Hard Bargain: a Billionaire Suspense Romance (City Sinners Book 3)

by Kenna Shaw Reed

  Yes, I’d borrowed five million; spent one and had another one million committed. The hours waiting for news about Katie, hadn’t been wasted. Distracting myself from thinking worse-case scenarios, I’d mentally redone all the figures from the concept restaurant-club. If I pulled back on some of the features, funneled more cash into advertising and music and less on upfront interior design, then I could shave four months off construction. Less time equaled less money. Not only would I need less of Garrison’s draw down, the balance would be paid back, in spades.

  “Mate, we’ve been friends a long time. If it’s only money, you know you can come to me, right?” Darius urged.

  “We’ve been friends a long time, which is why if it was about the money, I can’t come to you.” The only thing bigger than Darius’ ego was mine. Forcing a laugh, “I needed Garrison’s connections to push through building and license approvals as much as I needed his money.”

  “They came through?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, let me pay out your debts.”

  “Thanks, but it’s too late.” Garrison’s wrath needed to stay focused on me and not extend to The Club. “In any case, I never saw you as King of all Clubs.”

  “My wife prefers me as king of The Club,” Darius said, letting it go.

  “Thanks anyway, now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lady to whisk off to bed.”

  “About fucking time you made an honest woman of her!”

  Katie

  Still clinging to Ibby’s thick jacket, I didn’t protest this time when Steve carried me down the stairs and through The Club and down to the car. The last of my energy had been sapped by the lips of the man who invaded my dreams.

  “Katie, you had us worried!”

  “Always knew Steve could sweep a girl off her feet.”

  “Don’t scare us like that again, okay?”

  Dozens of staff and even customers slowed our trek to the car. Everyone wanting a hug or to make sure I knew they cared.

  My absence had been noticed. I’d been missed.

  I was loved.

  No, Ibby hadn’t said the words, but his actions didn’t need deciphering. My personal bodyguard, Grizz barely spoke, but no one could get close without a nodded exchange between Grizz and Steve.

  “Ready?” Steve whispered after I became too exhausted to even acknowledge the barrage of questions.

  “I just want to lie down.” My head dropped against his shoulder. Eyelids wanting to give into gravity.

  “Then, kiddo, let’s get you to the boss’ house. About time the man learned to look after his favorite staff.” As head of security, Steve rarely let his sense of humor show.

  “What?” I mocked back. “You mean he doesn’t turn his house into a slumber party for all staff?”

  “Only the ones he looks at the way he looks at you. Don’t worry, kiddo. You might have gone to extreme measures to get his attention, but I don’t see him putting that genie back in the bottle any time soon.”

  “Tara was right, you do see all.”

  “See all and say nothing. Secret to a long career in security.”

  “Thanks.”

  Steve took me to Ibby’s car where the man himself was waiting and ready to drive. I’d expected a cab or Steve’s car.

  While Grizz waited on his bike for us to take off, Steve helped me into the passenger seat. Wrapping the blanket around me and rolling up one of The Club towels for me to use as a pillow.

  “She’s right to go, boss.”

  Ibby looked to me before nodding and starting the engine. A quick check towards Grizz and he backed out of car space. Curled underneath the blanket, my last thoughts before giving into sleep were whether Ibby would have held my hand if it were free?

  Did it matter?

  He’d finally kissed me.

  In the moment or because it meant something?

  Did it matter?

  Only if he wanted to take it back.

  To the gentle hum of the engine, I slept through traffic and the hour-long drive to the western suburbs of Sydney. Only waking as the car pulled to a stop.

  “Here we go, welcome to Casa Mercia,” Ibby announced, reaching over to unbuckle my seat belt.

  “Wow!”

  I don’t know what I expected. Inner city modern penthouse full of stainless steel or a modern show home styled the same as his nightclubs?

