“This isn’t a place for a young lady like yourself.” He waves at the other man, and he lowers the gun.
I take a couple of steps forward until I reach the desk he’s sitting behind.
“That’s true, but I’m here with a purpose.”
“Which is?” He chuckles.
While holding eye contact, I grab my phone and automatically find the picture of the bullet that I sent myself from Hudson’s phone. I place it on the table and push it toward him.
He picks it up, still holding my gaze before flicking his eyes to the picture. It’s only for a split second, but his brows crease, and that’s enough for me to know.
“What about it?”
“Did you make it?”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Why should I tell you?”
“That bullet was found inside of the body of a very important and dangerous person. All I need is the name of the person who had these made.”
“If it was found in a body, then there’s no reason for me to tell you anything.”
I grin. “Oh, he’s very much alive. You’re lucky that I came here instead of him, though. He would’ve killed you before you even got the chance to negotiate. I’m here to offer you a deal.”
He snorts, and I know I’ve lost his attention.
“A deal? I don’t make deals, young lady. I work for money.”
In an instant, I raise the hand holding the gun and aim it at the man on my left. He’s certain I won’t shoot and raises a brow at me. He’s challenging me and despite knowing that it’s nothing more than bait, I bite and pull the trigger.
The bullet lands between his eyes and after a second, he falls to the floor with a thud.
“As I was saying.” I straighten my back and tuck the gun away. “Strike a deal with me or end up decapitated.”
“What kind of deal?”
His voice is rougher, his eyes sharper. He’s pissed off because, from what I’ve observed, he doesn’t have a weapon on him. The closest one is a rifle that’s too far for him to reach without being detected.
“Tell me who made the bullets and live. Don’t tell me, and… Well, you can figure out the rest.”
“I can’t tell you that,” he says and slowly puts out the cigar. He’s tapping his finger impatiently against the desk, contemplating his choices here. Then, he stands up and starts pacing around the room.
He’s too predictable; it's almost funny.
“Rest assured, I’ll find your buyer without your help. Though it would speed up the process if you helped.”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Really? That’s the lie you’re going with?”
He whips his head toward me and stares with something that goes beyond irritation and annoyance, but it’s not quite anger. If he is angry, then it’s at himself for being discovered.
He takes a sharp intake of breath. “You’re acting like a brat. If you kill me, he’ll just find someone else to make the bullets for him.”
“And I’ll find all of them. Someone is bound to open their mouth.”
“All I know is that his goal is the destruction of the De Santis’ and the Campbells.”
I raise my hand with a cheeky grin. “Noelle Campbell here. I’m aware, but that’s not what I’m asking you.”