The racetrack was alive with the hum of excitent, the air thick with the sll of turf and the low murmur of betting patrons. Kieran leaned back in his seat at the V.I.P box, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation as the horses lined up in their stalls. Who knew with a little charms and a smile one could easily get into those special vip rooms.
Nolan could barely believe what he was witnessing himself do.
He hadn't co here for the race itself he wasn't a gambler. But he knew Harrow liked the track. And if there was one thing Kieran had learned about business, it was that knowing where your mark spent his ti was half the battle.
The horses took off, hooves pounding against the dirt, and Kieran idly glanced at his phone, not really paying attention to the race. As he swiped through a few ssages, he heard the faint clinking of glasses and turned to see Harrow stepping into the box. The man had a confident, almost cocky air about him, the sa as when they'd first t at the lounge. His tailored suit caught the light just right, and his presence filled the space.
"Well, well, well," Harrow said, flashing a knowing smile as he took a seat beside Kieran. "I didn't think I would find you here. You know now that I think of it,
I rember you ntioning sothing about real estate last ti we spoke. Funny thing—" he paused, giving Kieran a winky look, "—I might have a property that could be of interest to you."
Kieran didn't miss the way Harrow's smile lingered, as if expecting him to pounce on the offer. But Kieran knew better. Harrow was trying to lead him down a path, trying to reel him in with the promise of sothing bigger.
He raised an eyebrow, his smile wide and genuine, if a little too practiced. "Oh, really? A property, you say? I'm all ears."
Before Harrow could continue, Kieran's phone buzzed again. He glanced down at the screen, and his face went unreadable. The article about the failed health inspection at Harrow's hotel was already making the rounds—headline blaring in bold letters: Hotel Owner's Establishnt Fails Health Inspection Amidst Allegations of Poor Treatnt of Holess.
A slow smile tugged at the corner of Kieran's lips, and his eyes flickered back up to Harrow, whose expression faltered just slightly when he caught Kieran's gaze.
"Well," Kieran said, shaking his head with a slight chuckle, "I don't know if you're talking about that property." His voice was calm, cool, the words landing like a calculated move in a ga of chess. He glanced back down at his phone, scrolling through the article.
Harrow's smile dropped, just for a second, before he recovered, but Kieran could see the tension in the lines of his jaw. The weight of the news had hit Harrow faster than expected, and Kieran knew it would only get worse from here. Harrow's carefully crafted reputation, built on the image of his successful real estate ventures, was beginning to crack.
Kieran, with the slight tilt of his head, set the phone down and t Harrow's gaze again. "I'm not sure I can work miracles on that one, Harrow," Kieran said, his voice light but with a sharp edge underneath. "I've done so impressive things, but that's a big ss. I'm not even sure I can fix sothing like that."
For a mont, silence hung in the air between them, the sounds of the racetrack fading into a background hum. Harrow looked like he was about to speak, but Kieran interrupted him, keeping his tone casual but final.
"I'll have to think about it, though," Kieran added, offering a small shrug. "But… miracles? I don't know. Even I have my limits."
The words were ant to cast doubt, to make Harrow wonder whether Kieran would even consider the deal. And it worked. Kieran could see Harrow's mind racing, the wheels turning as the man tried to figure out how to spin the conversation into sothing he could salvage.
Nolan's voice echoed inside Kieran's head. 'What are you doing?? I thought this is what we wanted.'
Quentin's voice was a bit more pointed. 'You could break him, you know. He's on the edge. One more push and he'll fall apart, cmon Keep going'
Kieran suppressed the inner chatter for a mont, holding his posture steady as Harrow seed to consider his words carefully. There was still sothing about the man that made Kieran want to tear the facade down completely, but for now, patience was key.
Harrow, for his part, stayed silent, his gaze shifting briefly toward the track, the horses galloping past in a blur of motion. It almost seed as if he was weighing his options, knowing this conversation had turned in an unexpected direction.
Kieran didn't flinch. He didn't need to. Harrow would co back to him—he always did. The question was, how long would it take?
Finally, Harrow spoke, though his voice lacked the confidence it had earlier. "I'll keep the offer open, Kieran," he said, voice tight. "Let
know if you change your mind."
Kieran gave a casual shrug, his smile returning to his face. "I'll let you know." He then gave a slow nod, signaling that the conversation had ended on his terms.
As Kieran made to stand, he caught Harrow's eye once more, and for just a second, there was sothing more than business flickering in the air between them. Harrow was frustrated. Kieran could feel it. But that was all part of the ga.
He didn't need Harrow to know everything, not yet.
As Kieran moved away from the racetrack, he pulled out his phone again and skimd through the headlines of the health inspection article. It was everywhere, and it was only going to get worse for Harrow. The next step was making sure Harrow couldn't recover.
Nolan's voice whispered, almost thoughtful. 'Are you sure about this? If we draw this on too long he might figure it out.'
Quentin's voice, more pragmatic, chid in. 'Don't worry about that. You're setting up the perfect trap. Just make sure you stay in control.'
Kieran's lips quirked into a grin as he walked away from the racetrack. He'd played Harrow perfectly. The man didn't know it yet, but he was already on the hook.
The only thing left to do was reel him in.
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