Page 126 of Devil's Bride

Little had the man known he’d signed his death warrant by doing so. While I doubted the young man was a true soldier belonging to Moroccans, the Turks regularly used young men as mules and confidants for a price. Often that included a promise of joining the ranks along with cash. He had no clue they rarely kept their promises.

I’d insisted Marco go with me. If Adan was spooked, he’d disappear and we’d never find him again. That had pissed Genevieve off, but this time I’d put my foot down.

“You know what to do,” I told Marco. I’d grilled him for information and provided a detailed plan that didn’t include him being offered a weapon.

“Yeah. I’ll text you when I see him,” Marco said. His tone was flat, his expression unreadable, but I sensed he felt the weight of his unknowing betrayal.

I had to give Genevieve credit. Not only had she figured out a clue much faster than I would have, but she’d applied enough pressure without shutting her brother down to obtain the information we needed.

But knowing her brother had been a part of her father’s death had hit her hard.

As had everything else.

I nodded toward him, returning to the shadows. We’d purposely waited until nightfall, the usual time they met at the gaming facility. Right now, the element of surprise was worth its weight in gold.

Marco wiped his hands on his jeans before heading inside. I’d left Kruz and other soldiers at the castle, Emiliano as well. A part of me was relieved her bodyguard hadn’t sold her out. I doubted she could take anything else right now without cracking.

“What if the kid doesn’t talk?” Antonio asked.

I’d begun to like his methods of handling business, including what he’d done with spreadsheets while actively combining both companies’ assets. He was also as brutal as my men if not more so.

“He’ll talk. Kids like that will sell their souls for money. They have no understanding of loyalty,” I told him.

Navarro chuckled.

I had five men with me, another group still scouring the streets for additional information. With the ship preparing to leave in a couple of days, my instincts told me the new Moroccan-Turk alliance would attempt another hit as a smokescreen if nothing else.

Beating them at their own game was vital.

Barely three minutes later, I received a text from Marco.

“We’re on. We lead him outside to talk,” I commanded, immediately heading to the entrance. As expected, the interior was dark, neon lights and low-level LED lighting providing little more than shadows. But I found Marco easily enough.

“Adan. We need to talk to you.”

The boy turned and faced us and he appeared older than his nineteen years. Too bad for him, he reached for a weapon. I snapped one hand around the back of his neck and the other around the hand on his pocket of his jacket where the gun remained hidden.

“I don’t think so. If you would like to keep your family jewels, you’ll come quietly.” I made certain to shift the barrel of his own weapon toward his crotch.

He got the idea, panting as I squeezed my fingers around his neck.

We managed to walk outside without incident.

Marco thumped against the brick exterior, but as soon as I released Adan, he lunged toward his friend. Within seconds, he’d managed to issue four brutal punches.

The kid wasn’t bad, but I pulled him off anyway.

“You fucking asshole. I thought you were my friend.”

Adan struggled to stand, taking labored breaths. “Yeah? Well, you thought wrong. You were just a meal ticket.”

I almost allowed Marco to attack him again, but motioned to Benito, who grabbed Marco’s arms.

“Go with him, Marco. I’ve got this.”

Marco hissed, even spitting in Adan’s direction.

I turned to face the traitor and pushed him against the wall. “Who did you sell the information to? That’s all I want.”