Page 6

A short trip up, and I faced another receptionist. This one more beautiful than the girl downstairs and surrounded by an office full of colorful birds...just the way the voice of our organization liked it.

“Is Atlas in a meeting?” I called as I walked by.

“Mr. Drakos is in his office. There are no meetings on his morning schedule,” she informed me, perfect nails tapping on the tablet in front of her.

In front of the corner office, the hag was perched on her throne. Becca Stevenson was classically beautiful, and it was impossible to tell her age. Face free from paint, nails unpainted, and hair clipped boyishly short without a provocative style, Becca was a creature from nightmares when incensed.

Exactly why she guarded the CEO’s office.

“He’s busy.” Becca’s grey eyes were full of warning. Unlike the beautiful women flitting about this place, she never had a problem meeting my eye, of looking at my fucked-up face.

The woman was immune to monsters.

“Good.” I marched past her and pushed into the office.

Atlas looked up, annoyance tightening his features. “Let me call you back, Hektor. Markos is here.” There was a pause. “Alright, I’ll see if he’s heard anything on the streets about the sender.”

The CEO pressed a button on the receiver and took out his earpiece. The gun-metal grey suit was customed tailored to fit his lethal frame.

“We receivedanotherletter?” I mused. “What is that, three?”

“Four,” Atlas growled.

“Mr. Drakos, do you want me to escort Mr. Demetriou out?” the prim secretary said with a slight sneer. She might just be the only woman strong enough to do it. The temptation to make her try was almost too much to resist.

“No, it’s fine, Miss Stevenson. Markos knows it had better be important to barge in here,” Atlas clipped out.

Behind me, the secretary closed the door. If I wasn’t high on her shit list, I would be now.

“So no one knows who’s sending the letters? Awful bold of our would-be competition to announce themselves like this. ‘We are going to take you down.’ ‘Watch out!’ ‘We’re coming for you.’” I let out a half laugh before I tipped my chin up and to theside. My neck cracked, relieving some of the tension. “They’re either cocky or they’re stupid. My money is on stupid.”

“What did you do this time?” the CEO accused, ignoring the annoying piece of business that the leaders of our syndicate were dealing with and jumping to the heart of the matter.

I plucked a decorative glass apple from the basket on his personal conference table. “Accusing me? What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“With you?” Atlas snorted. “What the fuck did you do, you ugly mutt?”

Mutt...that was a good way to describe a monster like me. It was one of the kinder terms used by the leadership of our organization.

Tossing and catching the apple, I moved to the window. Past the other structures creating a metropolitan jungle, the faintest glimpse of the sea sparkled beyond. If I ran now, I could dive into the waves and swim away.

“Markos!”

“There’s a guest staying in the village,” I said, keeping the sigh from escaping.

Darkness filled the CEO’s voice. His polished business veneer was dangerously close to slipping, and the de facto king of the criminal empire was close to coming out to play—which he would by the end of this conversation. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is an outsider doing there?”

“She was abducted by mercenaries who mistook her for their target.” The apple sailed high in the air.

“Markos—you didn’t.”

The apple dropped into my palm. “I did.”

“Christos sancti.”

The red orb rose again and fell.

“You were expressly forbidden from kidnapping the Bratva princess.”