Page 31 of Corbin
Corbin told Ares,We have a chance at a better life with Adrian and Jaz.
Good for you, not me,Ares pointed out.I was more important before.
You were treated far better than me and never realized they were only using you,Corbin groused.I’m trying to create a better situation for both of us.He didn’t have the mental space to argue with Ares about how being fed more to kill had not made him important. The Romanian would kill Ares with a single titanium shot if Ares had ever acted like an ass to their keeper.
Corbin narrowed his eyes at the cushy private car ahead toting around the woman who had tossed him into a Romanian refuse crusher like yesterday’s trash.
Now he had to protect the Givenchy Queen.
No one had to explain irony to him.
“Whatever.” Corbin would not allow his anger to overrule his common sense. He’d treat her like any other stranger for now. Once he and Adrian completed this task, Corbin intended to reveal his identity to Givenchy and get an answer to the one question he’d lived with for seven years.
Why did you destroy my life?
He’d get his chance even if it meant standing in line for an autograph.
Corbin wormed his way between cars, drawing a few honks, and made a questionable move with success. No time to celebrate as traffic flowed toward a street where the sedan began forcing its way from the middle lane to the left lane with a blinker flashing.
That had been a quick move.
Had the driver made Corbin?
Holding his breath, he executed a hairy move, drawing a few honks, but he reached the next left turn without causing a traffic issue.
With two cars between them, the sedan turned left, offering Corbin a brief glance at Givenchy riding alone in the back seat. He had to keep reminding himself that the quiet young girl he’dfallen hard for was gone. She’d grown into a stunning woman who carried herself with brutal confidence and cold arrogance.
Maybe she’d been like that all along, and his attraction to her had blinded him to reality. He mourned never having had the chance to get to know the young girl, but that time had passed. Now he had a front row seat to observe her in real time.
Still two cars ahead of Corbin, the blue sedan angled to the right, taking an entrance ramp to the interstate.
Rolling on the throttle as he entered the fast-moving traffic, Corbin shoved everything from his mind to narrow his focus on finding out all he could on Givenchy for Adrian. His stomach soured at the thought she could be involved in the security guards’ deaths, but he shook that off.
He had a responsibility to Adrian, not the memory of a girl from high school.
After following his target heading west, Givenchy’s sedan exited the interstate before downtown, where he’d expect a powerful trustee’s office to be located. Next time, he’d ask Adrian the trustee’s location. After multiple turns, the car drove along an eclectic retail area that appeared to have been revitalized from a past era. The sedan suddenly pulled over to the curb on the right.
When Givenchy jumped out of the car, she no longer wore a skirt. Striding quickly toward a boutique dress shop, she’d changed into deep green pants but still had the same beige blouse. Her pretty hair had been tucked under a floppy hat, and she carried a large purse the size of a tote bag on her shoulder.
The most notable change on her way into the store had been from spiked heels to casual walking shoes.
None of that appeared suspicious at all, right?
Corbin pulled into a parking spot from where he could watch the shop entrance. He tapped his fingers, trying to decide if heshould follow her into the store. He’d stand out like a blazing beacon. She had to be up to something.
Should he call Adrian?
No, that sounded like he needed handholding. He gave it a minute, then recalled how he’d been trained to hunt by a deadly group who never lost a target—the Romanians.
Though productive, that had often required questionable methods.
He considered his options. Leaving this spot was risky if she came back out, but his gut shouted that she would not come back out the front door.
If he guessed wrong, he’d have to explain to Adrian why he lost track of Givenchy. The one thing he didn’t want to do was fail on his first day of this operation.
Screw it. When in doubt, go with instinct.
He found an opening in traffic, flipped his bike around, and took off. He had one goal—to discover if she was only Eirene-the-Queen Givenchy or Eirene-the-Killer Givenchy.
