Page 77 of The Fall of a Promise

“Better yet,howcould you do it? My wife was ready to give you everything you could possibly want.”

He looks up at the mention of Anya.

“Nothing to say? The one person in your miserable existence who gives a shit about you, and this is how you repay her.”

The fool shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The proof is right here.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the sim card with the bug attached to it. I made sure his messages were always sent to me, but this bug was a listening device to ensure he’d never have to contact Caishen himself.

“Let me guess—he approached you after the big meeting, made you promises, dangled the carrot. You got greedy and just couldn’t resist.”

Grayson shakes his head as I break it down for him. “I don’t know how that got there. How did Caishen even know about me?”

All great questions I want to know the answers to as well.

Instead of answering, I spear on.

“Did he promise you all the Triad territories in the U.S.? His little spawn rules the East while you take over the West?”

My phone goes off, and I reach into my pocket. It’s a message from Dante, who’s upstairs reviewing anything we’ve gathered on him for the last few weeks. It’s an image of Grayson in a bar with an Asian man, then another of them sparring with each other at the gym. Then another image of that same man meeting with Caishen last week.

This is why the only other person I can trust with digging up dirt is Dante. He’s the best at finding things that don’t want to be found and connecting dots that don’t exist.

“Who is this?” I turn my phone to show him the image.

“What? He’s just a client.”

“So, you know him?”

“Obviously,” he retorts as I swipe to the third image before turning the screen to him.

He squints at the image first, then his face changes when he realizes who else is in the image.

“I swear to you—”

“YOUR WORD MEANS NOTHING!” I scream right into his face.

“Nico,” my wife says from behind me.

I turn to her expressionless face.

“He’s not going to say anything useful tonight. It’s late, and I want to go home,” she says to me and nods to the door.

I look back at the traitor before punching him.

“Get comfortable,” I tell him as I turn to leave.

My wife is waiting with her hand out, and I take it in mine.

“Anya, listen to me,” Grayson pleas. “I don’t know—”

I slam the door.

* * *

We’re silent as we walk back up the stairs to the ground floor. Once we get to the top, my wife turns and looks up at me.

“Maybe if I come back tomorrow and talk to him—”

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