Page 23 of Sweet Lies

“That completes our business,” Sebastian mutters, shoving me forward. I wasn’t expecting the move and stumble. The man’s hands grip my arms painfully.

“Sebastian, what are you doing? You can’t do this; tell him to release me. Your father will want me. He wants me dead. If he finds out, he’ll kill you, Sebastian. You know that!” My voice quivers. I’d tried to make it steady like my sister would have, but instead it comes out weak, almost like a question.

Sebastian glances behind him at the mention of his father. For a moment, hope bursts through me that he’ll change his mind. There was almost no world in which I would prefer Adrian, but in this instant, I would give anything to be taken to him instead.

“Tony, make sure whoever she goes to next knows she’s never to return to New York. I never want to see her face again. As far as the world knows, Rebecca Rossi died with her family.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Sebastian, but don’t worry. I don’t need your father coming after me. The girl is dead to the world,” Tony assures Sebastian, as if they were discussing a car and not me, a living, breathing human. What world have I entered?

As Sebastian’s car pulls away, despair overwhelms me. I know if Tony weren’t holding me up, I would fall to the ground.

What do I do?

* * *

ANDRE

There’s nothing left of the house. The bodies are buried under the rubble. If anyone is still alive, they’ll be long gone before they’re found.

I watch from afar as the firefighters and police surround what was once the Rossi mansion. The men left in the organization have fled and will attempt a takeover of some sort. Others, the less loyal ones, will try to wiggle themselves in with another family. The last few will take this as good fortune and leave this life. Anyone not in those three groups is either dead, or will be before the day is finished. Adrian will see to that. The last phone call I had with Pete was him confirming that Adrian was coming for the family.

Adrian would come for me soon. He knows I was fully loyal to the Rossi family, and he’ll want to take the strongest threats out first. It’s time to leave. One day I’ll make them pay for their deaths, but today isn’t that day.

Rebecca flashes through my mind, and my hands fist at my sides, thinking how scared she must have been. I only hope it was a quick, painless death. She deserved much more from the world than this ending. One day, Rebecca, I’ll get you your revenge.

I’ll get all of you your revenge.

ChapterEight

ANDRE

Three Years Later

Lazily I watch the light dim from the man’s eyes. I used to feel a rush, but that has long since faded. It’s all just a matter of business now, and the sooner my latest kill has been confirmed, the quicker the last bit of money enters my account. I don’t particularly care what Sam Mac did to piss off one of the Irish mob bosses. I’m not in the business of caring. My job is to take the name I’m given and take care of the problem. Honestly, I’ve become numb to the entire process.

There was a time when I craved the kill, but it becomes just like a nine-to-five job at a certain point. I get in, and I get out as soon as possible. There’s no reason to make more of a statement with my kills. I enjoyed making a spectacle of my marks at one point, but now there truly is no point. A dead man is a dead man. It all pays the same. Sam here was worth a hundred grand; he really must have pissed off the boss.

Taking the picture for proof, I send it from my latest burner phone before taking care of the evidence.

Once that’s done, I find myself in a bar. Miller’s Hand Tavern is dimly lit to hide the features of the partners. Someone will sorely disappoint the couple making out in the corner with the last call when the lights go on and their date goes from an eight to a three in a second. Smoke and booze hangs in the air, along with the smell of lemon cleaning products wafting in my direction from the clean-up bin.

There are only two seats left at the bar, and the bartender appears too chatty, so I order a drink then saunter to the open two-top table in the corner, which is bathed in darkness. The lights seem only to touch the edges of the table, making it perfect for my needs.

Most people avoid me, sensing what lies beneath the surface. But occasionally, a drunk will grow some balls and start something. Tonight, like most nights, I’m not in the mood.

In the morning, I’ll move on to my next target. Matt Milligan is hiding in a small town outside of Kansas. I could take a few weeks or months, really, with my latest paycheck, alongside the other money I have lying around, but sitting still has never done much for me. I can’t see myself sitting by the beach drinking a margarita either.

While I’ve grown bored of the kill, I still need the rush that comes with the hunt. It fills my soul and feeds my demon. My father had a similar monster, which is what made him a great assassin for Lucas Rossi. When the Rossi family was taken out, I left, finding a new life—a life hidden entirely in the shadows.

Rebecca flashes through my mind, and I quickly banish her with a drink. Thinking about Rebecca never improves my mood. Being back in New York was enough to cause her to haunt me till I left the city.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise as someone new enters the bar. A man in a tailored suit makes his way to the counter. The woman on his heels is wearing a short, tight dress that distinguishes her position for the night. The man rests his hand on her shoulder, and she flinches. It’s not her outfit or the look of fear on her face that calls to me. It’s something else. Something about her I can’t place, as if I’ve met her before. But prostitutes have never been my thing. I’ve never felt the need to pay for sex. If I needed a release, plenty of women were willing, and most wanted more than just one night.

Where do I know her from? My mind wheels in several directions, trying to find the truth. Remembering faces is part of my job and it pisses me off that I can’t place the small woman.

The bartender places drinks in front of the man, and he pays with cash before leading the woman to a table on the opposite side of the room. He rests his hand high on her thigh, causing the dress to inch up higher. Unlike earlier, she conceals her reaction.

It’s none of my concern, I remind myself, finishing my drink in one gulp. Throwing cash on the table, I walk toward the exit, forcing myself not to glance at the woman. I feel her eyes on my back for just a second before she returns to her man for the night.

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