Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I lean back into my seat, impatient and taking the chance to rest. Skinny tried to cut my fucking head off with some piano wire just two hours ago and I’m still recovering. Claudia’s back in the oasis where she’s safe, and Elena tried to convince me not to head back out, but there was no way in hell I’d let anyone else raid Tommy’s place without me.
“Brained a guy with the edge of a drink tray.” Apparently, she hit him a few times. There were bits of hair and blood all on the edge. That made me proud as hell of her.
“Damn, you found a good one. Does she have a sister?”
I sigh and close my eyes. “You have no idea how complicated that is.” Then I look at him. “But seriously, if there’s a woman in that condo, she has to be kept safe. Spread the word, alright?”
“You got it.” Seamus fires off a few texts to the other teams. “You fucking Biancos. I don’t know why you didn’t just kill this Tommy fella from the start.”
“I had it under control.”
His eyebrows raise. “Yeah, looks that way.”
I grunt and ignore him. Hindsight and all that. It’s easy to say we should’ve taken Tommy down the second we realized he was working behind our backs, but there was good reason to wait.
He and the Serbians are up to something, and if we kill him, we may never find out what it was.
Doesn’t matter now. Tommy crossed the line when he sent Skinny after me, and now it’s time to finish this.
I get a few minutes to gather myself. I’m far from my best, but when the text comes and it’s time to move in, I keep up with Seamus. We hustle into the condo building and the doorman is gently encouraged to lie on the ground with his hands on his head. Davide finds the concierge key to Tommy’s place and we take the elevators up to his floor.
My brother’s in the lead with his right-hand Emilio, both of them big and wearing body armor. I’m next with Seamus right behind me. We reach the door and though Davide’s a big bastard and could probably knock it down with a spirited cough, he quietly unlocks it instead.
He opens it and I step past Emilio, my gun raised as I clear the first room.
The entryway leads to a big, modern living area next to an open kitchen. It’s spacious and clean, immaculately clean, with only a few magazines on the coffee table, all of them gossip rags. The kitchen looks like it’s never used. A pack of cigarettes on an end table. Nice paintings hang on the walls. I recognize Degas, Van Gogh. There must be a few million worth of art in the foyer alone.
But it’s quiet. The men spill inside and start clearing the rooms. Tommy’s nowhere, not upstairs, not in the gym, not on the balcony.
Frustration bubbles through my guts. I start flipping through shit in Tommy’s bedroom. We take a laptop, a few phones, and find some cash wrapped up in a scarf in his closet.
“Nothing,” Davide grunts at me. “He got another place?”
“Not that I know about.” I’m tempted to punch the fucking wall. “Search the place. Grab anything useful.”
“Will do.” Davide squeezes my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, brother. We’ll find him.”
I nod and walk away, too pissed to stick around. Seamus looks like he wants to follow, but a look lets him know that I’m not in the mood for company. I take the elevator down alone and storm back to the car, already exhausted and on edge, and all I want is to find Tommy so I can put a bullet in his fucking head.
But he knew we’d be coming for him. The second Skinny didn’t come back out from that alley, he knew. I’m guessing he’s holed up with Serena somewhere, maybe under the protection of his Serbian business partners, or maybe already on the run to another country. Davide’s right—we’ll find him. But I’m impatient, and I want him now.
There’s a tap at the window. I look over, about to tell whoever it is to fuck off, and find the barrel of a gun pointing at my face.
Roc’s standing at the other end, frowning at me. He gestures with his free hand: open up.
I unlock the doors. Slowly, he climbs into the back seat, the gun aimed at me the whole time.
“How’d you know I’d be here?” I ask, watching him in the rearview.
“Tommy had me keeping an eye on the place. I saw you guys roll up, and I was about to leave when you came back out alone. I figured I’d take the opportunity.”
Fuck. Stupid. I should’ve been more careful. I’m not thinking clearly—my head’s still cloudy from nearly getting choked to death.