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“I’ll be there when she wakes up.”
“So what? Are you going on a killing spree alone?” Hayden asks.
“Together,” Cato says, adding, “We rule, live, and die together.”
“What about your wives?”
“Chiara said to come back home only after I eliminate this threat. That means I have to move fast.”
“Aurora said she wants it done now, not a second later. And you know she always gets what she wants from me.”
“And my wife said she has to operate on yours and she doesn’t care what I have to do to bring the family back to normal.”
Ruthless women, just like their men.
“We get in and out, put the guards to sleep, and kill the heads. Clean shots, only they die,” Kieran says.
I gnash my teeth together, agony clawing at my jugular. “I want them at the compound. Alive.”
“Cam.” Kieran tries.
“That’s final. Let everyone see what we’re fucking capable of. This will give me the time I need to enjoy a worry-free life with my wife.”
If she survives. She will. She has to.
Putting on my black camo face mask, I load my gun and strap a knife around my ankle. We pat the tattoo we each have and run toward the black SUVs, with ten-man teams behind each of us. Each of us is to extract two leaders and travel to each location by plane.
Less than five hours later, we’re back at the compound with all eight leaders of the Brotherhood strung up in the basement, together with the two gunmen from the gala and hospital. These motherfuckers were arrogant to believe it would be easy to take us out. And yet, here they are, bound and at our mercy.
I look at my phone. The surgery is taking so long. It can’t be good, but I refuse to think of anything else but Violet’s survival. I’m functioning on pure rage and fucking fury.
Our ten guests are still sleeping from the drugs we injected into them. I can’t fucking wait to wake them up. Gasoline has been poured around them and matches are in their line of sight, along with a wall of knives. A long stretch of torture awaits them.
Rowan signals that the encrypted transmission is live.
On the screen, all six heads of the other criminal organizations have a front-row view of what’s about to happen.
Tonight is the night we cement in their minds that death and ruin await them if they try to go against us.
I take the cattle prod, giving each man an electric wake-up call as I walk down a line in front of them. They all stir and grunt.
“Wakey-wakey.”
I sit beside my brothers and watch our captives struggle with their restraints.
“This is your trial and judgment,” I say, cocking my head.
“Are you fucking delusional? You can’t take us down,” says Dominic Atkinson, the oldest among them.
I wave him off. “We already have.”
Kieran presses a button, and several screens appear. We’ve funneled every one of their assets through channels that lead right to us. It would be impossible to connect the dots.
We will split the Brotherhood’s four-billion-dollar fortune between us and their families. We’ll watch them like hawks. We’ll allow them to live as long as they continue to be upstanding citizens.
“You’ll die, all of you. Let us go,” Samuel Lawrence snarls. He’s the leader who made the call to the shooter.
I have had enough. Getting into his face, I press the knife into his eye. “Until my phone rings, I’ll be torturing you. And once there’s nothing left, I’ll burn you alive. That was your plan, right? To burn down everything we worked for?”
