Page 8 of The Boss

“Sir?”

“What do you know about my brother’s murder?”

He shifted from foot to foot.

I resisted driving him against the wall. Roughing up my employees wasn’t good for morale.

“Michael. I’m not going to ask you again. But if the answer is the same, meaning a lie, you will face the necessary consequences. I do hope you understand what I mean.” Everyone working in the club knew of my reputation. I was fair and respectful, but if you crossed me, my patience only provided for one chance before my anger took prominence.

“Yes. Yes, sir. I heard things, Mr. Nomikos.”

“What things?” I glanced at Christos. He was wringing his hands, itching to beat the man until he spouted off what he wanted to hear.

“That someone is out to destroy your family.” Michael almost choked on the words.

“Go on.”

The simple inhale of his breath indicated he was terrified. Of me or someone else? “I heard an assassin was hired, but it’s just talk. You know how people are.”

“An assassin. Really? Any names?”

“No names, but this dude goes by the Stalker?” He smiled as if it was a joke.

I’d heard the name tossed around for a few years. Supposedly, the unknown assassin was damn good at what he did, capable of eliminating whatever target was presented to him inside the most crowded of locations. “Who did you hear this from?”

“Several people. Rumors. I didn’t take them seriously.”

Perhaps the kid didn’t understand the world he’d insisted on being hired into. I slowly stood, towering over the young man by several inches. “Michael. It’s important you understand that if you hear anything like this again, you will come to me directly. Failure to do so will terminate our relationship. Do you understand?”

The kid was smart, instantly figuring out I didn’t mean tossing him out the door.

After swallowing, he nodded several times. “Yes, sir. I completely understand. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.”

“Excellent. Please do. Now, you can head back to the bar.”

After Michael left, I turned toward Christos.

“The Stalker?” he retorted. “Who the hell is that?”

“A specialized assassin and someone determined to ruin our lives, brother. But we’re not going to allow that to happen.”

No matter what needed to be done or how much blood was spilled.

CHAPTER 4

Dimitrios

Correct information was as valuable as wealth.

At least in the world of the Greek mafia.

Our family was said to be descended from the great Greek gods, meant for greatness. Our grandfather had insisted the story was accurate, even detailing ancient times. While I’d never believed a word, he’d never wavered until the day he’d dropped dead at age ninety-six.

Our family was supposed to be predestined to live long and happy lives.

My other brother Havros had been called back from a business meeting in Paris, the news hitting him as hard as it had Christos. My night had been fitful, alternating between the desire to burn down the city and wait by the phone. With my mother in hysterics, my need to track down Leandro’s killer would be the highest priority no matter what other business needed handling.

I’d reached out to every source used over the years in my determination to find the true identity of the assassin known as the Stalker. His acts had become somewhat legendary, foreign law enforcement in almost every country seeking his identity after murders had occurred in their localities. Granted, the majority of those the assassin had supposedly killed were drug lords or weapons smugglers, but a few had been prominent citizens.

---