Fuck.
“Yeah. A run, that’s what I meant,” I say, as we both come to a stop in front of the elevator. As if on cue, we spare the slightest glance at each other before bolting toward the stairs and racing down them two at a time.
“Heading out too?” I press, desperately trying to keep ahead of his massive strides, but it’s physically impossible. No amount of training will change the fact that his legs are twice the size of mine.
“Uh-huh,” he grunts, as we race down the stairwell together. “Brother’s, uncle’s, girlfriend’s, sister’s cow got tipped. You know how it is.”
“Oh yeah. The brother’s, uncle’s, girlfriend’s sister. I mean, when family calls, right? You go running.”
“That’s what family is for.”
I scoff. “Who would have known you even had a brother?” I say. “Did you know, or is this brand-new information to both of us?”
Only one more flight of stairs to go, and the competition starts eating at me, desperate to prove myself, and I shove his arm, pushing him against the wall as I grab the railing and propel myself over it, dropping straight to the bottom.
He gasps, and a loud laugh barks from the back of my throat.
“Oh, fuck no. You want dirty, baby. I’ll give you dirty,” he mutters, quickly eating up the space between us, and catching me right before we break out into the parking garage, only to grab the back of my workout crop, yank me back a step, and cut in front of me as he breaks through the threshold into the garage.
Irritation burns through me, and I storm out after him, my foot swiping out and tripping him up, only it doesn’t have the desired effect as his momentum has him falling into a forward dive, only to roll right out of it and get back to his feet, not missing a damn step. “Gotta try harder than that, Firecracker.”
Im-fucking-possible. This man is impossible.
He takes off toward our shared parking while I continue ahead,racing toward my Urus, and as he gets stuck with his moronically horizontal parking job, I launch myself at my car, my ass skimming across the hood and landing me directly beside the driver’s door.
I’m in my car in seconds, the engine roaring to life, and as I hit the gas and tear out of my 410 parking space, I fly by Raiden, sparing only a small glance as he’s forced to inch forward and back a million times before having enough space to race out of the parking garage behind me.
Then the moment we hit the main road, I turn directly to the left, and really hit the gas, heading toward my secret warehouse, while Raiden turns to the right, hopefully on his way to un-tip a cow with his brother’s, uncle’s, girlfriend’s sister.
CHAPTER 16
RAIDEN
Pushing my Audi RS7 to its limits, I race through the thinning suburbs until finally reaching the San Gabriel Mountains. It’s roughly an hour drive from where I live in LA, but I did it in forty minutes.
Today’s target: Grant Caldwell—hedge fund manager who tanked the wrong business.
I don’t usually take contracts like this, especially ones that only pay out half a million dollars, but the moment I saw the determination in Kiara’s eyes, I couldn’t resist. Am I really the type to steal something out from under a beautiful woman? Absolutely not. But she’s already stolen my five-million-dollar contract in Barcelona. This is simply settling a score. The fact that I get to watch her sweat while we’re at it only makes the experience better.
Am I delusional enough to believe that she was really going for a run while somehow needing her car for that? No, not even a little bit. But does a part of me still want to believe that this is all an insane coincidence, and that those subtle, silent threats between us were nothing more than foreplay? Of course.
Buuuut, on the other hand, I have never been so excited to take on a contract in my life.
The mere idea that Kiara wants to claim this kill has me moving faster than ever.
I will destroy her. Figuratively, of course.
Driving deeper into the mountains, the roads turn from gravel into dirt, and it spits up behind my Audi, creating a dust storm and basically giving away my location, but if I’m lucky, Kiara didn’t venture down this path.
After leaving my apartment, I went directly to my warehouse to get my gear. My research was pretty straightforward. Grant wasn’t hard to find. His face has been splashed all over the internet after the collapse of his hedge funds, and it’s been all too easy to pinpoint his location.
A quick search showed he owns a home in Central LA and owns an apartment complex downtown, but considering the type of wealthy businessmen he’s pissed off and the connections they have, remaining there wasn’t an option. And after searching just a little deeper, I found an off-grid cabin owned by his family deep in the San Gabriel Mountains.
It was a no-brainer. Something I have no doubt Kiara would havebeen able to work out too. Though it would be awfully convenient if she hadn’t.
After figuring out the exact location of the cabin, I loaded up my rifle, deciding for this specific job and terrain, a single bullet to the head would be my quickest and easiest option. Plus, I can keep my distance without alerting Caldwell to my presence. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t always lean toward ease, but for half a million dollars, I’m not about to get my hands dirty.
I wind through the steep mountains, climbing higher as the dirt roads become more unpredictable the further I go. I don’t stop until I reach the ridge that overlooks the private cabin below, and as I peer down into the valley, trying to work out the best position to take on this job, I can’t help but appreciate the view.
