Page 90 of Ruthless

“Let me out here.” Luca points to the deli Sara, Jeremy, and I went to for lunch the other day, and I pull over without question. After he hops out, we exchange a glance rife with the understanding that this might be the last time we see one another before I continue on to SilverTech.

Outside the office, it’s just another Friday morning. Cars line the street and the sidewalk fills with pedestrians headingto work or sightseeing, unaware of what’s happening inside the office building a few yards away. An attractive brunette gives me a bright smile as she passes, but I ignore her. If the Council kills me, she’ll be considered a witness, and I don’t want any more innocent blood on my hands.

My mind wanders back to Sara, who’s probably still screaming in her cell, but I don’t let myself dwell on her. Hopefully, saving Jeremy’s life will be enough for her to start to forgive me…for all my sins. But even if she hates me forever, her safety trumps everything else, including my own life.

Inside, the lobby is crawling with people. Zanni assured me during our call that they’d cleared the building ofcivilians, but the current scene contradicts his claim. Not that I trusted him anyway. I recognize most of the people here as employees, but there are a good number of strangers milling around as well.

What the hell are they doing here?

I don’t have fucking time for this. I spot Gregor across the room and stride his way. He’s alone, which means our men are on standby until we can clear the building.

“Where—?” I want to ask him about the Council because they must be here somewhere, but I don’t get the chance to finish the question. Gregor shakes his head, the motion jerky, and I follow his gaze to Jeff in accounting.

As Jeff lowers his phone, the deadness in his eyes pings my memory. I can imagine him wearing a blank-faced mask, and a shiver travels down my spine.

My hackles rise, and my neck swivels to Tristan from the marketing department over by the vending machines, then Carl behind the security desk.

Five.

Twenty.

Forty-five.

Fuck.

The room’s full of the Council’s soldiers. Men and women who do their dirty work. Cannon fodder whose identities don’t matter one way or another. Many of these people have worked at SilverTech for months, even years in some cases, but I still can’t predict where their real loyalties lie.

This is one situation where I hate that I’m right.

How great is the Council’s influence, how far is their reach, that they can throw around this kind of manpower?

One by one, their perfect facades peel away as they turn to stare. Conversations die until an eerie hush envelops the entire room, as if someone pressed mute on the remote control.

“Go report back to Luca.” My order is painfully loud, which causes Gregor to hesitate. That familiar mulishness surfaces for the briefest of seconds before he jogs off to do as he’s told.

As soon as the doors to SilverTech slide shut, a familiar figure strolls onto the balcony overlooking the main lobby. Resting his elbows on the balustrade, Zanni cocks his head, his mask shining eerily under the bright lights. “Clock’s ticking, Argento.”

Patrick Leone, the acting CEO of my company for the past three years, swaggers toward me with a saccharine smile. I wonder how long he’s been stabbing me in the back only to turn around and kiss my ass in the boardroom. “This way, sir.” Right now, his southern drawl, once a welcome reprieve among the clipped vowels of city locals, grates on my nerves.

He’s probably waiting for me to crumble under the weight of his betrayal, but that would imply that I trusted anyone here to begin with. Instead, I feel like a moron for falling for the Council’s manipulations.

Seething, I follow Patrick’s lean form to the stairwell. At the door, he pauses and tilts his dark blond head to the waiting shadows below. “They’re in the basement.” He winks, hisheterochromatic eyes reflecting a sinister gleam. “Try not to make too big a mess.”

He waits until I edge past, and then the door snicks shut, sealing me in deafening silence. Closing my eyes, I fill my lungs with stale air. I hate that I can’t tell whether I’m being catered to or led around on a leash.

They’ve been playing me this entire time.

My mind flashes back to the townhouse siege. In the grand scheme of things, the Council going to such lengths to keep Sara and I apart almost seems petty. Then again, no one ever claimed the men behind those masks were well-adjusted.

I massage my throbbing temple and wonder when my entire life decided to jump the shark. When I consider the past five years, I can’t help but wonder how many of my decisions were my own. How many people in my life are merely extensions of the Council’s sphere of influence?

It could be anyone.

It could be everyone.

The thought knifes my stomach, and my head starts to throb. Fuck. I need to hold myself together. This is the culmination of five years’ worth of nightmares and dozens of deaths.

As I near the bottom landing, I extract my gun from its holster in the small of my back beneath my t-shirt and raise it in a two-handed grip, my elbows slightly bent.