Page 13 of Broken Promises
He sits beside me, his back straight, muscles tense, a focused, determined look on his face. He can pull the wool over Julij and Anatolij’s eyes, acting composed, but I’ve known him for years. I see past the mask. Fury courses through his veins just as it does through mine. He’s ready to leave and not come back until he finds the hitman. He’d take his rage out on him first before dragging him back to me, half-alive, so I could finish the job.
“Anyone who wants to try,” Anatolij says with a heavy sigh. “Frank opened the hit to anyone willing.”
“Anopenhit?” Spades clips. “He couldn’t find a single person dumb enough to take the job?”
I rake my hand through my hair. “Quite the opposite. If he hired one guy, I’d find and kill the fucker. By opening the hit, he took control out of my hands.”
It’s frustrating how well I know Frank.Knewhim. Deciphering his intentions is child’s play now, but the plan with Layla as bait slipped my attention. Now all I need are seconds to figure out his way of thinking. By opening the job, he turned it into a race. The first one to find and kill Layla wins the money... and anyone can try.
“How much?” I ask while Dimitri refills the glass for Spades.
“Way too much to hope that the professionals will forfeit this time. Not to mention amateurs. Search parties are probably out as we speak.”
The difference between a professional and an amateur isn’t all that significant. Professionals are those who make a living out of contracted killings. They work for no one but themselves, with no boss to answer to. People like Cai or Jackson who deal with the dirty work daily but report to a boss are amateurs. The way some of those so-called amateurs handle a gun would make a professional blush.
“How much?” I urge, staring Julij down.
“Three million.”
Spades chokes on the whiskey, coughing like an asthmatic. He raises his hands, gasping for air as his forehead and cheeks turn purple. “Three million dollars?” he pants between ragged breaths, calming down slowly. “Two years ago, Andreas got one and a half for taking out the boss from Florida. You’d think Layla’s the president’s daughter.”
Anatolij rises from his seat, making his way toward a window, each step calculated. An aura of crushing power walks with him. He stops a foot from the glass, staring out to the back garden, hands behind his back. “We seem to be overlooking one issue. We have an open hit and a deceased principal. That means someone must hold the money to pay the winner. Any ideas?”
“You mean a promoter. We call them promoters,” Julij clips, clearly unhappy with his uncle. “And no, I’ve no idea who could be stupid enough to agree to oversee this farce.”
“Think, Dante,” Spades elbows my ribs. “If we find the promoter, we can close the job.”
“Killing him won’t retract the job,” Anatolij interjects, turning back to face us. “The information is out there. You do not know how many people have been alerted or will be alerted in the coming days. You must force the promoter to close the hit and inform the takers using the same channels.”
“I won’t chase the promoter and risk anyone finding Layla in the meantime. She takes priority. Once she’s back home, I can start looking for the promoter.”
I pull out my phone to call Jackson. Apart from his job as my main fighter, he’s also the head of theLost and Founddepartment in my entourage. If I require any kind of information, he’s my guy. His friends can access an online database with a few keystrokes. Jackson himself isn’t a lousy hacker, but I need everyone he can get on the task right now.
I want... fuck, Ineedher back this very second.
“What’s up?” he asks, answering on the third tone.
“Find her.”
A short pause is his first response, but I doubt he needs an explanation as to who I want him to find. “Why?”
I almost smile at the hesitant note in his voice. He sounds like he dares me to make one false move; say one word wrong that’d warrant him going ballistic on my ass. Despite Layla’s betrayal, my people remained in awe of her. She clawed her way deep under their skin, not just mine. I guess they all knew it was a matter of time before I’d start looking for her. Deep down, I knew it too, but I was too stubborn, riled-up, and hurt to admit it. There’s no way in heaven I could let her go. Since the day she stepped into Delta wearing a red dress and a sassy attitude, my whole world revolves around her. Knowing people are out there searching for her, eager to claim three million dollars, flips my stomach. I spent thirteen days in a web of self-woven lies, but in the end, I’m powerless in the face of my feelings.
“Because it’s about time I stop lying to myself.”
“Took you long enough.” Jackson chuckles. “I’ll get on it straight away.”
“Get everyone on it, Jackson. Right now.” I ball my fists, adamant to say what has to be said without losing my fucking shit again. “There’s a bounty on her head. Three million dollars, open hit.” My voice remains stable even though inside, I’m screaming and sending one bullet after another into the New York sky.
“Shit,” he whispers as furious tapping on a keyboard starts in the background. “Who ordered it? Andwhy?”
“Frank. I’ll explain when we’re in Chicago. Get to work.”
“On it. We’ll find her first, Boss.”
He cuts the call, and I turn to look at Spades, lighting another cigarette. “I want to know who the promoter is. Make it happen. Call the V brothers and all our other business partners while you’re at it. No one is to eventhinkabout taking the hit, or I’ll cut them off and kill everyone they’re related to.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
