Page 48 of Reclaiming Adelaide

The men laughed as Sarkis took it.

“You want to contract our negotiation, so we don’t kill your girlfriend?”

I shook my head. “I said outline, not a contract. That way, there’s no confusion about what I’m asking of you.”

“You’re not really in the position to be asking for anything, especially after you broke Berat’s arm and sliced the throat of one of my new operatives. He’ll live, by the way.”

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my fist, popping my knuckles with the pressure. “I know. That’s why I cut the side of his neck and not his jugular.”

“Where is my compensation for my two men you put out of commission?”

“I didn’t know what was going on at the time, and they didn’t bother to share when they shoved her in the trunk. So I took matters into my own hands.” I paused and opened my copy of the deal. “Now, we both want something, and I’m willing to do whatever means necessary to make sure that happens.”

“And what is it you can offer me?”

“A trade.”

He laughed again, turning to the blond man at his side. “And here I thought you were here to protect her. What do you want in exchange?”

“Not her.” I shook my head. “The leader of Cryptonic.”

“And what makes you think we need your help?” He stepped forward, the paper by his side.

“If you knew how to find him. You would’ve already. Am I wrong?”

He scratched his chin, then cleared his throat. “Go on?”

“With me on your side, along with my tools, I can find him.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll hand him over, ensure Adelaide never touches your company again, and in exchange, you leave her be.”

He passed the paper to the blond beside him, who opened the manila folder and examined the contents. His men spread out across the hanger as if they prepared for something, their itchy trigger fingers tucked inside the trigger guard.

My muscles hardened in place, setting my fists like stone.

If this was it, and they opened fire, it guaranteed me a dirt nap. I imagined that’s why they didn’t bother patting me down.

Armenians were a fierce breed who believed death with purpose was the only way to go. Not all, but most. When you dealt with people who weren’t afraid of death but more or less welcomed it, it was hard to intimidate them or make an accurate reactive assessment.

“Offer us something else,” the blond man said.

“And who are you?”

“Yervant.”

“Well, Yervant, this is my offer.”

Yervant and Sarkis glanced at one another, then back to me. “We want discounted prices on weapons and anything else you can get.”

I scoffed and rubbed my jaw. “I’m a broker. We don’t make the prices; the seller does. We just bring the seller and buyer together.”

“Make an exception,” Sarkis said.

I shook my head. “You don’t understand.” Pinpricks scattered up my spine. What he was asking of me was impossible. “I don’t have control over the prices. They aren’t my weapons.”

“Then no deal.”

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