Bad Deeds (Dirty Money #3)

“We have had extensive research done in an accredited lab, which supports Sub-Zero as being an effective treatment for ADD, ADHD, and anxiety disorders, not to mention sports recovery and numerous other disorders.”

“Those determinations would take extensive drug trials to validate,” I say, still skeptical, but more intrigued than moments before.

“But we can get it onto market with only one validated use. We can expand from there, and I have confidence we will. The studies we’ve done are impressive. Even as reluctant as you are right now to buy in to this, I promise you. You’ll be impressed.”

There is a lift to his voice, passion in its depths and in his eyes. He’s actually excited about this, and I consider the idea that his quest to go legitimate, no matter how unorthodox and dangerous his approach, might be real. But that doesn’t make me any more willing to take this deal. It might, however, make him more accepting of my declining his offer.

“I need to be blunt here,” I say. “If this drug, and this opportunity, had come to me without you contaminating my business with illegal activity, it would be a tempting proposition.”

“You can tell yourself that now,” he replies, “but we both know that not only would you have shut me down, you wouldn’t have apologized for the decision any more than I do for the actions I took to ensure we ended up in business together. I have a vision of a Martina empire, not a cartel, and I’ll do whatever’s necessary to make that happen.”

“And I have a vision for Brandon Enterprises. Illegal activity of any kind, for which you’re a magnet, is not part of it. So no. I would not have done business with you nor would I have apologized for that decision.”

“This is a good move for all of us.”

“And if I say no?”

“There’s no reason for you to take our relationship, or that of your family and my family, to negative places when ‘no’ doesn’t make sense.”

“Negative places,” I repeat, laughing without humor. “I don’t need an imagination to hear the threat in that statement.”

“I didn’t seek you out and go to the lengths I did to align our interests to have us end up in the same bad places our families would end up if they were the ones negotiating this deal.”

“That’s not a denial of the threat.”

“Not only is this drug a formula for us to make millions upon millions together,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken, “but my consortium connects you to some of the most powerful men in the world. That’s not a resource to be taken lightly.”

“I need a list of every member of the consortium,” I say, wanting to know who I won’t be doing business with and how dangerous they are to my agenda of getting us the hell out of this.

“Tye Reynolds, the director of the consortium, will make contact and provide you that information. He’ll also be the one presenting a formal request for your corporate involvement. I’ll be playing the role of silent investor, along with the rest of the consortium.”

“Where does your father stand on this?”

“I have my father under control.”

“Forgive me for not being comforted,” I say, noting the tic in his jaw, aware that I’ve hit a nerve I intend to continue to punish, “but your brother is dead and your father killed him. I’m assuming your brother thought he had him under control as well.”

“That’s where my brother fell short. He thought. He didn’t know. He didn’t create insurance. That won’t happen with me, and it won’t happen with you, which is why I’m here. Change, and a new direction, isn’t easy. It comes with resistance, even anger. It takes backbone and real commitment to make it happen, no matter who fights you on it.”

His words, and the passion with which he speaks them, resonate with me as relatable and sincere, while his actions and methods for achieving his goals do not. “If I agree to do this,” I say, testing his honor and my level of influence over this man, if any, “I want Sub-Zero out of my facility completely.”

“Soon,” he agrees.

“Now,” I counter.

“That’s not possible.”

“If you mean to legitimize Sub-Zero with my help, and through my operation, any connection to the illegal distribution of the drug is tempting fate and is self-destructive. And you don’t strike me as self-destructive.”

“You’re right. I’m not, but I also don’t have a death wish for either of us. I promised revenue to the cartel and delivered at above expectations. I cannot simply cut that off without consequences.”

“You’re the cartel.”

“My father, and his inner circle, represents the beast that is the cartel. I’m the future for the Martina name.”

“If running drugs through my operation is your plan for the future, it’s not a good one. We have regulations and inspections. We will get caught.”

“I have people in my pocket at every level in this city, and we only need to keep them in check for a short window of time, at which point this will be a nonissue. I’m selling off the illegal version of Sub-Zero to the highest bidder, and on the condition they provide their own distribution outlet.”

“As in there’s an auction going on that could leak to the Feds?”

“Your obsession with the Feds really is over-the-top and unnecessary. As I said, I have people in my pocket. I have a sale in the works. This is handled, but you need to be crystal clear on where we stand. Any disruption of revenue between now and the closing of the deal could destroy it and anger the wrong people, people we do not want angry. And you need to know and understand that I cannot, and will not, let that happen to either of us. Distribution cannot be disrupted.”

“What do you think the Feds are?”

“Again with the Feds?” He scrubs his jaw. “Damn, man. Get over it. Read my lips if you can’t understand the words coming out of my mouth: I have people in my pocket.”

“And yet they raided my facility.”

“It won’t happen again. I’ve made sure of it, but I’ll shelter you and deal with your brother. You won’t know what’s happening if questioned.”

“My brother is not a token in your game.”

“You are in his. You should thank me for giving him the impression he’s fucking you over while you’re the one fucking him over.”

“I’m saving his ass, not fucking him over. He’s my brother. My blood, which means something to me even if it doesn’t to you.”

“Your blood? Don’t be sentimental. It doesn’t suit you. He’d let you die to get ahead, just like mine would have me.”

“And yet he’s the one who died.”

“That’s right,” he says, his voice taking on an icy quality. “He did.”