Learning who snatched Ange, tracking down the people who slaughtered my best friend while trying to get to me and my family…
I became obsessed with my investigation.
All my fact-finding and data gathering efforts congealed into an intricate ledger of my father’s criminal world. The hard drive I mailed this morning after graduation isn’t just information.
It’s my life’s work.
My vengeance.
Forget my mind. That hard drive is the only real weapon I have, and Brody, the man currently banging around in the kitchen, can never, ever know about it. If he ever got his hands on that…
I shudder.
The bad news is the drive’s information is equally as dangerous in the Russians’ hands.
My survival and secret mission depend on escaping Brody as fast as I can. If I don’t, I’ll never achieve my goal.
Without that hard drive, I don’t have a prayer of avenging Angelica.
The glorious, all-consuming scent of bacon permeates my crowded thoughts.
My god, the killer cooks.
He seems perfectly at home while navigating around the kitchen, which unsettles me.
My dad always had a cook. In fact, the Gallagher estate in New York City has several cooks, all of them working together to feed any family members in residence or home from missions.
I’ve never seen an enforcer fry up bacon once in my life. Though I’ll never admit this to him, the smell intoxicates me. Whether he offers or not, I also refuse to eat anything he prepares. I refuse to insult Ange’s memory any more than I already have.
I doubt he even cares if I eat. The man capable of letting those guys at the gas station jump me probably doesn’t give a damn about my woefully empty stomach.
As he cracks eggs into a skillet, I try to ignore him. The delicious aroma of sizzling bacon that follows feels like the worst type of torture.
After a few more minutes, Brody plates the food and faces me. I glance away before he catches my stare. With my stomach empty and demanding food, I struggle to maintain my composure.
I’m not sure what time it is, but based on when the sun went down… I haven’t eaten in over twelve hours.
He walks my way, which layers my gut with dread. I remain calm until he steps right in front of me and lowers the plate down onto the coffee table across from my knees.
I make the mistake of glancing at the scrumptious meal before I tilt my head back to glare. “What’s this?”
“Dinner.” He drops a silver fork on the plate. “Humans need it to survive.”
He returns to the kitchen and grabs another plate.
Everything in me wants to say,No,thanks.But that’s too close to being polite.
Instead, I set my jaw. “I don’t want it.”
Brody glances up to meet my eyes. “Yes, you do.”
Oh, so he’s not offering. He’s demanding.
This is a power move.
Fine. He won’t win.
Even under the weighted intensity of his honey-eyed gaze, I don’t break. I can tell he won’t leave me alone until I end this stalemate.
