With that, Tane takes a bite, closing his eyes as he savors the rich taste. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm getting really good at cooking people. I've come a long way since sautéeing pieces of Angel's stalker and his cousin's dick.
"This is quite nice," says Tane, taking another bite. Before long, he's devoured both ribs, oblivious to having just consumed actual pieces of two of his formerly esteemed men.
The rest of the meal goes off without a hitch, and we watch with glee as Tane continues to unknowingly eat some of the men who delivered so much agony, so much heartbreak, on his behalf. Lardons, rissoles, even a dessert using gelatin made by melting down their fingernails and eyeballs, and Tane—none the wiser.
"Is this really going to make him paranoid, if he doesn't know what he's eating?" Angel whispers, a brow quirked.
"Oh, that's part of the mindfuck," I explain. "We let him enjoy this, savor every last bite, truly enjoy it. And then when we break the news, it will be all the sweeter. It'll unseat him from his foundation, knowing he ate his men and had no idea. Complete loss of control."
"Genius," Angel exhales, shaking her head as Tane takes a final bite of his dessert. "Absolute genius."
Chapter forty-six
Two Days Later
We watch through the cameras as one by one, Tane’s men file in through the door in the corner of the room and take their seats around a large meeting table.
I recognize nearly all the faces in the room from their visit to the spiritual store and our special room in the back. As well as from the profile sheets Zeke and Aidan pulled together on each of Tane’s top men.
This is definitely a starting team, each of Tane’s star quarterbacks are basically seated around the table. Well, the ones that are left, anyway.
I’ve never really taken the time to appreciate just how good Tane has been at assembling his men. They’re all so similar, devoid of individual personalities for the most part. They wear signature dark suits, and bear impenetrable expressions on their faces, the only sign of personalities buried deep inside coming from the variations in the timbre of their voices, and the occasional twitch of the corner of their mouth or eye when something is said involving danger or a change of plans.
He’s deliberately molded them like this, into mini versions of himself. But there’s one distinct difference. Where Tane himself is a master of strategy, treatinghis men and everyone else like chess pieces—pawns specifically—in his sick games, these men don’t have the same desire to control things.
They’re perfectly content to take instructions from the man, just eager to be affiliated with him in some capacity. And don’t get me wrong, they are ambitious—but not in the way that they want to overthrow Tane and take over his share of power. Just the opposite, in fact. They’re motivated by working their way up his ranks, of proving their fierce loyalty to him.
Tane has carefully cultivated urban legends about how well he treats his men at the top, the power and untold wealth they’ll accumulate for themselves and their families. How they’ll be set up for life by the time they retire.
So what better strategy than to use that to our advantage? Tane is obsessed with loyalty, and he’s constantly wanting to test it with his guys. We know that, which means they definitely know that.
The second he gives them a task, they morph into a team of pick-mes. I get the image of a group of kids in class really wanting the teachers attention, raising their hands and grunting ‘mm mm’ in an effort to be selected. ‘I did the homework, miss. I’m your best student ever! You must see me!’ Just like that.
But, as it turns out, Tane is just as susceptible to a struggling labor market as the rest of us. While it might sound glamorous, living on the islands is a whole new beast from vacationing here. People perceive greater opportunities in bigger cities on the mainland. And, of course, it doesn't help when we've been picking off his best men one by one. It tends to serve as a deterrent to people with other options.
I still have no idea what Brick hoped to achieve with this little stunt of his. There’s always some genius end-game, and this appears to be no exception. He usually brings me into the details early on, but it's almost like he wants me to experience this one as a spectator… which makes me think this is going to be really fucking good. And really fucking bad for Tane and his men.
The room goes silent as Tane enters, flanked by two more giant men, and takes his place at the head of the table. “Right, men. We’ve achieved a critical state of alert. People will relentlessly try to take what’s ours. Your one and onlygoal is to protect our bottom line and any threats to our power by any means necessary.”
"What does that mean, boss?" asks one of the men sitting near the head of the table.
"Well, for starters, we won't be attending any further events. That restaurant thing was fine, although it was a pitiful attempt to compete with the standards set by my restaurants…" He smirks, and I want to punch the arrogant fucker in the fact on Aria's behalf. The audacity…
“Okay, get ready.” Brick nods at the rows of tiny remote controls in front of us.
I have six, he has six.
“On my count, activate them one by one. Wait five or so seconds between each.”
“Wha–what are these for, anyway?” I ask, still confused. All I know is I trust him, and I’m going to go along with his request for help, no matter how weird it might seem.
Brick presses the big button on the first of the remotes.
“Go!” Brick urges me, and I do the same.
Right on cue, one of the men stops short. His brows knit together, confusion clouding his features. He shifts his weight, hand drifting to his arm and he pats at himself near the incision site. Discomfort flickers across his face. "What the hell...?"
A second man looks down and I see him adjust in his chair. It’s as if he’s trying and failing to maintain a neutral expression, fighting the urge to fidget.