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Necros.
His name sends chills down even the most hardened criminals’ spines. He’s a skilled killer—an assassin. Necros is no ordinary man; he is an enigma with a reputation that precedes him like an ominous storm cloud.
My mind wanders back to our last encounter in New York. I happened to be in the wrong place at the right time when Necros became a target himself, his life in the crosshairs of two men looking for vengeance. I shot one, and he took out the other. He works alone, loyal to only one man: himself.
“Necros.”
Salem lights a cigarette, inhales the nicotine, then exhales the smoke from his lungs. “You know how to get in touch with this person without drawin’ attention?”
“I do.”
“Then do it.” Salem snuffs his cigarette, digs into his pocket, and tosses a burner phone across the table. I dial the numbers burned into my memory, hoping it still works, and put the phone on speaker.
“Speak.” The deep tone of his voice echoes off the stone walls.
I place the phone in the center of the table. “Necros.”
“Luca.” I hear rustling, then the sound of a door closing before the distant sounds of the city filter through the phone.
“I’m cashin’ in,” I tell him.
“I’m listening.”
“My father is here,” I inform him.
“I know.”
Of course he does. Necros makes it his business to know everything, even when he shouldn’t, which is why I called him.
“Why?”
“To bring you home, but you already know that. Why don’t you ask me something you don’t know?”
“Who wants him dead, and why?”
My question is met with a long stretch of silence.
“Your father is a greedy man, Luca. On his warpath to power and wealth, he’s made some terrible choices. Double-crossing a powerful man is one of many.”
“Who?” I become agitated that he’s dancing around the question.
Necros doesn’t respond for several seconds. “I can’t answer that one.” I sense Necros is being deceptive, but why? “I will send word that you wish to speak with him.” Necros is silent for a moment. “You are the answer to his problems, Luca.”
I don’t respond. With each passing second of silence, darkness closes in around me; it’s suffocating and oppressive.
“You are disposable, Luca. If you return, he will not let you sit on his throne for long. He will play the part of a proud father whose prodigal son has come home to take his rightful place. You’ll be a king among men. But then, he will give the order for you to die.”
Necros’s warning doesn’t fall on deaf ears. I was never foolish enough to believe anything different. I’ve always been a pawn in my father’s game. I also know Necros would be the man my father would call to take me out.
“Not if I kill him first.”
Necros chuckles. “I’ll wait for your next move.” He disconnects the call.
“What are you thinking?” Salem asks, and I can feel the heavy weight of his stare.
I look across the table, locking eyes with him. “We have to beat him at his own game.”
15
