Ghost materialized out of the dark and pointed to the stairwell. We went up fifteen flights, but before we could get to the top floor, Ghost pulled me out of the stairs and into a hall.
I followed along silently, wondering, and rolled my eyes when he disappeared into a supply closet. Inside the dark closet, he was gone, but the vent opening in the ceiling was ajar.
“Fucking dramatic,” I uttered as I pulled myself into the hole. The space inside was limited, my shoulders touching each side. The air was stale and hot. After closing the vent behind me, Iarmy-crawled along the metal sheeting, gritting my teeth and trying not to make a sound.
I caught up to Ghost a short while later, the asshole looking like he hadn’t even broken a sweat. I scowled, and he put his finger to his lips, which made me scowl more.
Did he think I was stupid?
He gestured to a grate in the floor between us, and I squinted through the tiny slats to make out two bodyguards stationed outside a door. I knew it was Grimaldi’s place and also the reason Ghost decided not to use the rest of the stairs.
He gestured, and we continued until stopping at another grate that looked into a home office. I pointed to it, and Ghost nodded. In seconds, he was dropping silently into the empty room. After a quick thumbs-up, I kept going until the sound of obnoxious snoring blasted through the next grate.
I couldn’t see anything below. The room was pitch black, but the snoring was a pretty obvious giveaway. Pulling it open, I gazed down, not making out much more than a few shapes of furniture. After another moment of listening for any movement, I grew impatient and dropped into the room.
The carpet muffled the sound I made, and I stayed crouched low for a minute before standing. My eyes adjusted quickly, and I noted his closed bedroom door and the drawn curtains over a large set of windows that probably offered a view of the lake.
Creeping over to the side of the bed, I stared down at a sleeping Grimaldi, smirking to myself at what a pompous ass he was. I was tempted to just grab my gun and put a bullet in his skull, let the hit on Hazard die with the man who ordered it.
I didn’t just want Grimaldi dead, though. I wanted information.
Keeping my movements slow and controlled, I reached behind to draw my gun and screw a silencer on the end.
A thunderous snore erupted out of him, and I used the opportunity to flip off the safety and jam the cold butt of the gun right against his temple.
His eyes flew open immediately, and his arm dove beneath the pillow, likely for a weapon.
“Your brains will be all over this pillow before your finger even touches the trigger.” I informed him.
He froze, eyes rolling toward me. Then they widened until he looked like an owl in a cartoon.
“That’s the difference between me and you. You send men when you have a problem, but me? I deal with it myself.”
His body tensed at the insult, and I jammed the gun harder into his bone, reminding him exactly who was in charge.
“How’d you get in here?” he rasped.
“You should really hire better security,” I said.
“If I scream, you’ll be dead in seconds.”
“Maybe,” I allowed. “But not before this gun rearranges your face.”
“What do you want?” he asked.
“An apology for starters.”
He scoffed. “For fucking what?”
“For trying to hire me to do clean-up on a job your men botched.”
His eyes went round again, nostrils flaring.
I shook my head, telling him to save his outrage. “You really should surround yourself with more capable men.”
“That’s why I hired you.”
“Don’t try and compliment me now,” I said, hard. “And you didn’t hire me. I said no.”
