Page 51 of Devil's Claim

Not that I needed any.

However unhinged my manner of thinking was, there was always merit for a touch of insanity in my world. That’s what kept me mostly sane.

Now I’d concentrate on the bad taste filling my mouth. Malcolm was a vile human being deserving of exactly what was going to happen to him.

I laughed softly to myself and pulled her phone into my hand. While I’d forgotten to learn her passcode or to snap a picture of her face for photo recognition, as soon as I pressed my finger on the screen, her screensaver was the last nail in the coffin.

The photograph was of Christine with a little boy in her arms. Christine was smiling, her eyes lit up with the same fire I’d seen so many times. But there was a slight difference. Those stunning eyes the color of spring were filled with joy, not anger.

And the adorable little boy was laughing.

I rubbed my thumb across the photo. She deserved to be happy. Maverick deserved to be in his mother’s arms.

Too bad what I’d told her about heroes was the truth.

Slowly exhaling, I returned the phone into my jacket pocket. This was still going to be a long night.

CHAPTER 13

Kruz

“You’re using a silencer tonight, boss? That isn’t like you,” Benito said as he flanked my side.

I peered down at the weapon in my hands, shrugging. “If the child is in the house, I don’t want him disturbed.” Most men in the Torres employ had no understanding of the caution needed when raising children.

Not that I was some expert.

Yet I knew the basics.

“Ah, got you.”

I peered up at the structure, shaking my head. The man lived opulently. As I’d expected.

Meanwhile, Christine lived in poverty.

A disgrace.

My home was surrounded by a stone wall, guards approving anyone entering my property, those without invitation turned away. Generally, four soldiers walked the several acres of property every night, at least one man, usually a driver with me at all times. My vehicles were all altered, including bulletproof glass and reinforced steel on the body panels.

The windows inside my home had also recently received an upgrade to bulletproof. That had been after Fassi and his Turkish cohort had attempted to take out the Torres Empire. It would seem resting on our laurels had been overblown. Even our reputation as being little more than savage thugs hadn’t kept them from attacking.

I found it interesting that either arrogant, wealthy men acted as if no one would ever dare cross the sanctity of their home, or guarded it like Fort Knox, believing themselves to be akin to God. Fortunately for me, Malcolm believed himself to be untouchable. That made entering his home that much easier.

There wasn’t even an alarm system, which did surprise me. Miami wasn’t known for its high lawfulness. Yet I’d take the win without complaining. With lights on in the house, someone was inside. Perhaps he had housekeeping working late. I wouldn’t put that past him either.

I despised men like him.

My luck continued with finding the side door off the garage unlocked. I walked in and the automatic light overhead turned on. That allowed me to see the man’s collection. Selling a single one of the vehicles could pay for somewhere decent for Christine and her son to live.

Not his son.

Her son.

The man was racking up points that didn’t lead to a prize at the end.

Unless someone enjoyed eating a bullet.

After rolling my hand across the different hoods and feeling warmth from one, I felt fairly confident Malcolm had arrived safely. Luck of the draw being able to escape the carnage.