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This fucker here was the last person who could help me.
Hehadto talk.
I was running out of options.
Leaving the lump on the landing once I dropped down to grab a length of rope from my kit, I headed up the stairs.
It was an open mezzanine, but it suited my purposes.
With two landings that looked out onto the massive hall of the palace, it enabled me to loop the rope around one of the ornate balustrade railings and dangle it to the next floor before I tied it in a timber hitch knot to secure it.
Now that it was swaying vertically, I retreated to the prince’s side. Once there, I tugged on the rope then tied both ends into a square knot. With the gap in the middle, I looped it around his feet then tightened it.
With more brute force than I’d like—I was pretty fucking sure I popped a vertebra hefting his weight over the railing—I let gravity do the work for me and watched him dead drop.
If my calculations were wrong, he’d snap his neck and break his face if he collided with the floor.
Luckily for him, my math was never wrong.
His muffled scream was music to my ears as he came to a halt a bare inch from the parquet flooring.
After gently twisting my back to ease the strain he’d caused, I loped downstairs and kicked him in the junk to make him swing.
I hadn’t found any evidence that indicated he deserved a sprained penis, but my rep was from damage down below and I was sure the fucker had donesomethingin his life to earn it.
“I can keep this up for a while. Turn you in circles and make you drown in your own vomit,” I taunted him. “That’s before I bring out the knives. You see, Your Highness, I need your help and youwillgive it to me.” I kicked him a few more times, watching him sway. “You could end it easily tonight. A simple overdose. No pain. Just death. Or we can play.”
This time, I had to go the whole nine yards. If it didn’t look like an accident as the others did, then it was tough shit.
I needed answers, and I could admit to myself that I was growing desperate.
But I would not bend.
I would not break.
Allowing my threat to sink in, I retrieved the photograph from my pocket.
For a moment, I stared at it.
Ever since I’d seen it when I was cataloging what I’d found in the motel room of the once-Prez of the Satan’s Sinners’ MC, Bear, it had been haunting me.
Bear had annotated on the back:United Brotherhood?
That was what I’d been trying to figure out.
I’d recognized three of them. Three random officials from three different countries.
One, a high-ranking politician in the Chinese Communist Party. Two were princes, easily renowned for their playboy ways back in their heyday. But it was the fourth one…
I recognized him.
I just didn’t know how.
No names were on the back. Either Bear didn’t know who they were or he didn’t feel the need to make a note of them.
I wished he had.
It would have saved me a lot of torture.
