Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Harrison is busy with his own world. As long as we don’t push anything too outrageous, I don’t think he will notice.”
“Too outrageous, like breaking down his sister’s door?” He arched one eyebrow at me.
I stared back, daring him to say more.
“What did you hear?” I asked when it was clear he wasn’t going to volunteer any further information.
“Just that Ms. Astrid’s room was broken into by a few of the staff. That they had broken the door. Thankfully, it seems like Amelia wasn’t there, since she was with you at the opera last night. Funny, though, I don’t seem to recall seeing you there.”
“I was busy with my fiancée, but if you ask, several of the staff will confirm I was there.” Because they were paid to say that. “If there is nothing else…” I stood to head back to my desk.
“I’m sure, but we do have to get some other things handled.” He rose and went to one of the large conference tables covered in several sheets of paper and blueprints.
“Who else do we need to have taken care of today, Father?”
“My son, the blood-thirsty businessman.” He laughed to himself. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be sending those associates of ours after people again soon, but I’m thinking we should start with more legal avenues first.”
He’d incorrectly assumed I had been implying we should have the Irish mob handle our affairs. “Come look over these plans for the new distillery, and let’s get to work.”
He took more plans out of cardboard tubes and flattened them out on the table, using little leather beanbags to hold down the corners.
That hadn’t been what I meant.
I loathed having to use the mob. It was too much risk and not enough reward. I also believed a man should do his own dirty work—hiring it out was a sign of a coward—but I’d learned a long time ago not to correct my father. It simply wasn’t worth the hassle. He wouldn’t let me talk much, anyway. It was fine. I would listen to him, learn from his experience and wisdom, then do whatever I thought best.
He was only angered if my disobedience didn’t prove to bring better results, which rarely happened. I knew this business inside and out, and as soon as I married, it would be handed over to me by his choice or my force. Then the thugs my father dealt with would be out the door right behind him.
A truly powerful man didn’t need an attack dog.
He was the attack dog.
What I could do to anyone who faced me was far more painful than a beating from a brute.
“I want to look at how we can use this marriage for our gain,” he said.
“What did you have in mind?”
“A lot. I know this initially prevented a loss, but we can gain quite a bit here as well. With that Astrid bastard being the district attorney. We can use that to our advantage and expand faster. I’m thinking Harrison can pave the way for us to go around a few city officials and a handful of laws and get the new divisions up and running by spring.”
“What if he doesn’t agree to help us?” I looked over the blueprints. They were for another distillery with an attached warehouse. The permits on this were going to take months.
“He will. Astrid is a pushover. He lets his fucking whore wife run everything.” He waved me off dismissively. “If she can’t get senior to do what we need, she will get junior to handle it.”
“Astrid senior may be easily manipulated by his wife, but I would bet good money that Harrison is not.”
“How would you know that?” he scoffed.
“We went to boarding school together. Harrison isn’t a weak man, and to approach him while underestimating him would be a mistake.”
“Then what do you suggest?” My father cracked his knuckles, a sure sign he was losing patience.
“I’m sure we can browbeat Phillip Astrid to do as we please. More to the point, I don’t think we will need to. The joining of our whisky with his tobacco can make for an extremely lucrative venture. I’m worried that if we approach in bad faith, Harrison may not be as amenable to working with us as he was with Dubois. Especially if he finds out about some of the less-than-legal methods used by some of our less-cultured associates,” I said.
“If that Astrid bitch doesn’t want her secrets out, she’ll make her son see reason.” My father cracked his knuckles again, and I wondered, not for the first time, if he knew he had so many tells, he was easy to read and therefore easy to manage.
“I don’t think Mrs. Astrid controls her son as easily as she does her husband,” I said. “Besides, we have already used that leverage on Mrs. Astrid.”