CHAPTER 1
Wil
Everything, including the man in front of me, had its own unique attributes. The coward wasn’t a friend, but business. A spineless rat. Target practice.
“I thought we were friends,” the man said. “We arefriends, right, bro?”
Friends. The word almost made me laugh. I’m good at making people think that we’re friends. As the networker for my family’s business, I’ve put a lot of time into honing my image, making myself the important connection and face of the family’s crime syndicate.
But that doesn’t mean I’m anyone’s friend. The man, Brad, flicked his tongue over his lips as he tried to think up an excuse. We had known each other for years, but still, he bailed on me when it came time to pay. After we had taken his two fingers, I had almost expected it, which would make the finality of this interaction all the more satisfying. What a birthday present.
This is what it meant to be an Adler. Conquer. Annihilate. Rule. Birthday or not, everything was in the name of family. And if you didn’t have Adler blood? I would cut you in half. And if you hurt my family? Everyone you loved wouldn’t stand a chance.
No one messes with an Adler.
Brad bit his fingers, the ones that were left anyway, the nail beds bloody and torn. He shivered and looked down at his hands again, as if a gun could magically appear in his palms. But he didn’t need magic: Don’t want to die for your bad decisions? Don’t spend money you don’t have.
Sometimes, I thought of myself as a god. I dealt in chance in the gambling hall, helping men thrive or wash away their lives, and back here, dealing with business matters, I chose between their lives and their deaths. Their fate was up to me.
“Look, man,” Brad mumbled, “I told you, I have the money, I just need time. I was going to get it for you. Just not here. I’ve got an uncle—”
“Word has it that your step-daddy cut you out of the family business,” I said. Brad cowered. “So tell me. Why were you in my gambling hall?”
“Look, man. I know I can get back into the business.”
“I talked to your family. You’ve been cut off. They’re not willing to help you pay.”
Tears welled in his eyes. The poor asshole. But debts were debts, and if he didn’t have the cash or the capital, then he had to pay in one way or another. We had already taken two of his fingers. It was time to move on.
“Can’t we work this out?” His fishbowl eyes pleaded up at me. “Can’t you take one of my cousins instead? We’ve been friends for a long ass time, man. You’re like a brother to me.”
Brad reached over and slapped my arm, two of his fingers missing. I glared at the touch, then removed his hand as if it were dirty. Axe, myactualbrother, was leaning against the door frame, the only exit out of the room. His eyes were blank, staring forward. He had delivered Brad. Now it was up to me to finish the job.
He knew I liked it too. Playing god. I knew it was a birthday present from him.
“You’re right,” I said to Brad, my voice low. “We were friends. And if we were in a different line of work, maybe I would let a friend slide.” I shook my head, pretending to be sad. “But you know that what we do here is different. And if I let you slide, then everyone will expect a free pass.” I tossed a hand to the side. “And I can’t let that happen.”
“I’ll do anything, Wil. Anything.”
I took my pistol from the desk and pulled the hammer back. Brad’s eyes widened. Power surged within me.
“Shit, man,” he stuttered. “Take my hand. Break my knees. Not a fucking gun.”
I aimed at his forehead and he lifted his hands like the flesh and bones of those eight fingers could defend him from a bullet.
“Please, Wil, I—”
The bullet went straight through his forehead, clean and efficient. His body fell back against the chair in a thud.
Axe adjusted against the wall, then nodded at me.
“Where’d you find him again?” I asked.
“In the line for TSA.”
The bastard had almost gotten away. “What’d you tell him?” I asked. Axe had a reputation for getting his point across quickly. I could picture him whispering a thousand nightmares in a few words.
“That I knew where his wife lived.”
