, then." He took her cold hand, unaccustomed to her height in her athletic shoes, and they started down the sidewalk for their breakfast destination. "We'll cross at the first light."
"Hmm."
What would she like to make her feel better? Champagne and caviar. Emeralds were her favorite jewel, mostly because she was named after them and had a room dedicated to her collection like some women showed off their shoes and handbags. Maybe a trip somewhere she wanted to go. Venice? Hadn't she mentioned that recently?
A sweaty, heavyset man in a cotton shirt that belonged under a normal shirt bumped into them—elbowing away without a word. Hernán swallowed away his disdain, but Esmeralda dug her fingernails into his hand, sinking her painted claws into his flesh. Sometimes, she needed to expel her unhappiness with pain, and he didn't mind the little bites. It was easier to let the levees be opened when needed lest she be overrun with a sadistic explosion that was far harder to control.
A man in a leather cut pushed past a family of four, almost knocking the mother into the street. The gangs were in Vegas… and that was a Mayhem insignia.
"Hernán." Esmerelda's nails came free as she inched close.
But by the time the man had crossed, Hernán didn't need his wife to point out Johnny Miller as he twitched and jerked across the street, storming and stamping with evident anger.
Hernán's eyes narrowed, and with the tilt of his head, he ordered one of his guards to peel off and follow Johnny. Mayhem's vice president was visibly upset and coming down from what looked like meth.
They crossed with the crowd as the light changed and watched Johnny until Hernán could no longer see him.
"Does that mean what I think?" Esmeralda's hopeful voice meant the breakfast outing wasn't a total lost cause in her mind.
"There are problems in the rank, and their leaders are using the product." Perhaps it was time to run Jorge's report about Johnny's children by his Esmeralda.
They arrived in front of the breakfast recommendation, but Hernán didn't go in yet. If he told her about the possibility of using Johnny's children as a pressure point to keep Mayhem in place, she might want his kids, anyway. Though Hernán could always get her other children if Johnny's didn't work out in negotiations and made a note to have Jorge arrange for options.
"My dear, at the very basic level, what is in our best interest?" She hated games but let him have them at times.
She scoffed then held out her fingernails and checked her manicure. "Mayhem remains in distribution. They keep the status quo."
"Yes." Reminding her of this was needed. "It costs too much time and money to switch distributors. If we had to." He shrugged. "But if we didn't… how could we use Johnny to convince Mayhem to revote?"
"We don't." She dropped her hand. "We torture and kill him then send his body back in pieces. I'll sign the final note that tells them not to try and renegotiate their contract—anything that keeps me from this breakfast again."