Page 73 of Devious Kingpin
That’s why I left my bride, warm in my bed, so I could hop on my goddamned private jet and come here myself. If you wanted shit done right, you had to do it yourself.
It was close to midnight when I entered the former senator’s home. Travis’s old man was the senator who was found in his office almost a decade ago, his pants down and his dick cut off and shoved in his mouth. It had caused quite a stir amongst politicians in power back then. Turned out the fucker had a thing for young girls. There was speculation that one of his victims’ relatives had killed him. The killer was never found, but it made his widow paranoid.
She should have been more paranoid about keeping her son on a leash.
Like father, like son.
The background check showed that the widow remarried but her paranoia remained. Hence the excessive amount of security.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Konstantin.*Cut the security.*
It took ten seconds and the reply was back.*Security down.*
Not bad for an old man,I thought wryly. I made my way through the gate and across the expansive lawn, sticking to the shadows. I entered the home through a side entrance, the door unlocked. Disadvantages of iHome and having it depend on electronic security.
It was quiet, as was to be expected. Light streamed into the foyer from the living room, and I followed it, my combat boots silent against the marble.
I stopped at the arched doorway, my lips curving into a cruel smile.Talk about luck, I thought smugly.
The prick with blond, matted hair sat sprawled on the couch, his feet on the coffee table as he shoved popcorn into his mouth. His cheap beer sat next to his feet, disregarding the coaster that sat beside it.
A sardonic breath left me. The fucker was almost thirty and he couldn’t even use his mother’s coaster.
“Yes,” he shouted at the television. “To the left. Damn you, to the left.” A college football game played on television. An old one. This fucker barely graduated college and still lived as if he were the proverbial big man on campus. What a dick.
“Florida wins,” I remarked coldly. He whipped his head around, his eyes meeting mine. “Just in case you’re wondering, since you’re going to miss the second half.”
He scrambled to his feet, the popcorn falling silently all over the rug. Fucking slob.
Before he could run, I pulled out my gun, the silencer already on and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through his palm, blowing it apart. Blood and flesh splattered everywhere. He roared in agony, but before he could hit a higher note, I had my hand over his mouth.
His screamed muffled, I clicked my tongue.
“Now, now,” I drawled. “You don’t want to wake up your mommy and step-daddy. Do you?”
His eyeballs popped out of their sockets, staring at me. What a miserable excuse for a human.
“Do you know who I am?” I purred in a low voice, keeping my rage at bay. At least until I got this fucker into a basement where I’d relish in his screams. He shook his head frantically, his eyes full of terror.
I grinned menacingly. “I’m your worst fucking nightmare, Travis.”
Then I knocked him out cold.
An hour later, I was in the basement of one of Illias Konstantin’s buildings in downtown Los Angeles. When I pulled up out front, he was there waiting for me.
His hands in his pockets, he casually leaned against the frame of the door, his sharp eyes on me.
I jumped out of the car and strode to him. “You didn’t have to welcome me,” was my greeting to him. “Don’t you have a pregnant wife to tend to? Or have the babies already come?”
His expression filled with amusement. “It takes nine months for babies to cook,” he replied coolly. “We have a few more months to go.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t put much thought into having babies. I was only in my late twenties. Too young for diapers and milk.
“Whatever.”
Konstantin’s mouth curved into a smile. “Not to worry, you’ll learn soon enough. I heard you got married. Drive-through wedding in Vegas nonetheless. Congratulations.”
Of course, he’d heard. The underworld was like a gossip column.
