Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
I hate when he calls me sis. It’s said with a vehemence I can feel. Like he’s spitting the word.
Me: I need to go. I’ll let you know tomorrow.
Lucien: Tomorrow may be too late.
Me: I need to go. Soldiers.
It’s a lie, but it doesn’t matter. I switch off the phone and set it aside then stand to get the album from the desk. I open it to the article about Hannah, and I start to read.
19
BASTIAN
Amadeo and I are having a drink before turning in for the night when his cell phone rings. He glances at the screen as I pour us another glass of Dominic Benedetti’s excellent whiskey. We’re still staying at his penthouse in the city while he’s out of town with his wife and family.
“This is Amadeo,” my brother says. I don’t hear what the caller says, but Amadeo’s expression changes. “Just a minute, Dominic. Let me put you on speaker so my brother can hear you.”
Dominic Benedetti.
I resume my seat. Amadeo sets the phone on the coffee table.
“I have good news and bad news,” he says. “You have a preference which I start with?”
“Not really,” Amadeo says. “Shoot.”
“Smart to put a tail on Brady. Probably saved the old man’s life.”
“Is that the good or bad part?” I ask.
Dominic chuckles, and my brother snorts. “He had a run-in with the brother.”
“Lucien? You have him?” Amadeo asks, sitting up and leaning toward the phone.
“That’s the bad news. No. He slipped away. I have men looking, but he’s gone.”
“Where were they?”
“Just outside a private club in the city. Brady was… indulging in the entertainment, shall we say, when the host approached to let him know there was a call for him. He excused himself, and we found him exiting through the kitchen to the alley. Never a good idea when dealing with crooks.”
“You’d think he’d know that by now,” I say.
“We had eyes on him almost immediately. Lucien met him there, and they talked for a few minutes. Things got heated when he saw Lucien came armed.”
“Go on.”
“He attacked Brady before my soldier could stop him and, in the chaos, ran.”
“Any of your soldiers hurt?” Amadeo asks.
“No, they’re fine.”
“Brady?”
“Flesh wound but you wouldn’t know it to hear him whine.”
I roll my eyes.
“Found it interesting that Russo had a black eye. Someone beat him but not too badly.”
“An incentive beating,” Amadeo says.
“I think so. Nothing was broken as far as my men could see.”
“I’m going to guess that’s the Russians, and they want payment for their dead soldiers. Where’s Brady?”
“Home. I’m texting you his address now. My men will be waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Dominic. We owe you.”
“It’s good to have allies around the world. You never know when you might need them.” Translation, we will be repaying the favor, which is fine by me.
Amadeo disconnects the call. I’m already on my feet putting my jacket on as he’s tucking the phone into his pocket and grabbing his blazer. We ride the elevator impatiently to the garage to pick up the SUV, and Amadeo enters the address into the GPS as I pull out into traffic.
The good and bad thing with this city is it really doesn’t sleep. It’s close to one in the morning and traffic to the old man’s posh neighborhood is still a bitch. Given that and the location, it takes us over an hour to get there. When we do, we park behind two other SUVs along the circular drive of the mansion set far enough back into its own property that it would be one of those houses that, when we were little, Dad would say something like “if you can’t see it from the road, we can’t afford it.”
Dominic’s men open the front door as we approach and direct us up to the second floor. Amadeo and I walk side by side up the wide staircase.
“His job pays well,” I comment.
“I’m sure it’s all that not working with crooks.”
We hear him before we even get to the one door that’s guarded.
“I need to get to a hospital. I need a real doctor.”
Amadeo and I exchange a look and enter the large bedroom where the old man is sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt off as someone sticks a bandage onto his side. When he sees us, he doesn’t show surprise. I think he may have aged ten years tonight. He looks frail with his narrow shoulders, his caved-in chest, and small but soft, round belly. Sparse, white hair dots both chest and stomach, and I think about Dominic’s comment that he was indulging in the entertainment. Did some poor woman have to touch that?
When Brady’s eyes land on us, he goes silent.
“Heard you had a run-in with my brother-in-law,” Amadeo says.
The man attending to Brady backs away as Brady tilts his chin up and doesn’t bother to respond.