The Brit
Apparently, I get to warn the congregation in advance. If Uncle Ernie so much as smiles at the irony, I’m to put two bullets in him. One in his gammy knee, the other in his temple. I laugh to myself, knowing Uncle Ernie has read all of this.
He wants me to speak. Say a few words. And he wants me to give the church one hundred grand after the service. If any FBI agents show up, he wants me to stab them in the heart with a crucifix. I turn the page and read on. He wants to be buried in the cathedral’s graveyard with one hundred peace lilies surrounding his headstone. I laugh. Awkward fucker. That graveyard hasn’t seen a burial in over fifty years.
But reading on, I note that arrangements have already been made with the priest. My father was many things, and prepared was one of his best traits.
Everything is left to me. His empire, his assets.
His deadly reputation.
It’s all mine.
I look up, dropping the papers on my desk, as Brad walks in. “It’s been a week.” He tells me what I already know, taking a seat in the chair opposite me. He looks hungry, ready for a killing spree. My right-hand man is a close second to me in the animal stakes. He’s the only man left in this world who I can trust. The bloke is a rock, has been by my side from day one. He’s family, my cousin, son of my father’s dead sister. And he’s been a loyal friend to me, even as kids when we barely knew what loyalty stood for. He took the rap when I beat the shit out of a boy five years my senior, because Brad knew if the cops got hold of Carlo Black’s son, they wouldn’t let go. He’s a good friend.
“Actually”—I look down at my Tag Heuer—“he has one minute left.”
“I don’t think Perry Adams is gonna make it from Vegas to Miami in one minute.” Brad tosses a stack of photographs on my desk, and I pick up the pictures, browsing through the first couple, seeing the corrupt prick laughing at a poker table. Has he forgotten that he’s got a cold-blooded killer to satisfy? His head is tossed back where he sits with stacks of chips in front of him. “Looks like he’s having a whale of a time too,” I muse, dropping the pictures and leaning back in my throne, stroking my cupid’s bow in thought.
“He’s avoiding my calls.” Brad adds to Adams’s list of wrongs. “What’s his game?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, wondering how any man could be so fucking stupid. He’s been falling all over himself to get me Byron’s Reach and take my money to fund his efforts to become mayor. And all of a sudden he doesn’t give a shit?
“We need that marina.” Brad hates anyone stating the obvious, so when I raise a brow at him, he rolls his eyes. “We should go straight to the Jepsons.”
“You can’t legally buy land without a lawyer. Besides, I want Adams in power too. I’m fifteen million down, and so far I’ve got fuck all to show for it except a thirst for his blood.” I want to slam my fist on the desk. But I don’t. Never show your frustration. Looking down at the pictures, I ask, “When were these taken?”
“A few hours ago. He’s still there. Had it confirmed by the Aria’s security.”
I stand, fixing my jacket. “Get the jet ready.”
Chapter 4
ROSE
* * *
The dress isn’t my taste, but it’s what he likes. Short. Revealing. Strapless. Nothing like his wife would wear. Or could wear.
The style is a far cry from what my tall body feels comfortable in, because at five foot nine, a short dress is shorter on me than the average woman. Not that I’m here to feel comfortable. I’m just here. In a tarty red dress. I hate it. It screams whore. But that’s what I am.
The fire red is definitely me, though. I’ll keep telling myself that. It’s a way of accepting something that’s out of my control. My whole life is out of my control, but this red? I would have picked this color. Against my tan skin and mahogany hair, the shade looks like it was made for my coloring. It may well have been. Perry Adams is nothing if not lavish with his money when it comes to me. But I don’t want his money. I don’t want his gifts or his attention or his sweaty body pounding into me. I don’t want to be here, and as soon as Nox has what he wants, I’ll be out. Well, away from Perry Adams, anyway. Who knows who my next target will be. Now he’s brought me back to my homeland, the possibilities for him are endless.