Page 1 of Shades of Loyalty
Chapter One
Daniel
We’re here to meet with Volkov’s men. Two pieces of intel. Two sentences. That’s all we’re here for, and I want to get this over with quickly.
I don’t fuck around, and I surely don’t want to spend half an hour to find these guys.
I take a few looks around the dark alley, careful to keep my footsteps quiet. My senses stay sharp—the last thing I want is to get killed by some low-level rival dealers.
It would be a pathetic way to go.
Embarrassing, even.
My heartbeat spikes as a figure appears to my right. Instinct kicks in, and I raise my gun.
My finger twitches on the trigger just a second before I realize whose face it is that I’m staring at, followed by a wave of relief punching through me.
“Chill, man. It’s just me,” Hayden whispers, his voice low. I nod but don’t raise my voice.
The more we talk, the greater the chance someone might spot us. We’re here to make a deal—not to kill—but one wrong action might fuck all this up, ending in the death of someone.
Hayden moves ahead, taking the lead while I scan the area. Where the fuck are they?
We’re here to get information about a lost shipment. It’d take them two sentences to tell me that information.
Yet their boss is too much of a coward to send an email. “Too risky,” my ass.
Our security system is one of the best. I hired the most sought-after men in the country just to get everything set up the right way.
Just when I’m about to speak up for the first time, a sudden crack splits the dark morning hours of Chicago.
It’s a gunshot — and not a quiet one, at that. They must be amateurs.
Fuck — are they his trainees?
Volkov promised to send his best-trained men.
It’d be bold of him to send them without a silencer.
So, we’ve got two options: either Volkov fucked up his choice of men, or we’re the ones who’re fucked if we’ve got some drugged-up maniacs out there.
Either way, someone might’ve been shot. If so, for fuck’s sake, I hope it isn’t my trainee, Roy.
And trust me, if it is Roy, the one responsible can start practicing their prayers now — because I’ll make sure they’re going to need them.
I glance at Hayden, but he’s already meeting my gaze, wide-eyed. “This is… great,” he mutters, nodding toward a small hole in the wall ahead.
I roll my eyes and step through, my mood dropping lower than the graves I bury my enemies in.
My worst-case scenario greets me: five men standing in the dark, and one of my men lying motionless in a growing pool of blood.
Roy. Roy, who I’d grown up with. Roy, who’d just fucking gotten engaged.
Roy. Who’s the trainee I was supposed to fucking protect with my life.
You failed again.
I clench my jaw, forcing myself to stay calm. If I hadn’t learned how to control my temper when I was young, I would’ve put holes through all their worthless heads already.
