Page 77 of Sunrise Malice

I let the moment drag. He’s off balance and afraid, and that’s a good thing. I want him nervous and terrified of what I might do. Most normal people are terrified of men like me, and I’m guessing Bruce has even more first-hand knowledge of what it’s like to work with the crime families than most people do.

He’s a businessman. He owns a string of car dealerships on the edge of town, most of which make good money, but he ran into some financial difficulties in the last year or so. I don’t know the details—those weren’t in the ledger Jean decoded—but what I do know is Bruce took a very big sum of money from Dusan Petrovic, and now he’s deep in the fucking hole.

“I want to offer you a deal.” I cross my hands behind my back, close to my gun. I don’t know how desperate this man is, but I’m not taking any chances. He comes off like a normal asshole in way over his head, but who knows how far he might take it.

“What kind of deal?”

“You’re going to do a favor for me. In exchange, I’m going to make your debts go away.”

He pales and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I can’t, I mean, I’m paying?—”

“You still owe six million. You’ve made some payments, but they’ve been small and barely cover the interest Dusan’s charging. We both know if you keep stringing him along, sooner or later he’s going to get tired of pushing you, and he’s going todo something drastic. Like steal all your cars or maybe cut your throat.”

Bruce takes another long drink. “How can you help?”

“It’s very simple. All I need is for you to tell Dusan that you have the money and you want to pay him, but you need a meeting to discuss terms first. Invite him somewhere safe and comfortable, but somewhere out of the way. Somewhere private.”

Bruce nods slowly, staring at me. “And then?”

“And then you don’t ever worry about having to pay him back again.”

He leans back. I watch the gears turn. He’s considering, but he knows damn well that getting involved with me could be just as bad as getting involved with Petrovic.

And I don’t give a damn. I’m being kind right now, but if he doesn’t do what I’m telling him, I have other ways to convince him.

“Nothing illegal,” he says very softly. “I don’t want to be involved in a—in a—you know, in a?—”

“Murder?” My eyebrows raise. “You took millions of dollars from a gangster. I think you’re far beyond the pale already, Mr. Sanders.”

He stares at his drink before he throws the rest of it back. His teeth crunch down on ice. “I’ll do it,” he says, his voice trembling.

“Wonderful.” I give him my best smile. “And if you fuck me, I’ll come back, and I’ll kill your family. Was that your wife out there?Should I go introduce myself?” I turn and give him a good view of the gun.

“No!” He jumps to his feet. “No, please. They don’t know.”

I hold up a hand. “Okay, no need to panic. We’ll keep this between us for now.” I move closer to him, lowering my voice. “But if you fuck me, if you reach out to Dusan and tell him about this meeting, if you do anything that might compromise my plans, I will come here, and I will cut your wife’s throat. Do you hear me? She will die slowly.”

“I understand.” He’s sweating freely as he hurries to the door and unlocks it. “Please, you should go.”

“I’ll be in touch soon.”

I leave his house. I hear him whispering to his wife as I go, trying to reassure her that nothing’s wrong, but poor Bruce’s life just flipped on its head.

Chapter 33

Brianne

I’m up early the next morning. Julien’s still asleep—he came home late and looked like he’d gotten run over by a truck. I want to let him get as much rest as I possibly can, and so I’m quiet when I brush my teeth and do my usual morning routine.

Then I cook him breakfast.

Our suite has a small kitchen. It’s more like one of those long-stay hotel rooms with a tiny kitchenette than an actual master bedroom. I had the mansion staff stock the refrigerator, and I spend a while chopping onions, peppers, and mushrooms for omelets. I get the coffee going, make some toast, and I’m almost finished by the time he appears in the doorway to the bedroom, his dark hair tousled and beautiful, shirtless and muscular and obscenely handsome.

It’s almost not fair, honestly.

How attractive this man can be straight out of bed.

“What’s all this?” he grunts as he comes over and kisses my cheek. “You’re cooking?”

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