  Nothing prepared me for the Mediterranean white concrete museum style fortress amidst large green leafy foliage. Tall pillars proudly held up the slated rust-red roof. This could be any home on the hills of Greece or Croatia’s Dubrovnik. Old-fashioned splendor. The grating sound of gates closing us was the only reminder this man moved in dangerous circles.

  This house was a world away from the Ibrahim Mercia I thought I knew.

  “You really live a different life.”

  “My parents came out as refugees and worked hard. They raised my family by the traditional values but made sure we knew how lucky we were to live in Australia.”

  “My father’s parents came out after world war two.” Admitting my Lebanese heritage came with the familiar tug of homesickness. Normally, it was easy enough to hide behind my blonde hair. But talking about family came with memories of loss.

  “From?”

  “Same.”

  Ibby drew me into his arms while Grizz made friends with the two security guards at the front gate. “They know about your job?”

  Ibby’s question could have come with cultural double-standard but didn’t. “What do you think?” I parried back, waiting for his body to stiffen and recoil. Then again, if our kisses from before turned into something more, Ibby would eventually find out. “Daddy caught me with my boyfriend in first year of uni. The conversation didn’t go well.”

  “Oh.”

  My father had been very clear, women who had sex before marriage were tainted goods. I’d never be good marriage material for a good Lebanese boy.

  Faced with daddy’s wrath, my then boyfriend was long gone, as was staying at home and finishing university. Promises to love me forever, forgotten when faced with the threat of marriage and a real forever.

  “It’s fine,” I said, biting my lip. Ibby didn’t need to say more. I steeled myself for the judgement and hoped Grizz would give me a lift back into the city. Ibby and I shared a common culture, and from the look of his traditional home, I now feared how far Ibby’s traditional values would extend.

  “I guess if you asked my father, I probably asked for the last twenty-four hours.”

  I hadn’t noticed how far I’d moved away from Ibby. I’d been standing in the middle of the courtyard. Until his fingers caught the lapel of his jacket and pulled me back into his chest. Fisting the fabric to hold me close without grabbing or hurting my arm.

  “Katie, listen to me,” he implored. Twisting his face until I couldn’t look away. “You did nothing wrong. You’ve done nothing wrong. You have a real job, and if you didn’t notice, the clients love you. Our regulars were going out of their mind when you didn’t turn up last night. Yes, your looks helped you get the job, but you own it. You, my habibat alqalb, are also the heart and soul of The Club.”

  “Thank you,” I blushed. “You didn’t need to say that.”

  The cynical part of me thought Ibby only saw me as a valued employee, needed for good cash flow. But the woman who had been kissed by Ibrahim Mercia knew the man called few women sweetheart and had never heard him call any woman the Arabic term. He’d called me habibat earlier, but this was an escalation.

  “Look, you’re exhausted, and I promised Layla I’d get you home and to bed.” His eyes twinkled and I tried to silence my father’s words. “Come on in, I’ve had a couple of rooms made up for you to choose from.”

  With Grizz making his own way around the house and grounds, I followed Ibby up the half a dozen stairs to the front door. The solid wood creaked as he opened to usher me into a marble foyer. Larger than the size of my small bedsit, it opened into a living room
with corridors off to one side.

  “Doesn’t this place seem empty?” Each squeak from my cheap sneakers echoed through the large rooms.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Ibby looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “I bought it for my mother, but she didn’t want to move away from her friends. Rather than let me chuck it back on the market, she insisted I keep it.”

  “Why?”

  “Why else?” he laughed. “My mother sees this as a promise that I’ll find a woman and fill the rooms with grandchildren.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. Without knowing Ibby’s mother, I’d met hundreds like her. Mostly, in my own family. “Every mother’s dream. I swear, the only reason they have sons is so the sons will give them grandchildren.”

  “To carry on the family name.”

  “Really? In my family, it was to carry on the family recipes.”

  “You cook?”

  “As well as you can. Except, I slow cook the meat for the Sfeeha, and my pastry is thinner.”

