I need to see Pugli pay for his crimes against Nico and so many others. I need to deliver him into Nico's hands so the man can finally know true freedom.
I have to make sure Brys returns to her life as CEO of Bennett Development with her Midtown condo, her curated life, and her beautiful heart.
Some man, someday, will recognize the priceless treasure that is Brys Bennett, and he will snap her up and make her his—and in so doing, become hers.
I cannot stand in the way of that. I will not.
So, I must stay alive and seek my moment. Make Pugli pay. Be the bait in the trap—Nicolae is far too canny a warrior to fallfor Pugli's obvious ambush. My only goal now is to make sure the trap is sprung—with Pugli the prey.
My survival is irrelevant.
I died once, but this time, it's going to be for real.
As long as my Arrows are free and Brys is safe, it will be worth it.
Stay alive, Brys. Don't do anything foolish.
Your life will be your own, soon.
I'll make sure of it.
14
PART OF A PATTERN
BRYS
"So…" my mind is racing and spinning as Nico weaves his improbable tale. "Let me see if I have this straight. You live and work in a nightclub. But not just any nightclub, a secret, exclusive nightclub in a hidden location somewhere in Las Vegas, and you can only get in via invitation from someone else who has been there. This nightclub has a secret underground MMA cage-fighting venue, three stories of bars and dance floors, a more secret and even more ultra-exclusive brothel where the hookers are contract employees who lease space from Jakob, who is your boss, whom you've never met, never spoken to, never even seen, but you're sure he exists despite having zero evidence. And also by the way, I’m not sure if his name is Jakob or Caleb or something else entirely." I frown, tapping my chin with a fingernail, thinking, trying to keep straight everything he's told me so far. "What else? Oh, right, we can’t forget your buddies, who are all super badass special forces dudes, except three brothers, two of whom worked for a super secret organized crime gang called The Syndicate, and the other for the CIA. You all had some sort of betrayal or super deadly enemy who wanted to kill you, and Jakob, via a woman named…shit, I forgot. Something with an I…"
"Inez. But her name is Sophia, now."
"Right, right, because half of you changed your name for some kind of ritualistic reason." I wave both hands to slow him down before he can plow onward with more insanity. “Just…just hold on. Let me put it all out there so I can try to process it. You all took a vow to never kill again, and you sealed that vow, despite your training to the contrary, with a fuckingbrandas if you werecattle, and then fuckingtattooedover it? But you still go on Tom Clancy rescue missions all over the globe, taking down cartel bosses, Syndicate assassins, doomsday militia preppers, Indian billionaires, petty drug dealers, a psychotic warlord cartel kingpin whacko who was also Inez's forced-arranged-marriage husband—and we certainly can’t forget everyone’s favorite supervillain, this Roberto Pugli fuck-face who seems to be invincible, invisible, and unkillable. And as you guys doall this, youalsohave time to find true love with equally fascinating and badass women? Do I have all that right?"
Nico scratches his jaw. “Hmmm. Yes. You have summed it all up rather succinctly.” He glances at me. "It does sound somewhat…unlikely, put as you have."
"Unlikely?" I stare at him. "If I weren't sitting in this seat with you, having experienced everything I've been through over the last…? God, is it even seventy-two hours? I don't know." I shake my head. "I would have you committed to a loony bin."
Nico chuckles. "I understand your skepticism. It is warranted and entirely valid."
"You killed those men back there," I point out.
He nods. "I did. For reasons which have never been entirely clear to me, I was exempted from the vow against taking lives. I think somehow The Boss…Jakob…knew we would need a…what is that phrase? A jack in the box?"
I snicker. "No, I think you mean an ace in the hole."
He nods. "Yes, indeed—that is what I mean. An ace in the hole. I have spent much of the past few weeks in Europe speaking other languages, so my mind is not yet fully readjusted to English."
"How many languages do you speak?"
He rolls a shoulder with suspicious casualness. "A dozen or so, depending on your definition of fluency."
"Good lord."
"So…not that I’m ungrateful for having met you, but…are the rest of your crew of killers-who-don't-kill going to join this little party?"
He eyes me. "That is uncertain."
I frown at him. "Can I ask why? Jakob, your boss, the man who saved all of you from your respective fucked-up pasts, gave you a place to live, a job, and a found family…he needs help. He's injured, possibly dying, and has been taken by the man you've all been alternately chasing and running from for weeks now, if not months—and in your case fuckingyears."
