AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes. Tell me about our latestpotentialacquisitions,” I command. Monica appraises the different failing businesses with risk analysis predictions, which statistically means which ones are a shot out of the bloody ballpark. Next, she divulges anything our team can uncover that’s not on paper.
That’s the bloodygrayarea.
Once complete, I begin a video chat with my entire financial board. Of all my obligations I disdain, these meetings aren’t one of them. My team is the foundation of my thriving business.
About an hour into the discussion, the board’s divided between a riskier company and a solid lead. High-risk or high reward.
“Victor, may I?” Hartford, the only one with a soul on our team, leans forward in his chair. On occasion, his slow, steady pursuit wins me over. Although bulldozing businesses brings the rush I’ve learned from my father, I must realize this isn’t a game of chess. Yes, we’re screwing with people’s lives. Founders who have built their business from the ground up. It’s imperative each time we demolish a company that this is a sure thing.
“Take the floor, Hartford.”
While Hartford tentatively introduces his ideas, Burt silently approaches me. On a silver tray is the cell phone, which only transmits X-Member calls.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I must excuse myself. By all means, continue.” My brows hitch in an attempt at an apology.
In another life, Whitson would’ve been dead already, Lux in mourning, and myself at the billion-dollar meeting I’m logging off of.
With only a slither of moonlight in the room, my gaze flickers over Burt. I take the phone, pushing the accept button.
“X-Member Customer Support.” The voice is professional and male.
I unmute the phone, uttering a clipped greeting.
“Hello, Victor. Have you heard of the term, don’t bite the hand that feeds you?”
“That I have,mate.”
“Good. You’re also aware of X-Member’s mission—pleasing our benefactors is paramount.”
Rubbish.X-Member is all about securing the kill swiftly. Who is the bloody benefactor in Whitson’s case?
“Have you taken ill?”
“No.”
“What would cause you to sit on a mark for three weeks, sir?”
Bollocks, there’s an algorithm. A bloody computer equipped with checks and balances that calculates when a usual target is expired, I’m certain of it.I think back to my conversation with Fuyoung and also recall when I first started with X-Member. To secure the best, I attacked the best. Purloined Jackson’s kills right beneath his nose. But now that I’m peerless, I’ve never not expired a mark within two weeks. I spend a week, maybe, musing overhow, butnot much longer. And with no other assassins to settle the score, my bloody time’s up.
“I have reason to believe the requestor is operating under false pretenses.”
Soon as said, I drop my head back and silently curse myself for Luxury’s hold.
“Is that a concern?” replies the liaison from X-Member.
I rub the back of my neck. Yes, I’ve murdered innocent people to satiate the hunger Father created. My father’s words whisper in my ear even now as if my finger is on the trigger, all ready for the kill shot. However, for the sake of my reputation with X-Member, I add, “I don’t fucking appreciate being lied to. Profiles can be one sentence long, no explanation given, and I couldn’t give a shit. It’s all a form of art. This time, I was misled. That’s unacceptable.”Fuck, I’m spouting rubbish!
Theblokewith a hard-on for Whitson practically wrote a dissertation on why he should die. Now, I’m as curious as the girl I can’t get out of my system.
“Ah, you’ve assumed the noble route, have you?”
Technically. “Yes.”
The man sighs. “You were previously wired five hundred—”
“This is about five hundred thousand pounds!” I shout.
Tosh!All right, an error on my part. It’s not my bloody problem that X-Member wires their crummy compensation once the mark’s chosen. It’s not a clever business strategy, relying on the honor code.
