Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Bullshit, the asshole has to live somewhere.”
“My guys have limited visibility, and this is what they’re reporting.”
“Then are they idiots,” I snapped. “Are you an idiot?”
Octavio turned quiet. “No, sir.”
“Because it seems like you’re a fucking idiot to me.” Everyone in the room turned to look at us once they realized I was officially an angry bull.
Octavio stilled.
“I’m tired of the bullshit. I’m tired of the excuses. I want this asshole on a fucking dinner plate. Do you understand me?”
“Yes—”
“Or do I have to go to France and search the whole fucking place with a fine-tooth comb?”
“I’ll figure it out, Theo.”
“Good.” I left the table and stormed off. “Now get off your ass and do it.”
All the guys left their beers at the tables and got up, even though it was a job for just a couple people, but it was better to look busy than look lazy.
I took the passageway and stepped into the kitchen, the place smelling like disinfectants rather than food after the restaurant closed. I walked into the dining area, sat at one of the tables with a white tablecloth, and lit up a cigar.
The dark street was empty of cars. Everyone was at home, tucked into their warm beds, while men like me crawled out of their hiding places like fucking cockroaches. It’d been a rough week. Now that I’d lost the woman I wanted, I had nothing to occupy my mind other than revenge.
I needed it more than ever.
My phone lit up from a text from Andrea. Nice to hear from you. It’s been a while.
Been busy. Busy wasting my fucking time.
No man is too busy for me, so there must have been a special someone these last few months.
You want to fuck or not?
Sure. But I should tell you my rates went up since we last spoke.
That’s fine.
They’re double what they used to be.
Good.
But the first one’s on the house. Call it the heartbreak special.
I let the screen go dark and enjoyed my cigar.
Axel grabbed his drink from the bar then sat in the chair across from me.
Before he could say anything, I fired off, “I got the fucking name.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t take a drink because he was immediately hooked on my words.
“Beau Draven.”
“What?”
“Yes.”
Axel sat in shock for a few seconds. “What the fuck—”
“So my brother is dead because of your piece of shit father-in-law,” I snapped. “So when his plan went to shit, he decided to be petty, so fucking petty that he came for my other half. None of this shit would have happened if Dante hadn’t decided to be a worthless scumbag. If Scarlett weren’t your fucking wife…” Motherfucker would be dead.
“Whoa, how do you know Bolton isn’t lying to you?”
“Why would he lie?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Because you fucked his wife?”
“He consented to it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m not sure you can trust anything he says.”
“We made a deal.”
“It’s not like he’s a man of honor,” he said. “Bolton and Beau both want you dead, so doesn’t this seem a little too convenient?”
“Why would he want me to focus on Beau when I’m already focused on him?”
“I don’t know. He could be setting you up. He offered to help you, right?”
I took a drink.
“I know you can’t think straight when it comes to Killian. I get it. But let’s be pragmatic here. You might be walking into a trap. He might be taking you straight to the wolf’s den to be ambushed.”
“Doesn’t that seem too obvious?”
“Reverse psychology. It is too obvious, which is why it’s not believable.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Even if you’re right, this is still Dante’s fault. And I want him hung from a noose.”
Axel dropped his gaze to his drink, the first sign of shame.
“Because that shithead thought he could cross us. Because he thought he was sooo fucking smart.”
Axel still wouldn’t look at me.
I was so pissed, there weren’t words to describe it. I wanted to scream and yell, even though it wasn’t Axel’s fault, at least not directly. If I’d just stayed out of his relationship problems, Killian would have been spared a premature, and probably painful, death.
Axel always ran his mouth, but now he didn’t have much to say.
I continued to glare at him across the table.
“All we have is Bolton’s word, and I don’t think that’s good enough.”
“It makes sense to me. Beau escaped, and, pissed off he didn’t get what Dante promised him, he comes for me. He comes for me in the most brutal way possible. All because I helped you. All because you called and I fucking answered.”
When Axel looked at me again, his stare was wounded. “Theo, I’m sorry—”
“You’re sorry?” I asked incredulously. “Maybe Dante made amends with you by patching shit up with your parents, but he can’t make amends with me. Not when my brother, my fucking twin, is dead because of him.”