Page 107 of Fortress of the King

“That would be pointless,” I reply. “She doesn’t know who they are.”

“Vaughn’s traced the cell back, but it seems they use a new burner phone for every call,” Enzo puts in. “This motherfucker definitely covers their tracks. The best bet we have is nabbing the associate who did the drop, and finding out whatever he knows.”

I flash him a wicked smile. “Looks like it may be time to wake sleeping beauty.”

“Wait, what the fuck are you laughing and grinning about?” Marco calls as I slide my tumbler onto the marble countertop. “Is that it? We need to work out the strategy before you go completely off the rails.”

I give him the finger as I stalk off. “You’ll find out soon enough!” I call back. “And I think the rails left the track a long time ago, brother.”

“Shouldn’t you wait for the others; we’ve got to hatch a plan!” Marco tries again, exasperation lacing his tone. “Angelo!”

“I’ve already got a plan. Get everyone together, I’ll call you when I’m at Falmouth.”

* * *

I slide into my Aston Martin and slink back into the cool leather and try and contain myself.

I live for this shit.

The threat. The lure. And then the kill. It’s what I do.

And while the betrayal seeps through my bones like an unwelcome visitor, I push it down. I can’t let the bitterness inside me cloud my judgment for what has to be done. And even though I shouldn’t give two fucks, Rayne’s sister is innocent, and she’s still being held hostage. If I’m honest with myself, aside from the fact that Rayne is trying to kill me, I might be mildly impressed with her efforts to get this far undetected.

No one else has gotten this close to me. If this weren’t my life on the line, I might even offer her fucking promotion. Maybe not as an assassin, but I can see her tied to my four-poster bed while I ravage her body and take back every single fucking feeling I had for her and show her no mercy. That sounds like a much better plan than torture.

My palms sweat with the plan swirling around in my head.

It’s fucking perfect.

My cell phone rings; not the distraction I need, but I answer anyway, seeing as it’s Dante.

“Just heard that Senator Mendes had a heart attack,” he says.

“Is that so?” A slow smile creeps across my face despite my current predicament.So, I’d had enough of him after all. With my meeting with the Russians next week, it was time for Mendes to go. One less headache to deal with.

“Dropped dead at the Gala, in front of his wife and his mistress.”

“Such a shame,” I muse. “Can never trust a man who dibs his nib with the nanny.”

I guess they don’t call me a ruthless bastard for nothing. Extinction is the best route for these types of men. There is no redemption, only in hell may he see the error of his ways.

I’ve got all I need from the bottom dwellers underneath Mendes, and while I would have enjoyed playing with him for a little while until he broke, he’s too high profile. People would notice his disappearance and investigate. While I can control the feds, it’s less of a headache if I keep them out of it. Favors are all well and good, but I need to use them wisely.

And sometimes, let’s face it, you just gotta take out the trash.

If Rayne thinks she’s the only one who can go around trying to poison people and make it look like an accident, then she severely underestimated me.

A heart attack is nice and neat, even if I would’ve preferred his heart on a platter.

I drive out of town and through the nearly deserted freeway to the country.

“I guess there are worse ways to go,” he replies.

“Why aren’t you at Fortress anyway?”

“Why are you going to the country?” he counters.

We never say Falmouth or give away our location over a cell phone. With the amount of de-tracking devices on all of our phones and devices, it’s unlikely anyone would ever encrypt it, but I never take the chance.

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