Page 44 of Sardonic Burn

“Looking good, Noah.” He winks.

“I’m not here to chit-chat,” I shrug off the coat and hang it around my chair. “Let’s just jump straight to business, shall we?”

Lucas pouts. “You’re no fun. Come on, we haven’t seen each other in what? Five, six weeks? Quite a lot of things have happened with you in that small timeframe.”

I snort and sip on the beer. “Why don’t you skip beating around the bush and ask what you want to know?”

His eyes twinkle in excitement. “What in the world possessed you to agree to work with a De Santis? And that treaty thing?” He whistles in disbelief. “I thought I heard it wrong.”

“The news travels fast.”

“Sure does.” He nods. “Someone snitched. And tracking down your newly found enemies makes it ten times harder. If they’re smart—and I’m assuming they have at least a brain cell or two—they’ll go into hiding.”

I start devouring the food in front of me. I haven’t eaten for a whole day, and I didn’t feel the hunger until I actually saw the food in front of me. The divine smell compelled me entirely, and I devoured my portion of the dinner within five minutes.

“Well.” I wipe the side of my mouth with a napkin. “It’s still not impossible. And I do believe they’ll ease on the attacks now that the two families are working together.”

“Who knows?” He shrugs and glances around us. “The fact remains, we don’t have their name, let alone their face. Has Cecilia been helpful?”

I texted her earlier in the day, asking if she’d heard back from her father regarding the custom bullets. The answer was less than satisfying, and I’m back at square zero.

“She has no idea who might want the bullets, but I’m assuming that’s their way of marking the territory.”

“As expected,” he mumbles. “I only have an address of the man who is known to be making that kind of thing, but I’m not sure about his name, age, or affiliation to the new group. You need to be careful, alright?”

I nod. “Show me.”

He pulls out a file from his bag, and I immediately grab it, reading it carefully.

There is an address that is on the other side of the city. There are a few anonymous comments left, mainly people happy with the services this person provided. At first glance, it seems like a regular website, though I know how to read between the lines.

I look back up at Lucas. “Do I want to know how you obtained these?”

“You really don’t.” He chuckles. “But I guarantee that every piece of information I present you with is reliable and true.”

My brows knit together. “I wasn’t doubting your abilities.”

“You better not.” He grins. “I’m the best at what I do.”

Lucas and I met in our first year at university. He was the person known for his hacking skills. For a price, he would do anything. I needed information quickly, and I had a lot of cash at my disposal.

He worked quickly, efficiently, and in secret. That’s what made me return to him many times over the course of the pastfew years, and we quickly became friends. His work is illegal, so he’d never stab me in the back—not with the information I have on him.

“Sure you are,” I respond with an eye roll. “Is there anything else that’s not written here?”

Lucas clenches his jaw and slowly nods. He takes a swig of the beer and a deep breath before inching closer to me over the table. I mimic his movements and turn my head to the side, inspecting if anyone’s been tailing us.

“I don’t know if the two are related,” he whispers. “But at the same time as this new family started with their business, another trafficking ring appeared.”

Slowly, I turn to look at him with wide eyes.

The De Santis family doesn’t often involve themselves with sex trafficking rings. The Campbells do. Although we haven’t taken down every single organization there is, the moment I find out one does exist, I do whatever it takes to free the women, men, and children in the rings. I don’t care about the means I use, and I do not care how I obtain information.

My morals and consciousness do not allow me to stay put or remain silent. I’m someone who holds power and has enough of it to save countless innocent lives. I’d rather give up my family name than ever allow a ring on my turf or in my city to operate.

“You should’ve started with that.” I fist my hands. “Tell me everything and don’t fucking miss a thing.”

“On the night Luciella Campbell was killed, four women were kidnapped in different parts of New York. The CCTV footage didn’t cover the areas where they were last seen by witnesses, and their appearances were more or less similar. Long, brown hair and big, brown eyes.”

---