Page 90 of Philly
“Dumb bitch,” he snarled.
“You have a surprising lack of vocabulary for an international businessman,” she replied, keeping her knife behind her back. His eyes narrowed. She cocked her head and studied him—or pretended to. “I admit, you’re an interesting man, Aiden Nolan. You’ve piqued my curiosity. About two things in particular. Perhaps you’ll enlighten me?” she said. She already knew enough about his financial crimes, sexual predation, and funding of terrorists that she didn’t need to cover that ground.
He snorted.
“Indulge me,” she said. She took his silence as an opportunity. “First, why would you think you could take on a highly trained former federal agent, and second, did you send Agent Elizabeth Lightfoot to her death?”
The corners of his mouth curled up a fraction. “Your FBI BFF? I had nothing to do with that.” She raised an eyebrow in doubt. He shrugged, then smirked. “I might have mentioned to a few people that I heard from a contact in your beloved Bureau that she was looking into the ON. What they did with that information isn’t my concern.”
Anger as hot as a blue flame flared through her body. But it didn’t distract her. It fueled her.
“And Annette Bain?” she asked, naming the young woman she believed had been helping Liza.
He made a dismissive gesture, a combination between a small shrug and a tip of his chin. “I hear the girl wasn’t good at lying. And I hear Maraud is excellent at manipulation. How else would a man of less-than-humble-origins build what’s little more than a cult? The truth isn’t the only kind of information that can be leaked.”
“Maraud fed her misinformation that she passed on to Agent Lightfoot. Both were sent to their death.”
“Betrayal is a costly gamble, Agent Parks. Poor little Annette thought she was taking her new friend to an ON meeting at the club that night.”
“And instead, they walked into a terrorist attack. For someone who claims to not know anything, you’re awfully well-informed,” Callie said.
“Knowledge is power, as they say,” Aiden said.
The underbrush rustled. Not loud enough for Aiden to hear, not over the rush of water at the bottom of the cliff, but enough to reassure her that her cavalry had arrived. Behind her back, she signaled for them to hold off. Silence followed.
“Speaking of knowledge,” she said, “what made you think that you could take on a highly trained former federal agent? Or why you’d even want to try when the information I have on you won’t die with me?”
He took a step to his left. She didn’t take her eyes off him. “You don’t have shit on me.”
She could enlighten him but chose not to; it wouldn’t serve her purpose.
“It’s your ego, isn’t it? Because Gabriel and I managed to not only evade your hitman but to chase him down?” Aiden’s shoulders came back, and he glared at her. The dark chuckle that left her body wasn’t forced. “You spoke of gambles, Aiden. This is a big one to take. You used to be a fit man. A black belt in karate, a recreational—though excellent—skeet shooter. You even ran a few marathons back in the day. Youused to bea lot of things. Things you aren’t anymore.”
His jaw clenched, and he took a step back. He wouldn’t step off the cliff, but he was inching closer than she felt comfortable with.
“I told that hothead that when he went for you and fucking Gabriel Walker, he’d have to be fast and sure. Walker and his goddamn team ruined my plans all those years ago. I knew what a sneaky fuck he was. If Bruce didn’t get Walker on the first try, he was as good as dead. Andrea swore he’d do the job. I shouldn’t have believed the bitch.”
Her mind fired in rapid sequence as Aiden’s words filled her head. That his connection to the hitman had come through Andrea Giodani and not the two FBI agents they’d ID’d as dirty was notable, but nausea roiled through her at his bigger implication. “You hired those men to kidnap your own wife.”
“Like I said, betrayal is a gamble, Agent Parks. My dearly departed wife gambled and lost. Perhaps not how I intended, but she lost in the end when she took her own life.”
Because of the terror he’d put her through. Then again, Aiden had hired a hitman to kill his own son; she shouldn’t be surprised.
“She knew about your business practices and was going to turn on you,” Callie said. Not a question, but the taunting smile that touched Aiden’s lips confirmed her words. “Joseph knew nothing, though. Why go after your own son?”
“Now you’re getting greedy, Agent Parks. You want to know why I came after youandmy own son? I already told you about your BFF; you only get one more question.”
She studied him, his blue eyes, so similar to Rian’s, glinting in the moonlight. He had a plan. He wouldn’t have a chance to execute it, but he’d find that out soon enough.
She paused, an idea catching. Her eyes traced Aiden’s body, tall, though not as tall as Rian, and blond hair, gone dark with age, then to gray. And it all clicked together.
“Joseph isn’t your biological son, is he? His life was useful to you in some ways. He’s charming and puts your potential customers at ease. Builds relationships that you don’t have the skills to and that Rian doesn’t have the interest in. He’s not involved in the details, but he’s a treasure trove of information about the business—who you’ve met with, what deals you’ve won and those you’ve lost. Once he started talking to me, though, the one person who could put two and two together, he became a liability. So you took care of the problem. Or tried to.”
“Joseph had the intelligence of a two-year-old and the naivete of a panda,” Aiden spat.
“He’s not dead, Aiden. Whatever qualities you think he had, he still has them,” she reminded him. Well, she hoped he’d still have them when he recovered. Joseph Nolan was a rare creature who saw wonder everywhere and who inspired it in others.
“As nice as this little chat has been?—”
