Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 171979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 573(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 573(@300wpm)
“I texted her from Mirage’s phone; told her he quit and gave her my number.”
Creed stared at her in disbelief. “You’re joking?”
“No.”
“Noobs.”
“Everyone thinks they can be an assassin in real life, yet few live to make the big bucks.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I’d think it over and get back to her tomorrow, but that I don’t come cheap.”
“No, you don’t.” He chuckled. “How much you ask for?”
“One hundred K.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why’d you give her a discount?”
“I didn’t want her shopping around.” Tossing her long black hair over her shoulder, Daria adjusted the clip that held her hair back. “Does that give you enough time to deal with Victoria? Or do you want to pay for my services to get rid of her permanently? I’ll give you a discount, since you’re going to have to pay me for taking care of Mirage for you.”
“I’ll pay your protection fee, but I’m not paying you for killing Mirage. I wanted the fucker alive,” he argued. “Jackal would have taken him alive.”
“You’re such a tightwad. Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll do the bitch for two hundred.”
“You were going to charge Victoria one hundred.”
“Because she’s a woman. I give discounts to women, especially if they’re on men. It doesn’t bother me to take out another one of those fuckers.”
“You need to have a set number of prices. Your prices are all over the place.”
“Yeah … listen to who’s talking.” Casting him a snide look, she flipped him off. “How many favors you give away this week?”
“This is why we could never make a relationship work between us—all we do is bicker.”
“Losing you was no big loss.” She shrugged, looking away from him.
Creed instantly regretted bringing up their previous relationship.
“I’m sorry. That was out of line,” he apologized. “I appreciate you coming so quickly, and for taking care of the noob for me. I’ll send the money to your account in the morning.”
Daria turned to face him with a smug smile. “Who’s the noob now? Baby cakes, we’ve been over for three years. I haven’t been carrying a torch for you. You forget who broke up with whom?”
“I didn’t forget.” He reached out to lightly touch Daria’s soft cheek. “You nearly ripped off my dick. I still have PTSD from that night.”
Daria tilted her head to the side. “From the way Sage ran away from your car, it doesn’t look like you learned your lesson.”
Soberly, he glanced away from her. “I have now.”
At hearing Daria’s low sigh, he knew she had figured out what he had done.
“What do you want me to do about Victoria?” she questioned, not asking for any of the details between him and Sage.
“I’ll take care of her. If you got Sage’s back until I can get my message across to the Ashwoods, I would appreciate it.”
“No problem.” She shrugged. “I’m here, anyway. I might as well play bodyguard.”
“What did you do with Mirage?”
Daria tapped the trunk of her sedan.
“You want me to take him off your hands?” Creed asked.
“No, he’s a little messy. There’s no need to dirty your suit or ride.”
“You think any more about the other job I offered you?”
“Baby cakes, it’s a hard no on that one. You and I both know if Kaston links Ice’s protégé to the jewelry, he’s already dead,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I told Ice. He wants me to take the job. I can’t. I’m getting married in two days. I have to tone down my workload.” Creed stretched his shoulders, giving Daria a serious look. “You’re the only chance he has.”
“I’ll think about it. It depends on how quickly the job I’m working on winds down.” Daria nodded toward Sage’s apartment building. “Go home. You look tired as fuck. I’ll make sure she survives until the wedding.” Straightening from the car, she raised her hand.
Creed lifted his, giving her a fist-bump. “Thanks, Daria.
“Yeah, yeah … Just send me my money. I have to buy a new car.”
FORTY-ONE
Creed drove to the gate callbox. After rolling his window down, he pressed a series of numbers onto the call pad. When he was finished, he rolled his window back up, and the metal gate slowly slid open. He had to roll his eyes at lack of security as he drove through the gates, following the long driveway until the house came into view. The mansion was so big it was obnoxious.
Parking to the side of the garage, he grabbed his briefcase before getting out of the car. Walking to the front door saved him a trip to the gym, he thought, as he rang the doorbell.
A maid opened the door.
“I have an appointment. My name is Kent Bryant.”
“They are expecting you, Mr. Bryant.” Politely, she motioned him to come inside.
Closing the door, the maid led the way through a marbled foyer then made a left. That was when he saw a sunken living room.