Page 81

Concealed until the last moment, no time for the prick to scream before Regan slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged a blade across his throat.

He hit the ground with a thunk, then Regan moved to the box so he could cut the electricity to the security system.

Brody and Fuse would take out the guard on the opposite side and would round to the front to take out the last.

Giving me the clear.

My singular mission.

I scaled up a trellis attached to the back wall.

My heart thundered in my chest as I climbed. Hands and feet propelling me upward.

I swung up over onto the balcony outside his door.

I knelt as I pulled out my tool and picked the lock. An easy endeavor considering the asshole never believed anyone would make it that far.

One second later, I was a darkened ghost standing over his bed.

The piece of shit was splayed out on a mattress the size of Colorado.

Fast asleep just like I expected him to be.

I wouldn’t do this fucker the mercy of allowing him to die in his sleep.

I nudged his big toe with the barrel of my gun.

Watched him blink open his eyes in confusion before they went wide with terror.

“Who the fuck are you?”

He scrambled backward across his massive bed. I lifted my gun, and the heels of his feet dug into the mattress as he pressed himself against the velvet headboard that covered the entire back wall.

His eyes darted in every direction, like he thought his pathetic army would come to his rescue.

“The heathen sent to deliver you to Hell.”

His throat rolled as he swallowed. Calculating. Scheming. Pride surged up to replace the fear. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know exactly who you are.” It was a hard sneer.

“Then you know I can give you anything you want. Money. Women. Any possession you’ve ever desired. The world if you want it.”

I only wanted one woman, and I could never have her, and I’d already had a taste of his world. Had let it scourge and ruin.

“I only have one desire.” It was a low threat, and I held my gun casually aimed at him, though rage spiraled through my senses.

“Whoever sent you, I’ll⁠—”

I shook my head. “Get onto your knees like you made those poor workers do at the factory.”

Shock mixed with the dawning on his face, and I knew the moment he realized there was nothing he could say that could alter my intention.

When he understood what I’d come for.

Justice.

He dove for the gun sitting on his nightstand, and I moved, on him before he knew I was there.