Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
But being caught was never really on my radar. I hadn’t spent years in the military being a sniper, taking out high-value targets all over the world without ever being caught through pure luck. Sure, the government had been backing me, but they’d made it very clear during my training that if I fucked up and was found out, they’d disavow me and leave me on my own.
I was just purely good at what I did.
And just like my hundreds of jobs before this one, this target would be taken out just as easily.
By the end of the week, there would be one less crooked billionaire in the world.
CHAPTER 2
Solace
My platform boots thumped across the pristine, white, tiled floors of my father’s office building as I made my way across the thirty-first floor to his office. The man and I had a very strong love/hate relationship. He was a piece of shit who’d abused my mother for years until I finally convinced her to leave him when I was a teen. The only reason I hadn’t cut all ties with him was because he had me as an off-book employee doing a job that paid exceptionally well, allowing me to keep my mentally unwell mother in therapy and have a live-in nurse around the clock.
As soon as I’d graduated high school, my father had cut my mother off. When I’d confronted him, so angry I’d brought a gun with me because she was losing the healthcare she desperately needed, he’d made me a deal all while I pointed that gun at his head, ready to blow his brains all over the wall.
He had numerous enemies, and every time he turned around, another was coming out of the woodwork. If he sent me to assassin school and I agreed to take out the targets he gave me, he’d pay me tens of thousands of dollars for each target I took out, which would in turn allow me to take care of my mother without having to worry about finances.
The deal had been too fucking good to pass up, but I’d made one stipulation. Until my first kill was made and I was paid, he had to continue depositing money into her bank account so she was taken care of while I was away. He’d begrudgingly agreed, which just showed his desperation to have someone like me at his disposal.
Now, years later, here we were.
I didn’t bother knocking as I pushed open the door to his office. My father scowled at me, his jowls jiggling as he turned his head to glare at me. Someone in a very expensive suit and about ten years younger than my father was sitting in the chair across from him, and he looked a mix of shocked and appalled at my interruption.
I lifted my wrist, glancing at the time on my Rolex. I was right on time, which meant, once again, my father was cutting into my time, which was valuable, even if he didn’t seem to think so.
“You told me to be here at two,” I reminded him as I lifted my tatted hand to push my black and blonde hair out of my face. “I’m here at two on the dot, so your little meeting—” I jerked my thumb toward the door— “is over.”
Dad’s face reddened beneath his horrible spray tan, but instead of arguing with me like I knew he wanted to do, he instead turned to face the man he’d been conversing with. Good thing. He knew as well as I did that I’d walk right the fuck back out. He’d tried testing me once, and it’d damn near cost him his life when the target he’d wanted taken out had gotten too close.
He’d learned a valuable lesson that day. I did not play about my schedule. My time would not be messed with, and I would get the respect I demanded from him.
“Mr. Creed, we’ll have to finish this at a later date,” my father apologized begrudgingly. “I forgot I made a very important appointment with my daughter.” Being referred to as his daughter made my stomach turn, but I pushed those feelings down. I was doing this for Mom. She was what mattered.
Mr. Creed’s irritated face smoothed when he realized I was family. Seemed the man had some decency about him.
“Ah, I understand. Family is important, Mr. Dukes.” Standing, Mr. Creed held his hand out to my father. It took my father a moment to push himself up from his creaking desk chair, but he finally did, shaking Mr. Creed’s hand with a forced smile.
“I’ll have my assistant reach out to yours and schedule another time for a meeting that fits in both of our schedules.”
“Sounds good.” Mr. Creed turned, inclined his head to me respectfully, then left the room.
Once the door was shut behind him, I cocked my hip, crossing my arms over my chest as I tapped my combat boot against the floor. “Well?” I asked. “What do you have for me? I know this isn’t a social call. We don’t do those.”