Page 100 of When He Lies
“Can’t do that, boss,” a flat voice told him. “You’ve got a very big day ahead of you, remember?”
He rolled over on the bed. Frederick was a bit surprised to realize that he was on top of the covers, not beneath them. He was also still fully dressed. A horrible, grimy taste seemed to fill his mouth, and his temples throbbed so hard that nausea rolled through his whole body. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Not unexpected, considering how much you drank last night.”
Memories flooded through him. He’d drank so much because everything was screwed to hell and back. He closed his eyes and let his head sag back against the pillow. “That bitch Simone…” It was all her fault. “She’s fucked me over.” He tried to remember. “Is she dead yet?” He had put a hit on her. Had he doubled it? Or canceled it? Things were blurry. But he did remember being on the laptop near his bed. He remembered tapping out something before the whole world got super hazy.
“Simone is not dead. Which is a good thing because she’s going to be an important player in the game.”
“Not a game.” He needed something to drink. Water this time. Because his throat was parched. “This is my life!” His voice had risen, but a raised voice just made his head ache more, so he lowered it, fast. “My life,” he rasped. “She’s wrecking it. All because of those jewels she stole.”
“About those…” The wooden floor creaked as Hugo walked toward the bed. “I did some digging on the pieces she took. Alexei had texted you, saying he’d recovered a broach and matching earrings from her. Those items were not in the stables, so we can assume that Simone swiped them before she made her exit.”
“Before she killed Alexei and made her exit.” Should he try opening his eyes again? No. Too much nausea still filled him. Frederick concentrated on taking slow, shallow breaths. Those small breaths helped steady him.
“You had those particular pieces taken in order to get revenge against Logan Sterling, didn’t you? Logan…I believe he’s the hotel and casino owner from the States?”
So, fine, color him impressed. Hugo was a thug. Sure, a thug with some serious fighting skills, but not exactly someone Frederick had thought was overly high on the intelligence scale. Yes, the pieces had belonged to Logan Sterling. Or, rather, to someone in Logan’s family. “Bastard thought he was too good to do business with me. He owns those gaudy hotels and casinos but wouldn’t invest in me. Me. I’m related to royalty!”
“How fantastic for you,” Hugo murmured.
“I showed him. He’s not better than me. No one is better!” The nausea might be fading. Good. Because he did have work to do.
The meeting with Ryan Quinn had to be a success. He had to convince Ryan that Simone was trouble. “Turn out those lights, would you? They’re too freaking bright.” Before he opened his eyes again, he needed those overhead lights off.
“You’re a petty man, Frederick. When someone makes you angry, you immediately strike out. So much of that fancy stuff in your gallery was stolen. Trophies you’d taken to get back at your enemies. You’d go in there, all smug, and you’d stare at your prizes, and you would think you were so much better, so much smarter than everyone else.”
His eyes cracked open. “You didn’t turn off the lights.” He’d given an order. How hard was it to follow a basic order?
“Then Simone Sailor came along. She tricked you. Played you for a fool, and she took those prizes right out of your precious gallery. You lost the broach, the earrings, and, let’s not forget, the egg. The egg and the ever-so-important chip that was inside of it.”
“Don’t really need a recap.” He swallowed down a bit of bile as he sat up and swung his legs to the side of the bed. “I need the lights turned off.”
But Hugo made no move to kill the lights. He just kept standing near the bed and…what was in the guy’s hand?
“You promised Konstantin that you would take care of the chip. You were supposed to make sure it was delivered to the proper individuals.”
Yes, well… “I’ll work on getting the chip back today from Ryan. I’ll let him know that Simone is a thief and that she took it from me. I’m sure we can come to some sort of an agreement. As long as Konstantin doesn’t know what’s happening, I can salvage this situation.” There was still time to turn everything around. He could do it. He knew that he could.
“You can’t salvage shit.”
Frederick leapt to his feet. He immediately weaved but was able to maintain his balance. “How dare you talk to me that way? I am your boss! I give the orders, and you can’t?—”
“You’re not really my boss. You’re dead broke. The person who pays the bills—the person who makes sure I get the money that I am owed—that would be Konstantin.”
He’d just realized what item Hugo held in his hand. A shiver of fear slid down Frederick’s spine. Hugo’s right hand was curled around the brass handle of a knife. A long blade, double-sided, pointed straight at Frederick. “Wh-why do you have that?”
“This knife is a favorite among British Special Forces. Has been, since WWII.”
Did he look like he wanted a history lesson? “Get it away from me, you bloody fool!” He needed to shower. To change. To get in his car and have his driver take him to the meeting in London. What time had Ryan said? Eight?
But Hugo didn’t move the knife. “Seven-inch blade,” he explained. Unnecessarily. “Sharp on both sides. A lethal tip. It’s great for fighting in close quarters with an enemy. The blade is narrow enough in design that it can easily go right through a person and dive into, say, a ribcage. Here, let me show you.”
“What? No! You—ah!”
The knife had just slid into him.
Into him.
