Landing had been the same, an ease I knew my father had granted us for his sick, twisted game. This was simply a game to him, a hurdle he thought we couldn’t jump, but little did he know we’d placed it perfectly. The weapons were switched out: a deadly insult to the Cartel and a humiliation to my father, who they wouldhopefullyshoot in the head at his insolence. If that didn’t work, we’d not only eliminate a group of bad guys, but kill my father while we were at it.
The general’s smirk said it all, painted in the bliss he got from torturing Thorne. That grin represented the reason we were here, and the reason I was sacrificing myself so that his stain would finally be lifted.
Adjusting the utility knife at my side, I signaled to Matt, his olive green irises meeting mine with the ire we both shared. We were starting, and once it began, there was nothing to stop us from moving forward. I had nothing to hold me back, and for the first time, that thrill alone was enough to act as their commander not only by name, but in action too.
“Matt and Liam, unload the cargo. Thorne, you stay next to me while we guard my father during the deal. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they responded in tandem, the words flowing from Thorne with an ease that had me questioning if I’d simply dreamed up the relationship we once had.
Unholstering my gun, I clicked off the safety, letting it rest in my hand. One of these bullets would kill my father, and one would kill me. That’s how this evening would go, and knowing it did little to ease the panic thrumming beneath my features. Would it be quick?
I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts, twisting to look at Thorne. A single look—one I hoped he could pick up on despite the pain I’d caused him. A glance I was betting on him to understand, one unspoken look that signaled the start of everything we were about to do.
His honeyed gaze met mine, and for the first time in days, he held it. There was a spark of question in his irises, as if he could somehow read my mind. At least that’s what I thought until his jaw feathered, and he pulled his attention away from me once more.
“Do you intend to fucking stare all day,Commander, or do your men plan to bring the weaponsinsidefor the deal?”
Around the corner, Liam gave a nod. Good. They’d transferred the weapons into the separate container we’d placed in the back. What would spark a bigger dispute than showing up empty-handed?
“Matt, all good?” I called out, double-checking this was secure before we moved inside to the drop.
“All good, Commander.” His voice was level, calm, providing me with a wave of reassurance I hadn’t realized I needed. “Ready whenever you are.”
“Ready,” I echoed, unsure I could say anything else from the nerves still riddling my system.
With Liam and Matt’s help, they headed into the building, Thorne at my side and my father following behind—the perfect bodies to take a hit instead of him.
Sealing the gap briefly, Thorne spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear him. “What the fuck do you have up your sleeve, Valens?”
“Afuckingbullet,” I muttered, unsure if he even heard my response. There wasn’t time for a rebuttal as I stepped forward, shoving the double doors open to unveil the scenery before us.
Clad in military uniforms similar to our tactical gear, they looked the picture of soldiers, but there was an air of disdain that suggested they were anything but. About ten men lined the perimeter, one singular man pacing in the room. His eyes met my father.
He was decently young. His olive-toned skin was nearly flawless, save for the scar that ran from his left temple, across his cheek, coming to a stop beside his nose. Catching the overhead light with a sheen, the gel maintaining his dark, curled locks became apparent. His facial hair was well-kept, trimmed like he’d visited a barber before our agreed drop date.
And somehow, it wasn’t any of those attributes that unsettled me. It was his near-yellow gaze that threatened to penetrate the minds of anyone he locked eyes with.
Who the fuck was this man?
“Ah, Andrew Valens. The man of the hour,” he chided, a deep laugh rolling from his chest. “You’re late.”
His vocal inflection contained a specific phonetic quality that I knew instantly. He was?—
A gun left a holster, and I didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. “He’s from fucking Serbia, Oren.” Thorne spat, almost as if he had a personal vendetta with the man standing before us. “What the fuck have you been planning, Andrew?”
“Planning? This has been running smoothly since before you were instated as commander. You’ve simply played your role well enough to avoid this direct interaction with the man responsible for your men’s deaths. Deaths that aided in the transaction of military-grade weapons. Howelsedo you think we pay for the equipment and my liquor cabinet?”
“You’ve been funding the fucking Serbian Cartel…” Thorne’s voice faded, horrified shock clinging to every syllable. “This whole fucking time you’ve been aiding?—”
“Quite the reunion, Thorne Graves.” The unnamed man smiled maliciously, his analytical glare sweeping over the man who still held my heart. “I still bask in the sound of your men’s screams as my right hand beheaded them. An unmatched symphony, truly.”
I curled my fingers, stopping myself from lashing out at the man responsible for so much of Thorne’s pain and suffering. This man washim—the man who’d killed his previous squad members with no remorse, and now worked for the Cartel. My jaw feathered as I jerked my gun toward Matt and Liam. “We’re not here to reflect on old shit. We’re here to make sure this deal runs smoothly and quickly.”
“Spoken like an obedient pup,” their leader stated, his growing grin igniting my wrath. “Seems your father raised you well, Oren Valens.”
My father chuckled, the coward still hiding behind us. “At least someone didn’t have to fuck it out of him. A couple of beatings solidified him,almost.”
I ignored the General’s growing laughter, a bond of mutual hatred forming for both of these men. I couldn’t let their banter deter us from what we’d practiced numerous times. It would all go according to plan, with no mistakes in sight.
