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In less than thirty minutes, I’d learned more information than I had in over a month, specifically that the jackpot to everything we needed to blow open this case sat snug in that cubby of Shah’s. And of course, the name of the last elusive member of the Circle of Ten.
On the positive, or maybe not so positive, side, at least I wasn’t the only one who despised my uncles.
I could still hear the hatred in Kala’s voice as she said,“those corrupt diamond Patel brothers.”
Maybe she knew about my uncles’ involvement in my parents’ and brother’s deaths.
No, I couldn’t hope. I’d put the idea of learning the truth away long ago.
It had broken my heart to hear the worry and fear in Kala’s and Nimesh’s voices. Whoever they planned to contact, that person better protect the couple, or they’d deal with me.
“Van.” Noah’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Get moving. Forty-five minutes left on the clock.”
“Tell me you got the conversation through my mic.”
“It’s recorded and already sent to translation.”
“It’s loaded. Send a copy of the conversation to Neil.”
“Meaning?”
“It means there’s a jackpot inside that panel compartment. I have to get back here without anyone being the wiser. However, in the meantime, I’ve got something you need to pick up.”
“What’s that?”
“Skylar Anton.”
“I heard the international waters around the Maldives are very unpredictable and choppy. His super-yacht may run into trouble.”
“Want to call in some assistance?”
“Already done.”
“Two down and eight more to go.”
6
Sam
Five days.
Five fucking days since my conversation with Lilly, since I learned Devani ripped what we had to shreds for a fucking operation. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it.
It was time to get my shit together.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel of my Bugatti Chiron. Whenever I felt the urge to push the limits of my car without landing myself in jail, I came to this private motorway. It belonged to a Formula One racing team owner who owed the King family a favor or two.
I’d call ahead, the raceway manager would clear the track, and I’d have a few hours to run laps as I cleared my head of all the shit.
Sometimes I came here for the fun of it too. What was the point of having a garage full of state-of-the-art machinery and not pushing any of them to their limits?
My brothers ragged on me for my love of sports cars, saying I’d lost the streets by flaunting our wealth. Then I’d find a set of keys missing because one of the fuckers had borrowed a car.
Dicks.
I’d never forget the life I’d lived in the old neighborhood. I still had nightmares of being so cold, hungry, and desperate for a safe place to live that I’d nearly become a victim of a trafficking ring when I’d found myself at the steps of a shelter that wasn’t.
I probably wouldn’t be alive today if it hadn’t been for Nik and Kir. Nik had literally grabbed me and thrown my eight-year-old ass onto Kir’s bike before I could walk through the doors of that building.
