Brennen said, "That woman is all over her husband like white on rice. She won't hear a word against him. If you're fantasizing about her pleading your case to him, you're barking up the wrong tree."
Dylan didn't pick up the thread. He just started chowing down, wolfing his food down and washing it down with a few drinks. "If I were to work for you, what do you want me to do?"
"Deal with Marcus, of course," Brennen replied. "You've been up close and personal with him for years. You must have your hands on some juicy stuff I want."
Dylan took a swig straight from the bottle, "I just want to stay alive! My life is in my own hands."
"So?" Brennen prodded.
"I'm in," Dylan declared.
Brennen wasn't surprised at all, he'd seen it coming from a mile away. "Great, here's to a fruitful partnership."
Dylan looked at the hand Brennen extended, hesitantly shook it and said, "I just want to live."
"As long as you want to, you will," Brennen replied, securing his grip on one of Marcus' loyalists. A smug grin spread across his face. He couldn't wait to see what Marcus could pull out of his hat against his carefully laid plans. Maybe, in no time, the Hartley Group would be back under his thumb.
......
Marcus skipped lunch, so Cornelia cooked him a plate of spaghetti. He wasn't really a fan, but because she made it, it tasted good.
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