He glared in my direction. “I’ll kill you. Don’t fucking care who you are. Don’t make me do it. I hate going to confession.”

I couldn’t imagine what this man’s priest had heard, but that wasn’t my problem. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just want information, and I’m willing to trade for it.”

“Don’t know why he agreed to see you, but you step out of line and you’ll be going out the back door.”

“Got it. Dead. Check. We good now?” My tone was annoyed. I’d been in enough tough situations over the years that I wasn’t about to let this guy rattle me.

“You got brass balls.” As soon as he said the words, the bookcase slid open and revealed a set of stairs. “Follow me.”

He plodded up the dimly lit stairs like a mule, and it took all the patience I had not to hurry him up. At the top was a wood-paneled hallway with multiple doors, all closed. Brass sconces lined the walls with bulbs flickering like gaslights, casting shadows across the old wooden floor.

The man led me toward the last door, his pace like molasses, at best. Was he under orders from Mount to move this frigging slow? I had to wonder.

When we reached the door at the end of the hall, he pushed it open to reveal a library. Floor-to-ceiling shelves covered almost every inch of the walls, overflowing with books. Two empty chairs sat in front of an empty fireplace.

No Mount.

While I was surveying the room, my escort triggered yet another hidden door and led me behind the fireplace. I followed him through a maze of rooms, stairs, and secret doors until I stepped into another room carrying the scent of cigar smoke and leather.

The man himself sat behind a massive wooden desk, but this room was totally different from the others. A glass ceiling supported by an intricate design of oxidized copper let in shafts of light from outdoors. The walls were white. No decoration. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, and I wondered how many missing men had sat there before they were never seen again.

It wasn’t what I expected, but for some reason, it was completely fitting for the self-proclaimed king of New Orleans.

“Detective Hennessy. Although that’s not right. It’s Mr. Hennessy now.” His rough, deep voice delivered the dig with precision.

“That’s right. No badge. No gun.”

Mount nodded at the goon behind me. “You can wait outside, Z.” The door opened and closed on silent hinges, and when we were alone, he nodded toward one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.”

I didn’t take commands well, but I wasn’t going to fuck up my one shot at getting the information I needed from the only person who might be able to get it for me. So I sat.

Mount leaned back in his chair, already looking bored. “What the hell do you want?”

Straight to the point. I could handle that.

“Information about the cartel. Who’s running what in this town. Who the fuck blew up my parents’ house. Who targeted an ex-cop last night.”

One of Mount’s dark eyebrows rose, and he cut through what I delivered to stab at the heart of the matter. “So sure it wasn’t your father who did it?”

His question confirmed that he really did know what was going on in this town.

“He wouldn’t.”

“You think.”

“I know.”

Mount reached for the cigar smoldering in the ashtray and lifted it to his lips to take a puff before replying. “And if I had the information you wanted or could get it, why would I give it to you?”

“Because I can give you closure.”

His hand barely paused as he returned the cigar to its previous position. “Explain yourself.” His gaze narrowed on me, and I hoped I’d tapped into his curiosity.

“Your mother abandoned you, according to the rumors. Don’t you want to know what really happened?”

His nostrils flared with the first sign of emotion. “I wouldn’t waste a dime to find out what happened to that bitch.”

“You won’t have to.”

With burning intensity, the man studied me, and I didn’t flinch.

“You misjudged, Hennessy. I don’t care what happened. I am what I am. What the streets made me. What I made myself. Now, get the hell out of my office.”

Fuck. I had misjudged. Completely. Offering to find his mother was my bargain, and since he clearly didn’t want anything to do with her, I’d pissed him off.

Frustrated that I’d wasted my one chance, I stood. It had been a long shot anyway.

My phone went off in my pocket before I could turn to leave, and I pulled it out. If the man was kicking me out, what the fuck did it matter if I was rude?

* * *

Ariel: I think I’m in trouble. Something happened. Something bad.

* * *

I stilled as I stared at the screen.

“Something wrong, Hennessy?”

Interest edged his tone, but all I could hear was the blood roaring in my ears.

“I’m getting out of your office, just like you wanted.” I went for the wall I’d entered through and pushed, hoping to trigger the mechanism so I could get the hell out.

“In a hurry all of a sudden.”

I spun around as Mount stood, knowing I’d made a mistake. I’d exposed a weakness in front of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of it. But to get to Ari, I didn’t fucking care.

“Let me the fuck out of here.”

He shook his head, his eyes alight with interest. “No.”

I scanned the room, ready to grab the nearest blunt object as a weapon, but there was nothing. Maybe for that exact reason.

“It’s a woman, isn’t it? Not your friend’s woman, either. What’s her name, Hennessy? What would make you stupid enough to consider attacking me?”

The fact that he knew about Valentina shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. “What the fuck does it matter?”

“Because I deal in information. And this piece is too good to pass up.”

I’d never give him Ari’s name. Fuck that. This piece of shit didn’t deserve to know she existed. “Fuck you, Mount.”

His smile was pure predator. “Willing to risk it all for her?”

My hands curled into fists of rage. “I’d fucking die for her.”

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “Then I hope she’s worthy. So few are.”