AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Bridgeport. That is where your mother lives…is it not?”
Phillip nods, tears running down his cheeks. “She has nothing to do with this. Please, don’t hurt her.”
“Then tell me who the fuck sent you,” I snarl, lip curling over my teeth as I fight the instinct to strike once more. “Tell me, and she’ll be taken care of for the rest of her life. She will want for nothing. You have my word.”
Resignation flashes in his eyes, and they close. Another choked sob leaves his throat as his life slowly fades, each breath harder than the last.
“Tell her that I love her.”
“Done.”
“His name is Alton Foster.”
I nod but say nothing. I knew this also, just needed confirmation before I rain hell on a man that doesn’t respect our rules. Being somewhat new to Chicago, he is stupid and arrogant. A dead man walking, he has no idea the kind of war he just unleashed.
Before Phillip could take his next breath, I pull a gun from my back and shoot him once between the eyes. A mercy kill as two voices shout out—the one on the phone full of despair while his son fights against the hold my men have him in.
I’m done with the theatrics and put the gun back in its place. Everyone watches me as, with absolute calm, I pull the knife from Phillip’s dead body and walk back toward my godfather’s only child. My hands and knife are a bloody mess as I grab a fistful of his hair. “Hold your tongue out.”
“Malcolm—”
“Be grateful,” is all I say, grip tightening until his eyes water and I can literally feel as the strands break between my fingertips. “Now open and do as you are told.”
“Anything but this.”
“Would you rather join your friend in the next life?”
“I didn’t know. You have to believe me.”
“The sad part is that I do,” I say, letting go and grabbing the handkerchief Javier holds out for me. He takes my place and digs his fingers deep into Michael’s jaw, holding so hard that the latter gives way and opens. Michael’s tongue peeks out, and with no patience left, I grip it using the small fabric square between my fingers.
Tears run down his face as I give it a harsh yank and then slice it clean off.
He sobs while his father is silent. Accepting.
I don’t kill the dumb fuck, and both know that can change in the blink of an eye.
“Now you can never speak of that which you do not know. You cannot put your life in danger or make friends with idiots that see you as easy pickings. Learn this lesson, own your mistake, and I will speak to you again in a month.” Michael nods, whimpering in pain while my men help him up. Hold his weight. “Next time, I will not be so forgiving. Never betray me or this family again.”
2
I’M PREOCUPIED.
My mind is replaying the last line inside the email my informant—the FBI agent—sent over midafternoon. It flashes on a loop:
Eagle. Claw. Fly.
Those three simple words cause my hands to clench and the leather beneath my hands to groan in protest. It’s been a few hours now since Michael was taken from here and his friend disposed of, and yet, as I connect more dots, the ire within me grows. Each tick of the clock throbs in time with the raging inferno rushing through my veins, and all because someone thinks they can take from me.
Because greed overrode common sense and they forgot their place.
Alton Foster made a move that will cost him. He ignores the rules.
In our business, discretion is law. You hear and see nothing.
I don’t care who you are or how you came to have the capital you hold; my job is to move it around and turn the dirty money into clean. Untraceable.
Owning one of the largest banks in the world has advantages, and I use every fucking one in my favor. With facilities in almost every large city inside the United States, Europe, and Asia—the high volume of monetary transactions—we are untouchable. Not unless you want to disrupt the nation’s economy.
