Page 22 of Cruel Crown

“Suit, jeans, freeballing, I can kill a man ten different ways in a heartbeat.”

Bastian snorted while Damian glared.

He opened the button on his jacket, then sat down.

“There’s a lot I still don’t understand about what happened in Colombia after I left.”

It wasn’t accusatory, but he was asking to see if I said something different than what he was told. According to Bastian, he took care of loose ends, and his loose ends and mine tied together.

“We got attacked, the rival soldiers probably found the Estacado girl, and when Sergio didn’t find her, he tried to blame me. We fought, and I killed him. In the jungle, I found Bastian, who I thought had gone away.” I felt Bastian glare at me but ignored him. “I got us a ride out.”

“Interesting,” he mused.

He didn’t intimidate me, but I knew I had to play by his rules—for now. Spreading my arms on the sofa, I spoke again.

“So, what do I have to do to get in? And will Daphne be an issue again? Because she’s a petty fucking bitch, and I thought the Sekt was above that.”

His demeanor went icy at the mention of her name. There was some bad blood between them, and I would find out why.

“She won’t be an issue, or do you want her to be one?”

He pierced me with his dark eyes full of hate, testing to see what I would say or do.

“As long as she stays out of my way, we won’t have any issues. Alive, dead, she’s of no importance to me.”

He seemed to think my answer over. “I thought you had a history. My apologies.”

Damian wasn’t sorry for shit, and I knew he was just fishing. I smiled at him. “I met her as Yorovich’s whore, and she tried to seduce me to get her way. When that didn’t work, she became enraged. Whores, right?”

Damian didn’t say more, but there was a tiny tilt to his lips. Arrogant bastard.

“Well, should we get down to business?”

“Please, I’ve been still for too long. I’m getting twitchy.”

“Very well.” Damian got up and fixed the button on the lapel of his jacket. “I want Morozov’s head. You have five days.”

He then turned around to walk away but stopped to face Bastian.

“I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out it was you who betrayed her.” It sounded a lot like glee in Damian’s voice. I took a deep breath so I could keep calm.

“I’m loyal to the Sekt, not to her,” Bastian said with a cruel smile.

“Get him up to speed. See you at headquarters…maybe.”

Yeah, if I lived because if I failed to kill Morozov, I would die, and I bet that’s why Bas was staying with me.

As soon as I heard the doors close, I opened my mouth to speak.

“What—fuck,” I yelped when Bas threw a knife by my shoulder. He had his fingers to his lips, telling me to shut up. I removed the blade from where it stabbed the sofa while Bas looked through the couch as he retraced Damian’s steps.

“You can’t trust your own leader?” I asked when he walked back.

“It’s complicated.”

“No, mate, it’s not. If I fail, you have to kill me, don’t you?”

“Try not to fail. I’d hate to kill such a pretty face.”

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