Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“Cut it out,” Jason growls, pulling me back down into my seat. “You’re spoiled to the point of sociopathy.”
Seems like an overreaction, but whatever.
Jason
She’s a brat. Worse than a brat. She’s a married woman looking to fuck over her husband. There’s nothing more dangerous on the planet than that. Scorned women are the kind of danger no guy should ever willingly encounter. Can’t say I’m happy to be mixed up in this. Aslin’s hot. She’s the kind of crazy that sets the sheets on fire. But we should be walking away from this mess while we’re still intact. Soren won’t do that, and I won’t abandon him. I owe him more than that. But I don’t trust Aslin.
She’d tell me that it doesn’t matter. She’d say she never asked me to trust her, and she doesn’t trust me either. Everything about her is a frustrating mislead, and I think Soren and I are making a mistake by getting mixed up in it all.
I’m not here for her. I’m here because I owe Soren my life. He saved it more than once when we were at war, and vice versa. We trust each other with everything. There are no secrets between us. Ever. And here we are, traveling coach with the biggest bundle of secrets I’ve ever seen. We’re heading into danger again, and I just have to trust that Soren and I will pull through like we’ve pulled through before.
12
Soren
“I’m going to tell you one last time,” Aslin says. “This is a mistake. Let me go and tell Luca I got away. He’ll believe you. I’ve gotten away from more security than the two of you before.”
She has argued all the way from Kathmandu to this hotel in New York, a fact that has not put her in Jason’s good graces. I am a little more understanding. She is scared, that much is obvious. I am hoping after today she won’t have to be scared anymore.
“Quiet,” Jason growls.
Jason’s contact in Luca Vitori’s camp has put us in touch with the man himself, which means we’re about to get this situation resolved. With all going well, Aslin’s going to be out of trouble, and we’ll all be free to resume our lives without the prospect of militias hunting us down.
I plan to meet him in our hotel restaurant, a public place where a bloodbath would be an inconvenience to all concerned. It’s in the part of Manhattan where an unofficial ceasefire exists among those with honor. The part where wives, children, and cars are safe from being riddled with bullets.
Jason is wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He refuses to wear anything tidier in case someone thinks he cares. It doesn’t matter, he’s staying behind the scenes. He elected himself to guard Aslin while I talk to Luca. I think that’s a good plan. Someone needs to be with her at all times to stop her from getting hurt or being hurt.
Aslin has been surprisingly cooperative. She’s given me account numbers and access codes for the money Luca says she stole. I’m going into this meeting being able to offer Luca what he wants, which gives me a good feeling.
I opted for a blue shirt, no tie, and charcoal dress pants. I look smart. Not mafia smart, but tidy enough to fit in downstairs where bankers and traders make the world go around.
“I will be back soon,” I tell the disgruntled pair. “Try not to kill each other.”
Neither one of them says very much as I leave. They’re too busy giving each other looks that would kill if looks could kill. I sigh inwardly and hope that we can repair what’s been broken by this series of lies. Saving Aslin has to be the priority.
I walk downstairs to the restaurant. Luca is already there. I see him the second I walk through the door. He’s the sort of man that draws the eye, a kind of man who commands attention and respect. He’s very handsome, and not as old one might expect. To hear Aslin, you’d think he was a creepy older man, the kind who would hit on a hot young woman and assume she was harmless because she was pretty. Luca looks young enough to know better, maybe mid-thirties, raven dark hair, brutal eyes, and the kind of expression that tells you he’s comfortable with death. He is waiting for me in the restaurant, ostensibly alone, but I can see his men are everywhere, failing to relax in various poses, keeping a very close eye on me. My experiences in life have made me very sensitive to being watched. Right now, I am under intense observation.
“Hello,” I say, offering my hand. “I am Soren Larsen.”
“Luca,” Luca says, offering his hand to shake. “Luca Vitori. I believe you have my wife.”
Jason
“I need you to get out of my way, Jason,” Aslin says.