The Tyrant (Banker 3)

“I don’t need to be careful. Micah already surrendered, and my men picked him up.”

“Where are you doing this?”

“Right outside my building.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Like, on the sidewalk where the public can see?”

“Yes. And no one will do a damn thing to stop it—because I can’t be stopped.” I pulled her into my chest and gave her a gentle hug, an embrace that wouldn’t aggravate my sore ribs. “I’ll see you soon.” I pulled away and headed to the door.

“Could you call me when you’re on your way back?”

I turned back to her, seeing the genuine concern written all over her face. One night, I was supposed to come home, but I never did. My car didn’t make it. I’d been abducted against my will and tortured. “I promise.”

“I love you.” Her green eyes looked into mine, beaming and bright. Like two stars, they shone brighter than the heavens. Her eyes full of unconditional love and devotion, the loyalty was written all over her face.

Every time she said those words to me now, I said them back. “I love you too, baby.”

“How are we doing this?” Bates asked from beside me in the car. “Who gets to do the stabbing?”

“Me. All me.” I wasn’t sharing the execution with anyone else. I was rumored to be a tyrant in this country. I had a reputation to live up to. “It’s for Siena’s father. Maybe he was a bad man, but he didn’t deserve to die that way.”

“Shit, no one deserves to die that way.” He looked out the window, wearing a black suit with a matching tie. “At least this will be over for good. We’ll get their cigar business and wipe their accounts. Easiest money I’ve ever made.”

I didn’t care about the money. I just cared about the revenge.

The car pulled up to the curb, and we stepped out.

I had the blade in my pocket, the one I was going to stab my enemy with.

“You’re sure you want to wear that?” Bates asked. “I think it’s about to get ruined.”

“Or it’s about to look better.”

We moved up the stairs to the front of the building. The metal pole had been set up by my men, and the noose dangled from the apparatus. I pulled the blade out of my pocket and held it at my side.

Bates noticed it. “I’m glad we made up…”

“Yeah, me too. I would hate to waste this knife on you.” It was three in the morning, and the streets were quiet. Only a few people passed on the sidewalk, and once they realized something serious was about to happen, they dispersed.

Probably didn’t want to be the next victim.

Micah stood off to the side with his wrists bound behind his back. Like a corpse, he was already dead in the eyes, knowing exactly what would happen to him once he was suspended from that rope. He would try not to yell out in pain, but when that knife was deep in his stomach, he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge. Like all men before him, he would break. And he would die a horrible death.

I walked up to him with my blade held at my side. “Last words?”

He stared at me with the same look of indifference, like I wasn’t worth his time. “Mercy.”

“You know I have to do this, Micah.”

“But you know where the artery is.” He referred to the large one right down his center, the big one that could kill him if it were severed in half. It would only take a few seconds.

“Did you show Stefan Russo mercy?” There was no way to know if his answer was truthful or not, but after being tortured by Damien, I suspected mercy had never been granted. Even after I gave them a truth, Damien still beat me into the ground.

“Damien was the one in charge of that.”

That gave me my answer. “So, no.” I turned to my men. “Get him up in the noose.”

“Let’s work out a deal,” Micah said. “I’m sure there’s something—”

“You tortured and killed my woman’s father. Asshole, there’s nothing you can say to stop this from happening. Shut up and have some dignity.”

My men put the rope around his neck then tightened it. Then they pulled on the level and raised him from the ground, slowly choking him as the rope constricted against his throat.

I gripped the blade in my hand and stared at my enemy, who was a foot higher than me so his stomach was eye level. “I won’t pretend I’m not going to enjoy this.”

18

Siena

I couldn’t sleep, not until Cato was home. He’d been taken from me once before, and until he walked through that door with those amazing blue eyes, I wouldn’t be able to relax. I had the baby monitor on my nightstand and the phone on my chest so I could be attentive to both.