Page 149
Story: King of Envy
My team had gotten the flames under control. Roman had disappeared, as expected. We’d intercepted the emergency phone lines so no first responders would interrupt us, but it was still prudent to leave the scene as quickly and cleanly as possible.
When investigators finally looked into the explosion, they’d find planted evidence of a half-truth—a criminal leader taken out by his adversaries. Law enforcement never put too much effort into bringing a killer of killers to justice. Soon, the case would be relegated to the back of a drawer, never to be touched again.
Shepherd was dead.
The revelation cycled through my mind again. I expected to feel relief, but the boulder on my shoulders didn’t budge.
Roman’s near-death aside, the ease with which we’d taken out one of the Brotherhood’s faction leaders seemed anti-climactic.Tooanti-climactic. We hadn’t even called in Team B.
Was it really that easy? Was the new generation so sloppy, they’d fall victim to a hastily constructed scheme?
We had an inside source and the element of surprise on our side (sort of), which might explain our success.
Still, as my men and I tied up our loose ends and left, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that my troubles weren’t over yet.
CHAPTER40
Ayana
Iwaited on pins and needles all week to see Vuk again.
During that time, I shopped, knitted, watched TV, and declined a booking for next month. I’d expected Emmanuelle to retaliate in some way after I told her off, but she’d been quiet since our phone call. Hank was the one who’d sent me the campaign opportunity, but I wasn’t mentally prepared to go back to work yet.
He’d been upset, but he was the last thing on my mind when I arrived at the Valhalla Club’s indoor shooting range on Friday.
The facility looked like something out of a high-stakes spy thriller. Light gray stone floors, Kevlar-covered walls, fourteen state-of-the-art target lanes separated by custom-designed dividers that funneled firearm sounds down range, thereby reducing the decibel level in the stalls. According to the crisp black info sheet at the entrance, the range also boasted a gun-smoke-removing air filtration system and a virtual reality bay, whatever that meant.
Despite its high-end, high-tech trappings, it was completely empty save for Vuk and me. I was ten minutes early, but he was already waiting for me when I arrived.
Black shirt, black pants, black buzz cut. He looked the same as always, but my stomach cartwheeled like this was our first meeting ever.
I hadn’t seen him since D.C.
Six days. It felt like a lifetime.
A smile teased his lips when he saw me. “That’s your idea of a comfortable outfit?”
I’d opted for an ultra-soft cashmere dress and knee-high Christian Louboutin stiletto boots. I’d slicked my hair back into a bun and accessorized with a pair of simple gold studs. I didn’t want my jewelry to get caught on anything.
I shrugged, not seeing the problem. “I’m comfortable in heels and dresses.”
I’d been wearing stilettos since I was a teenager. At this point, I could run a marathon in them.
Vuk shook his head, but his grin widened a fraction of an inch.
“Did you take care of business?” I asked.
“Yes.” His eyes tracked me as I walked toward him, my hips swaying in a more casual rendition of my runway strut. A flare of heat swallowed the humor in his gaze.
“Did it go the way you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I came to a stop inches from him. The scent of vanilla, soft woods, and a hint of rum swirled in my lungs. He was wearing the cologne I’d bought him for his birthday. I breathed it in and suppressed a schoolgirl-giddy smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Good to know.” Amusement leaked into his eyes again, tempered by apology. “I’m sorry again for sneaking out in the middle of the night. The issue was…urgent.”
“It’s okay.” I stepped closer. My chest brushed his, and his breath hitched. “I know a way you can make it up to me.”
When investigators finally looked into the explosion, they’d find planted evidence of a half-truth—a criminal leader taken out by his adversaries. Law enforcement never put too much effort into bringing a killer of killers to justice. Soon, the case would be relegated to the back of a drawer, never to be touched again.
Shepherd was dead.
The revelation cycled through my mind again. I expected to feel relief, but the boulder on my shoulders didn’t budge.
Roman’s near-death aside, the ease with which we’d taken out one of the Brotherhood’s faction leaders seemed anti-climactic.Tooanti-climactic. We hadn’t even called in Team B.
Was it really that easy? Was the new generation so sloppy, they’d fall victim to a hastily constructed scheme?
We had an inside source and the element of surprise on our side (sort of), which might explain our success.
Still, as my men and I tied up our loose ends and left, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that my troubles weren’t over yet.
CHAPTER40
Ayana
Iwaited on pins and needles all week to see Vuk again.
During that time, I shopped, knitted, watched TV, and declined a booking for next month. I’d expected Emmanuelle to retaliate in some way after I told her off, but she’d been quiet since our phone call. Hank was the one who’d sent me the campaign opportunity, but I wasn’t mentally prepared to go back to work yet.
He’d been upset, but he was the last thing on my mind when I arrived at the Valhalla Club’s indoor shooting range on Friday.
The facility looked like something out of a high-stakes spy thriller. Light gray stone floors, Kevlar-covered walls, fourteen state-of-the-art target lanes separated by custom-designed dividers that funneled firearm sounds down range, thereby reducing the decibel level in the stalls. According to the crisp black info sheet at the entrance, the range also boasted a gun-smoke-removing air filtration system and a virtual reality bay, whatever that meant.
Despite its high-end, high-tech trappings, it was completely empty save for Vuk and me. I was ten minutes early, but he was already waiting for me when I arrived.
Black shirt, black pants, black buzz cut. He looked the same as always, but my stomach cartwheeled like this was our first meeting ever.
I hadn’t seen him since D.C.
Six days. It felt like a lifetime.
A smile teased his lips when he saw me. “That’s your idea of a comfortable outfit?”
I’d opted for an ultra-soft cashmere dress and knee-high Christian Louboutin stiletto boots. I’d slicked my hair back into a bun and accessorized with a pair of simple gold studs. I didn’t want my jewelry to get caught on anything.
I shrugged, not seeing the problem. “I’m comfortable in heels and dresses.”
I’d been wearing stilettos since I was a teenager. At this point, I could run a marathon in them.
Vuk shook his head, but his grin widened a fraction of an inch.
“Did you take care of business?” I asked.
“Yes.” His eyes tracked me as I walked toward him, my hips swaying in a more casual rendition of my runway strut. A flare of heat swallowed the humor in his gaze.
“Did it go the way you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I came to a stop inches from him. The scent of vanilla, soft woods, and a hint of rum swirled in my lungs. He was wearing the cologne I’d bought him for his birthday. I breathed it in and suppressed a schoolgirl-giddy smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Good to know.” Amusement leaked into his eyes again, tempered by apology. “I’m sorry again for sneaking out in the middle of the night. The issue was…urgent.”
“It’s okay.” I stepped closer. My chest brushed his, and his breath hitched. “I know a way you can make it up to me.”
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