Page 112 of Ruthless Lord

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The coward scampers off like a scared deer, disappearing down to the property line.

I let my eyes adjust. I’m standing in a large living area surrounded by lavish couches, expensive furniture, a big TV against one wall, and a bar opposite. Everything’s dark and nothing’s moving.

I touch the transmitter in my ear. “You there?” I ask quietly.

“We see you.” Charlie’s voice, warm and comforting. “Were you being nice to my dad?”

“Not really.”

“Good. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Where am I right now?”

“Technically, that’s the great room. I’m pretty sure I was the only person who ever used it.”

“Where’s your grandfather?”

“Upstairs in his suite. It’s late, so guards should be minimal.”

I check my watch. Ten past three in the morning. “Shift change is when?”

“Six sharp. You have plenty of time before that happens.”

“Good.” I drift forward, making almost no noise. Sneaking around and assassinations aren’t really my thing, but after that fucker sent his security guy after my wife, I decided I’m going to do this one personally. “Alright, love. This place is big. Walk me through it.”

“Right, okay. There should be a door up ahead…”

She gives me directions as I move through the silent building. At one point, I have to duck into a gaming room as a tired, yawning guard wanders past. He’s carrying a compact submachine gun tucked under an arm and a phone in both hands. The bastard’s watching fucking YouTube soccer highlights on duty.

“Must be nice, being so fucking rich,” I murmur once he’s gone and I’m moving again.

“Not really. You’re never alone.”

“Gives you the illusion of safety at least. I never had that growing up.”

“You seem to have done pretty well for yourself anyway.”

“’Cause I cracked skulls.”

“Got your skull cracked plenty too.”

“Good point. Probably why I am the way I am.” I hesitate, peering around a bend in the hall. “How close am I right now?”

“Should be getting near it. One more turn to the left. There will be at least one guard on his door though.”

“He probably won’t be wandering, huh?”

“Better hope he’s watching his phone.”

“For his sake.” I step forward, whispering now. “When I’m inside, you don’t want to listen to this. Turn off the sound.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Charlie—”

“Grandfather’s been the center of my life for so long. If we’re going to kill him, the least I can do is hear his last words.”

“Last words are overrated. They’re never that great.”