Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“It was you, wasn’t it?” I wave my hands in her face. “You were in the walls, weren’t you?”
“I was what?” She looks around in a panic. “I’m just cleaning staff, miss. That’s all.”
“Admit it!” I get right in her face. “You were watching me in the walls.”
“I wasn’t… I mean, I don’t…” She backs away cautiously and I realize I’m being a total crazy person.
“Sorry!” She turns and hurries, the vacuum left behind.
Well, crap. It definitely wasn’t her.
But someone was watching me in the walls.
I feel giddy with excitement. This house is like heaven. A secret wing behind a locked door and now a network of hidden spy passages. It’s like whoever designed this place did it just to make my curiosity-brain go haywire with delight.
Only now I have a problem.
Arsen’s got to know about these passages. But he didn’t tell me for a reason.
Do I let him know that I know? Or use them against him?
He’ll be pissed if he realizes I’ve been scurrying around in the walls.
But whoever was watching me definitely was doing it under his orders, and he’ll find out that I chased them eventually.
I need to figure out how best to handle this little discovery quickly before Arsen ruins all my fun.
Chapter 32
Arsen
“Took you fucking long enough,” Tigran says softly as I crouch down beside him.
Across the parking lot, the nail salon looks like it always does. Just another anonymous business in a simple strip mall out in the suburbs. There are plenty of cars in the parking lot and a decent amount of foot traffic between the stores.
“I rushed here the second you called. How long has she been in there?”
“Forty minutes. I’m guessing she’s almost finished.”
“Where are our men?”
“Place is surrounded. I’ve got ten out back and ten more scattered around the front.”
“And who did she bring with her?”
“Four guards. Two are still in the car and two went inside.”
I nod to myself. We have the numbers. But this is a tricky situation.
It’s the middle of the day. Aunt Sona’s not stupid—she wouldn’t risk her life for a manicure at night. I can’t move as easily when there are this many potential witnesses around.
But fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get a chance this good.
“Neutralize her men in the car,” I order Tigran. “I’m going inside.”
“You sure about that?”
“Obey your patron,” I tell him firmly. I’m not in the mood for bullshit right now.
Tigran’s grin is vicious. “You really want to end this shit right here, huh? Take out Aunt Sona and the rest will fall apart.”
“That’s the idea.” I gently push him away. “Go do your job.”
“Yes, sir.” Tigran hurries off. I watch him meet with three of our men and have a quick discussion. They arm themselves with silenced pistols before creeping between the cars, heading toward a big, white Cadillac parked in the far corner.
My men are good. They’re well trained and they know their business. Tigran takes the first shots, lighting the car up. The silencers don’t make the bullets quiet, but they muffle it enough that it sounds like little firecrackers going off. The few people nearby barely even look over.
Tigran gives me an all-good gesture.
I walk toward the salon. I don’t know how many employees are inside or if there are other customers as well. But none of them matter. Aunt Sona is my only target, and I’m done showing mercy to family.
It has to be this way.
Four of my men fall in with me. I nod at one of them, a cousin named Aaron. He takes point and the others fall in behind.
My father was a ruthless man. He killed without hesitation. The city bled beneath his boots and he took control of the Brotherhood with an iron fist.
But he also treated family well. He loved his brothers and sisters. He even cared about his children in his own sick and twisted way.
Everyone in the Brotherhood expects me to act like my father did. They see hesitation and mercy as weakness.
While all I can see is a patron falling so low that he’s forced to kill his own blood relatives.
Aaron shoves open the salon door. I rush in past him, gun drawn. Sona’s two guards are sitting to the left in the waiting area reading magazines. They try to leap to their feet, but I put them down with bullets to their chests before they can even cry out.
Employees scream. A couple of older women are getting pedicures in the back. They topple from their chairs and cover their heads.
I barely see anyone but Aunt Sona.
She’s sitting at one of the manicure tables. The employee across from her staggers backward away from me, hitting the floor and crawling away.
Aunt Sona doesn’t move. Her chin raises defiantly as I approach.
“Who told you?” she asks.
I point my gun at my aunt’s head. “Doesn’t matter.”