AllFreeNovel
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The end of September and we’re dealing with the first Indian summer of the season.
Not my favorite weather.
Not when sweat coats my skin and makes killing a chore rather than a joy.
Another block and I keep my focus on my feet, one in front of the other. People step off the sidewalk into the street to avoid me. The faceless threat they don’t have to look at to feel inside their skin.
Soon those filthy streets washed with heartache and stress and strife as much as rain give way to cleaner cement. Larger trees and more space between buildings. They’re shorter here with the occasional three- or four-story, though most are wider than they are tall.
I stop in front of a disgustingly luxe complex with a ten-foot iron fence around the property and pristine white gables. The white stands out in stark relief against the gloom of the sky and the dull red brick.
Money can accomplish anything if you have enough of it.
Broderick Stevens plays this city like a guitar. He’s got more than enough.
When I first got involved with the Black Market Syndicate, Broderick held our covert meetings in a warehouse he owns near the water. Now I’ve proven my worth many times over.
I’m allowed into his private residence.
I push my way into the front lobby area of the private complex and incline my head at two of the men dressed in black with ear pieces discreetly tucked into the curve of their right ears. Neither of them moves towards me.
The elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and I press the button for the floor beneath the penthouse. That entire floor is Broderick’s private office.
I use the seconds to slick my hair back, mentally composing myself for this meeting. It won’t be pretty. They never are.
Each one of them follows the same agenda and they always leave me with a bad taste in my mouth.
The elevator doors open up to a foyer composed of seamless marble and all-white walls, the starkness an assault on the senses rather than a balm. I’ll never admit that it’s worked on me a time or two before I got really fucking good at raising my defenses.
I stalk forward to his office and close the door behind me.
This is opulence at its finest. The boss has a real taste for all things luxury, from the finishes on the crown molding to the gold leaf filigree on the ceiling mural. It straddles the line between tacky and old-Versailles.
Rather than Broderick himself waiting for me, his second-in-command stands in front of a merrily crackling fire in the black stone hearth.
“You’re late,” Antoni gripes.
I swallow over the litany of curses I’d like to throw his way and lift my gaze to the man’s face.
“I took care of things,” I tell him sharply. “And I don’t answer to you.”
“Well, tonight Broderick has decided that you do.” His grin widens. “He handed the end of your leash to me. And I need you to take care of a new mark. You’ll find all the information you need on the desk.”
Antoni’s face is cast in firelight and shade, making it impossible to know an accurate age. There’s only the sparse dirty-blonde hair, the glint of a beard, and his hands clasped behind his back.
He makes no move to the desk. It’s not his place.
Rather than get into the pissing contest I’m itching for, I grab the manilla envelope and stuff it inside my jacket. I won’t take the thing off despite the humidity and the heat from the fire. Principle.
“Got it,” I assure him.
“Oh.” As I’m leaving, Antoni tosses me a lighter and I reach out and pluck it from the air on instinct. “Broderick made this one a priority,” he says. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“I never do,” I bark out.
I’m too damn good at my job.
And knowing the types of idiots Broderick targets, this new mark might be a priority but it’s going to be as easy as pie.