  “How can you go thinner?”

  “Give me access to your kitchen and I’ll show you.”

  “Consider my house, your home—”

  Grizz was still outside, checking the parameter and windows.

  No one could hear my heart pumping or the music in my head.

  “Katie,” Ibby moaned, playing with the hand I hadn’t realized he now held. “All those nights watching you dance.”

  “All those nights, watching you take other women home.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I looked at another woman.”

  “I can, it was—”

  “Like I said, I can’t remember looking at another woman other than you.”

  This time, his kiss had the hunger of a man starving. I didn’t care about tomorrows or traditional values. I didn’t even care about making the biggest mistake with my heart. I relinquished all power to Ibby. Folding into his arms and giving into the moment. Tongue exploring while our fingers still played a dance of their own.

  Only when my body reminded me of its exhaustion and I stumbled, did he break away from our kiss to steady me. Not letting me fall, even when he was the cause. “Sweetheart, let’s get you to your room so you can sleep.”

  “I don’t want to sleep.” Want and need were two very different things.

  “Oh, babe, believe me.” He cupped my face, thumbs caressing my cheek bones until he planted a wet kiss to the tip of my nose. “This conversation isn’t over, but you need your rest and I need to go and check on my business.”

  “Is it safe, I mean, will you be safe?”

  Karma had never been my best friend, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Ibby at the time he’d finally noticed me as a woman.

  “I’m leaving Grizz with you. If it was Garrison, he took you to send me a message. I need to check on a few things before I give him a message of my own.”

  “Please be careful.” I wanted to plead with him to stay almost as much as I wanted sleep. “Ibby, I want that conversation.”

  “Fuck, Katie.” Ibby crushed me with another, rushed kiss, filling my heart with promises. “I’ve never wanted a woman for as long or as much as I want you. We need to be smart about it, but I guarantee this conversation is happening.”

  “Ibby? I want you to be safe.”

  “Sweetheart, come on upstairs and get some sleep.”

  My room was white on white. The only color splashes of vibrant reds and purples of the Turkish style rug and soft cashmere throw. Ibby helped me out of my shoes, pulled back the doona cover and tucked me into bed.

  A gentleman. Later, I’d ask about the last time he took a woman to bed without actually bedding her. But my body reacted more to the bed than to the man. Stretching out, my eyes were closed before he’d even closed the door on his receding footsteps.

  Sleep.

  I replayed Ibby’s words and kisses as I allowed the soft mattress and full pillows embrace me as their own. Ibby hadn’t rushed me to his bed, but to a spare bedroom, overlooking his back yard and vegetable garden. For a modern man, and nightclub king, Ibrahim Mercia was a simple boy from Lebanon.

  Daddy would have approved.

  Ibby

  “All good, boss. Last night the place was pumping. Bikers wandered around and talked to people, but everything was chill.”

  “Thanks, Tariq.”

  During the drive back to the city, I’d made contact with each of my nightclub managers. Each had the same story.

  Last night’s takings had me back on track to pay down the fucking debts. Yes, Luther and Karnal were still at war, but last night their crews had been looking for answers about Katie instead of finding or creating trouble.

  One more place to check in, but this time I had to go in person.

  Parking behind all the work trucks, I was immediately energized by the sound of drills, saws and voices shouting orders. Yes, there were about fifty guys on site, all charging by the minute, but the progress over the past week gave me hope.

  The former warehouse carcass had been stripped back and now the insides were taking shape. Electrical wires hung everywhere, copper plumbing was in place and awaiting sheeting. Spray paint indicated where walls, different floor heights and a thousand other details my designer insisted would be the difference between another successful business and a concept I could franchise the fuck of and take international.

  “Hey, boss.” Ricardo and I went back years. Two men I always trusted never to be happy: a foreman and a goalkeeper. With Ricardo, I trusted him to get the best out of his team, and to give me honesty instead of bullshit.

