Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
A mute numbness radiates through me. I stare after him, still in a state of shock. Melancholy soon follows.
So, that just happened.
Taking in a hitching breath, I stand, slipping my shoes on and reaching up to finger my now messed-up hair. Gripping the duffle in one hand, I reluctantly begin to move, hoping Julius might return, but knowing damn well he won’t. I throw the duffle over my shoulder, shuffling along the road, refusing to cry. I pass one block, then the next, and finally pass a third, when I turn toward the bright yellow and white flashing lights.
Vacancy.
With a sniff of despondency, I take a moment to swipe at the tears that rest on my cheeks, wipe my nose on my sleeve and walk toward the place where all of this started.
The Sunflower Inn.
I watch her stumble into the trashy-looking motel and smile at how fucked up she looks.
Didn’t see that coming, did you, bitch?
My phone rings in my lap, and I answer it without looking to see who’s calling.
“Watch her,” are the only words spoken before a gruff Julius hangs up.
When she makes it inside the building, I search my contacts and dial.
As the phone begins to ring, I wonder if this will all be worth dying for.
Bet you won’t see this coming either.
A harsh smile settles on my lips.
Fuck it.
If you’re going to go out, go out with a bang.
New York,
Two months into contract.
I knew Claudio Conti was going to be a pain in my ass even before I started looking for him. The problem? The asshole was a lush, and he loved to show just how wealthy he was. He had properties all over, most of which were secluded and private in every sense of the word. His security team was all ex-military. Everybody knew he was married, but nobody knew his wife. She didn’t have a name and was seldom seen. He rarely let people into his inner circle, and most of those he did ended up dead. Outsiders were considered a threat—man, woman or child. He didn’t trust anyone.
It was hard to track down a man who didn’t want to be found.
Most people had somebody they confided in, someone I could break open to reveal every dusty little secret they held in the dark, drafty corners of their mind.
Conti only had one of those, and he was all but untouchable. His name was Emil Barone, and he kept his shit tighter than a virgin asshole. Conti only had one loose end, and it was Emil.
Wherever Emil was spotted, you could be damn sure Claudio Conti would be found close behind.
There was his wife, but I didn’t know her—nobody knew her—and it seemed she was inaccessible. For all intents and purposes, the woman was a ghost.
We arrived in New York some days ago. I asked Happy to contact a few old associates for me who might know of Conti’s current whereabouts, but nobody gave him the time of day. That was the problem with being out of the game. No one considered you part of their world anymore, and Happy’s contacts were dwindling. I could call Nox, but he told me straight up that he was out, and I didn’t want to bring shit to his doorstep, not after all he’d done for me. There was one person I wished I could call, but couldn’t.
Julius was still part of the underground. He and Ling were their badass selves, going from town to town, making judgment on people who had fucked up enough for grown men to have to call a couple of so-green-they-were-barely-sprouting counselors to take care of business.
I was secretly proud of him. I knew he’d make it through after I’d gone. I’d have told him if I didn’t think it was necessary to keep him in the dark.
He and Happy were both my friends, but Julius was my brother. No competing with that. I would do everything in my power to protect him. It was crucial that he believe me dead. Otherwise, no one would. His reaction to finding out I had passed away needed to be genuine.
It fucking blew that I couldn’t contact him. If one person could find out where Conti was, it would have been Julius. Having Happy call him asking about Conti would raise way too much suspicion.
Part of me thought he would be here in New York. It’s where the majority of his properties are, not to mention his place of business. I don’t doubt he has more I don’t know about.
Conti was one of the old-schoolers. Sure, he was only in his thirties, but his pops taught him the lay of the land. The Contis took money from small businesses, and in return offered protection. That didn’t mean they were going to protect anyone from diddlysquat; it merely meant that the small business would be protected from them, the Contis, for a while.