Page 16 of Bratva Butcher

We went to the same boarding school, so he knew Talon and I did not get along. Knew our history. He couldn’t possibly know that our animosity had continued to fester over the years, though, getting worse and worse like a deep, infected wound.

We weren’t close enough for him to be privy to such details, and yet he’d managed to figure out that out of all my enemies, Talon would be the one to enjoy my downfall the most.

“Well, here’s your chance to make up for it.” The arrogance fled from Talon’s face, replaced with the utmost seriousness. “Name your price.”

“Five million.”

“Done,” Talon answered with zero hesitation. He glanced over his shoulder to one of his guards. “Send the money.”

Anger thundered through me, but I said nothing. I would give neither of them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Dominik smiled widely. I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever seen him so happy. “Nothing to say, brother? Even now? You’re not going to beg me to save your life? Hmm?”

There would be no point,I thought to myself, still refusing to say a word. I was mildly surprised he’d decided to sell me instead of keeping me as his own personal punching bag. He hated me and loved causing me pain. It had shown with every single punch and slice he’d inflicted on my body. But the money must have been too good for him to pass up. With that kind of cash, he’d be able to hire more people to work for him and build his own empire, since he would never be given mine.

Talon’s eyes sliced to Autumn, who had remained quiet the entire time. Interest sparked in his gaze before he quickly shut it down. “How much for the woman?”

“You want her?” Dominik asked, surprised. His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Why not?” Talon shrugged. He was trying to play off like he couldn’t care less if he got her or not. That this was simply an opportunity that had fallen into his lap. But I could see there was more to it than that.

I’d spent a lifetime learning how to read people. Catching those tiny micro-expressions that revealed what they were truly feeling. It was a…speciality of mine, you could say. A deeply trained skill.

Beneath the interest, there was something else there. Something…more. If I had to guess, I’d say it was recognition.

I glanced at Autumn. She didn’t look any different. It could very well be a façade, though. She’d already proved to be a devious woman.

“I’ll give you her for free under one condition.” He stood taller, puffing out his chest. “When the time comes, I want to be there to watch her die. To watchbothof them die.”

Talon flashed his teeth in a broad smile. “Deal.”

Chapter Six

Autumn DeValos

“Mmm, you seriously notgoing to eat? It’s so good,” I mumbled, bending forward to slurp the gravy off my fingers. Dimitri gave me a disgusted look, his nose scrunched up in repulsion. I got the feeling eating food without a knife and fork was a serious offence to him.

Mr Uppity was too good for that, apparently.

The roar of the engine from the private jet rumbled beneath my feet. The air smelt clean, the seats so comfy that I swear I could have fallen asleep right there and then.

I knew nothing good could possibly come from it. I didn’t know the guy—Talon, I’d heard Dimitri call him—but whoever he was, he must have been rolling in the cash.

During my time as a professional hitwoman, I’d been aboard a fair few private planes. This one, though, had to be the best by far. I didn’t own one, personally—the upkeep for somethinglike that wasinsane. However, with the right identification and enough cash, it was fairly easy to charter one.

Over the course of my career, I’d only had to do it a handful of times. Mainly when the mark was in a different country, and there was a pressing time limit to adhere to.

Ordinarily, I liked to have at least a month or so to do reconnaissance. Learn the mark’s routine. It made it easier to achieve a clean, effective kill.

Every now and then, though, a job would arise as “high priority”, meaning it needed to be completed as soon as possible. I liked those jobs for one reason and one reason only…

I could charge more for them.

“You eat like a goddamn barbarian,” Dimitri commented, his nose high in the air with a very “hoity-toity” attitude.

He was sitting right next to me, strapped down in the seat by a mountain of chains, just like I was. A table sat in front of us, completely overflowing with food. All different kinds of meats, roasted potatoes, vegetables, salads. It was like a damn smorgasbord.

Of course, I was skeptical at first. What if it was laced with something? What if it was poisoned?

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