Page 71 of Cruel Promise

“Get him in the car,” Anton ordered.

With Jose and the driver’s help, they forced me to stand and shoved me into the car. Blood seeped down my face, staining my white shirt. That was all I could think about—how I would never wear this white shirt again. It was ruined for good.

The driver got into the front seat.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked him. “Why help Anton betray me?”

He didn’t respond.

Out of the window, I watched as Anton shot Jose in the head. Then I watched him set fire to the vans containing all our guns.

“What are you doing?” I growled as Anton got into the passenger seat, keeping his gun trained on me. “You just wasted millions of dollars.”

“I’m not doing things your way anymore, Nik.”

The driver started the car and pulled away from the crime scene. Border patrol would find the two men and the burned guns. It would be all over the news. The only good thing would be it wouldn’t fall back onto me. Anton wouldn’t want to get caught in the crosshairs.

“By wasting money?”

Anton shrugged. “Not everything is about money.”

“Bullshit. You run on money, Anton.”

“Not your money, Nik. I want a fresh start when I take over New York.”

I didn’t react. I went quiet and bided my time, ignoring the searing pain on my face.

I still didn’t act, not even when we reached the private plane we came in on. Not even when Anton forced me inside it. Not even when we landed back in New York.

Not even when he took me to his home. His basement was designed to be a torture chamber. Knives and guns and whips and even fucking chainsaws. Anton was a bit of a madman. It worked for me when he was on my side. Now that he wasn’t, it was the first time I’d ever felt fear in my entire life.

The driver lifted my hands up to handcuff them to the wall.

And that was when I acted.

I kicked him in the balls, sending him straight to the ground. Anton, who was too busy looking at his knife collection and getting cocky, didn’t turn in time before I barreled right into him.

I landed on top of him and grabbed his wrist, twisting it until he dropped the gun.

He sat up and bit into my ear. My fucking ear.

I roared as he pulled back, blood dripping from his lips. Then I grabbed his head and smashed it against the ground.

He went still.

I stumbled upright and grabbed the gun, aiming it at his body. Anton still wasn’t moving. I should have shot him right then and there, but I hesitated. Maybe it was stupid sentimentality on my part. We had worked together for years. I’d trusted him.

I’d thought of him as a friend.

But he’d betrayed me.

And yet, I still couldn’t shoot, so I left.

I continued to stumble through his mansion. Pass the gaudy statues he had everywhere. Pass the poor maid just trying to doher job. She screamed when she saw me and went running up the stairs. Not my problem.

I didn’t stop until I was in the foyer and saw myself in the large gilded mirror on the wall.

I finally saw my face.

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