When Roses Collide

Chapter Forty-Two

"I'll tell you the same thing I told your boss," Charles leaned forward and rested his arms on the top of his desk. "He'll get his money. Things are progressing slower than I had originally anticipated, but I have it under control and it is moving forward as planned. I'm afraid you've wasted a trip for nothing."

"Somehow, the boss doesn't believe you," the man muttered and took a sip of his drink. Grimacing, he looked at the glass and then picked up the bottle and examined it. Taking a sniff from the bottle, his nose wrinkled in distaste. Setting it back down along with his tumbler, he turned towards Charles. "And I don't either." Suspicion pinched his features.

"I don't give a fuck what you believe," Charles growled.

That brought the man's head up in a hurry and he narrowed his cold steely eyes at him. "You know," he slowly made his way over to Charles, "I would be really careful what you say right now Boss Hog." A wide grin stretched his thin lips.

The sound of cracking knuckles brought Charles's attention to the hulk of a man standing sentinel at the door. "Youse better not piss Franky off. He has a way of making a point and it always sticks," he warned with a dry laugh.

Charles looked up at the man still looming above him. The name registering in the back of his mind chilled his blood. Franky "Switchblade" Salvatore. Fuck, leave it to his boss to send the most blood thirsty, rangy mutt in his pack of dogs. Charles's stomach pitched and he had to swallow several times to contain his nausea.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, toning his voice down to sound more subdued though he hated doing it. But he also knew this guy wouldn't waste a moment before cutting out his tongue and slapping it on his desk. Salvatore had a reputation and it wasn't for being pleasant.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you have been up to these last few months and what the fuck the problem is keeping our investment from moving forward. The boss has four construction crews sitting and spinning on their thumbs and he doesn't like it. He likes people doing the job he pays them to do." He leaned against the top of Charles's desk and with a motion so quick he could barely track it, Franky held a blade against his jugular. "We are going to be partners from here on out, capeesh?" His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the hidden threat behind his words. Especially when the sharp tip of his knife sliced into his skin.

Hours later, Charles walked over to the bar and dumped some whisky on a cloth and shakily reached up to blot at the dried blood on his neck. Hissing when the alcohol seared the cut.

"Fuckers," he breathed out, walking to the window to check and make sure the black SUV had really gone. With one last swipe, he tossed the stained pink towel into the trash can and started pacing. He was quickly running out of time. He needed to get things moving. There was no way in hell he wanted those two hanging around his neck for longer than necessary. He had done some smooth talking to convince them to stay in his hunting lodge rather than bunk in his own goddamn house, but for how long they would agree to stay out of sight, he didn't know.

Walking over to his office door, he threw it open and bellowed for his daughter before slamming it shut again and sitting back down at his desk. Within a few minutes, Cyndi opened it and teetered in wearing cut offs short enough to show the half-moons of her ass and a tank top low enough to show the tops of her ample breasts. Breasts he had shelled out a small fortune for. Her long, tanned legs were amped up in red high heels and her bottled blonde hair was piled high on top of her head. She looked like a goddamn hooker.

"You screamed?" she drawled, walking in and crossing her arms over her chest, not bothering to close the door. Her blue eyes snapping in annoyance at being summoned.

"Sit the fuck down," Charles seethed, pointing at a chair.

Just the sight of her added to his rage. Yes, she was his daughter, but that didn't mean he had to like it or her for that matter. When he found out his wife was finally pregnant he had been initially pleased. After all, it was about time the bitch had done something right and earned her keep. But his happiness was soon replaced with disgust and bitter disappointment when he found out he was having a daughter and not the son he wanted. In his mind, a daughter was worthless. Particularly, his. But...that was about to change. He was going to use what she gave away between her legs to his advantage.