  “How’s it going?” Ricardo didn’t need me to explain, yet again, how much I needed them to be ahead of schedule.

  “We ordered the new copper this morning. Once that arrives, it should only take a couple of days to get us back on track.”

  Shit.

  “New copper?”

  “Last night we had a bit of a break in. Didn’t do much damage, just stole any copper that hadn’t been installed.”

  “They didn’t rip anything from the walls?”

  Losing copper was normally the price of doing business. It could be sold and resold before the original theft was even discovered. But if money was the objective, thieves wouldn’t stop at the stuff lying around. There wouldn’t be any hesitation to strip a building and sometimes the repair bill was higher than replacing the stolen copper.

  “Nah, you got lucky.”

  “Or not. Are you sure nothing else was touched?”

  “I’ll get the boys to check again, why?” Ricardo lowered his voice, “Were you expecting guests?”

  I appreciated him not wanting the rest of his crew to hear my suspicion. “Not as such, but doesn’t it seem strange to you that they only hit the stuff lying around?”

  “My fault. We heard the call you were looking for a girl. I thought we could go without security for a night or two so we could help out.”

  There. One night, two messages.

  “You did the right thing. All the noise worked, and she was returned this morning.”

  “Unharmed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She a friend of yours?”

  Ricardo had been around building sites for too long not to come to the same assumptions. “Garrison has the hots for two of my hostesses. He took one last night and may have taken advantage of the situation by visiting this place.”

  “His goons keep coming by, as if they own the fucking place.”

  Ricardo and I shared a knowing gaze. There was only one way out of this mess, but I needed a realistic excuse. “You said the installed copper hadn’t been touched?”

  “Yeah.” Ricardo smiled; he knew where I was going with this line of thought.

  “What if some of it had been damaged, I mean, you’ve got a lot of electrical tools in use.”

  “I guess.” He grinned but I had to be the one to say it.

  “I mean, what if there had been a safety inci
dent this morning? On site. Wouldn’t you need to close down the site to essential workers only, for their own safety?”

  “We’d need paperwork, inspectors and stuff.”

  “Know anyone you can trust?”

  “There’s a fellow I use to sign over some bureaucratic shit. Still, you need an injured worker to make it legit.”

  “Anyone from your sites who deserves a holiday?”

  “One or two.” Ricardo paused. “This is some serious shit you got yourself in. Sure it’s worth it?”

  “Let’s talk about what we can do to bring forward opening night. What’s the minimum we need to do now and what can we hold off and do in stages later. Quicker we open—”

  “The quicker your life gets less complicated?” Ricardo snorted. “Man, I used to look at you guys and envy the rivers of money.”

  “And now?”

  “At least I get to go home at night to a cold beer, warm woman and a hundred television channels.”

  A year ago, I’d have mocked my friend. Reminded him that with a hundred women, I didn’t need a television.

  Now, the only woman I wanted was asleep, making my house our home.

  “Ibrahim!”

  My mother shrieked her greeting, covering my black shirt with floured hands before making it worse by trying to brush them clean. “Ibrahim bless you. What’s wrong!”

  “No, mama, nothing is wrong. Why can’t a son visit his blessed mother without having a reason.”

  I looked around, grateful the restaurant was between morning coffee and lunchtime rushes. No one knew about my relationship with the restaurant. I trusted Garrison would never go after my mother, but if he ever found out, her business could be in play.

  “You hungry? Eat!” Mother pulled me into the kitchen where the chef shrugged and accepted an unexpected guest as normal. “Steva, my son is hungry. Look at the boy. Always working hard, never finding time to eat. You need to find yourself a woman who will look after you. Not one of those skinny strumpets.”

  “Mama!” This time my shock was genuine. For years my partner in crimes of the flesh, Ronan, and I had tried to shield or at least, protect, our parents from our private life. She’d only met Darius once, and that was only when the woman on his arm bore a diamond ring. As for Luther and Lachlan, mama never forgave them for leading me astray.