Page 22 of Power of Shadow

“You’ve got no idea,” Theo whispers, gazing at me with satisfaction.

“You have two hours to pack your stuff and leave. The clock’s ticking. Whatever you don’t get to take is your loss. Tick tock, tick tock…”

Mia’s the first to head for the stairs. Passing Eli, she smiles provocatively. He let her take a few steps away, rub his hands and shouts, “Mia, baby doll, I’ll help you!” And with that, he runs after her upstairs.

“You psycho whore!”

He laughs in response to my words.

“Oh my God. Mia!” George’s wife follows them.

Last of all, George gets up from the couch. “It didn’t have to end this way. We could’ve worked it out.”

“Of course, it didn’t have to be this way. Now fuck off and get your things out of my apartment before none of you get out of here alive.”

The deadly look I give him shuts him up. He finally leaves the living room, and I sigh with satisfaction.

When I sit down on the couch, Theo’s still sprawled out, relaxed.

Reaching for the documents, I hand them to him. “Here.”

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What’s this?”

Pushing the papers closer to him, I say, “It’s the purchase agreement for your new penthouse. It’s for you.”

“But I have an apartment. I need nothing fancier.”

“There may come a day when you finally decide you deserve something better than that matchbox-sized apartment. Or maybe not. I don’t care. This place is yours. Do with it what you wish.”

“Ryker…” Theo looks like he’s at a loss for words. “This… now you’re giving gifts worth millions?”

It’s worth it just to see his expression. It conveys surprise, disbelief, and something I can’t quite put my finger on. “Shut up. You’re my brother. If I want to give you a billion-dollar gift, that’s my call. Enjoy!”

I pat him on the shoulder. Most gestures make him uncomfortable, and there’re only a few he tolerates, like this one.

Putting my hands in my pants pockets, I head for the exit.

Its own rules run my world. It’s ruthless, dripping with blood and money, overflowing with power.

Many of the rules are really simple. The law of the jungle is the supreme law. Every day is a brutal fighting ground where the stronger or more powerful wins. A hierarchy exists, but a lonely and ruthless individual like me often disrupts it.

Another rule is that if you borrow something, give it back. If you ask for a favor, you owe someone unless you pay with the dollar sign.

Owen and I meet in the evening at his club. He’s one of us. A member of the Pact, though this is his private territory.

We never get in each other’s way, but we’re not particularly friends either. Owen is a collector. He collects debts like stamps. This only makes him a very rich man.

There’s nothing special about him on the street. He looks like one of those assholes who spend their whole lives working behind a desk. Always dressed in a suit, with a briefcase, of average build. What does he have in that briefcase? Who knows? I would rather not know, and I don’t care.

“You owe me,” he says, handing over what I’m here for.

Today, he accepts my debt and hands me an envelope in return. Someday, he’ll demand payment. We both know that.

And that’s it. That’s what I’m talking about. A collector.

However, I need access to a place that is difficult to reach, and he can provide it for me. While it’s not a big problem to get someone to give me access to top secret files about my new target, I want to use sources other than those controlled by my father.

I quickly learned that the gray area he doesn’t control is my ally. Where he has no control, I do.