Page 76 of Alpha Bait

"She's my sister. And she's tainted our bloodline by even entertaining the likes of you. For that alone, she deserves to die."

"You're one sick motherfucker," Ames said.

I laughed again.

"I suppose I am. I'm also about to become the richest man in bioinformatics in the world. Your bloodline will be wasted to a few sniveling idiots who could barely make it through Cornell. Meanwhile, I will carry on my father's legacy for generations to come."

Watching another one of Richard Carmichael II's sons sniveling before me brought me pleasure. My father would be proud. I'd managed to not only follow his legacy, but I'd been strong in all the ways he'd been weak. He'd let a white man push him around like he was nothing. He'd allowed Richard to steal his technology and to build an empire on his back. He'd died because of his weakness -- and he'd died a weak old man at that.

My father had never made the tough calls and even after he'd acquired his wealth he'd refused to put it to good use.

I wouldn't make his mistakes. I wouldn't let the city crawl with dirty Carmichaels, each one looking to squeeze profits out of work that had been my father's from the beginning. Anyone who sided with them could easily be removed. When the company was buried beneath its own inadequacies, only then could I honor my father's death.

This was my duty as his son and there was nothing personal about it.

Ames interrupted my passing thought.

"If you think you can run a business like a tyrant, you're wrong."

His condescension was beginning to annoy me. This was a waste of time. This pathetic man had no right to call me a tyrant. I was a survivor, a revolutionary who refused to allow his father's work to be stolen and abused. History would understand me.

"I'm sorry Ames, but I really don't have time for this."

I fired. The silencer on my new weapon proved particularly effective. I barely heard the bullet. The noise was a small cracking and then the searing puncturing sound of the bullet breaking through Ames' flesh. I shot him again in the head and in the stomach to be certain. He crumpled to the ceramic floor of the tub, blood spilling into his bathtub as the water continued to pour from overhead.

It wasn't quite no muss no fuss. I turned the water off to the bathroom and left. Allowing a flood would have been gross.

I didn't bother cleaning his apartment, that was the precise reason I had installed the doorman downstairs. Everything would be taken care of and all I would have to do was search Ames documents and files. There was nothing physical, as I expected. I took his laptop and thumb drive before I left my men to do the dirty work of cleaning up.

As I got into my car and removed my leather gloves, I checked my suit for any stains. Thankfully, I made it out clean. My phone rang, and I felt a brief burst of irritation until I saw the number.

Donnie. I told him to call me if he had any word on Indie and only then. With glee, I answered to get the terrible news. My sister had died in a car accident. Her body had just been recovered and Donnie had it on pretty good word that Ames had been her accomplice.

He needed me to get downtown immediately.

I smiled.

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