Page 61 of Unexpected Complication

“Reaction?”

He leaned forward. “When word gets out we are now a team, the ripples of fear will be…delicious. The great, invisible assassin Anthony Malone within my inner circle?” His fingers bent and twisted. “We’ll be legends.”

“I’m already a fucking legend,” I growled. “I did it on my own. I don’t need you, Orson.” I stood, towering over him. “And I repeat. I don’t work for anyone.”

A glimmer of fear passed over his face, and he jumped to his feet. “I meant no disrespect.”

I shook my head. “Not interested.”

I turned to walk away. I hadn’t even taken three steps when he spoke again. “Name your price.”

I pivoted, my heart racing. I had him. “What?”

“I’ll give you six million.”

“And what exactly do you want for six million, Orson?”

“A few months of your time. I want your continued enforcement and your expertise. No one will cross me with you on duty.”

“Are you still being crossed?” I asked, already knowing things were still happening he couldn’t explain. “You don’t think taking out the mole was enough?”

He drifted his fingers across the keyboard in front of him absently. “I don’t know. Things are occurring. I can’t explain them, Rex can’t help, and I still don’t know how White got in. Getting rid of him was probably enough, but I want to make sure. I want to send a message.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t fuck with me.”

It took everything in me not to laugh. I was so going to fuck with him, and the asshole was going to pay me to do it.

I paused, exhaling heavily, pretending to reconsider his proposal. “Twenty million.”

His eyebrows rose. “That’s a lot of money for a few months.”

“Not compared to what you’d lose if things keep ‘occurring.’”

“What’s my guarantee you won’t take the money and disappear?”

“My fucking word,” I spat back. “I’ll take half now—consider it a signing bonus—and we’ll revisit in a few months. See where things are at.” I flashed him my darkest smile. “Not that I’ll sign a fucking thing.”

Inside, I was gloating.

Not that you’ll be around in a few months either, asshole.

“Ten.”

I shrugged and turned away again.

“Fine. Twenty. Ten now.”

“I only want half of the first installment wired to the account I gave you before. The other half to a new one.”

“Give me your details, and I’ll make sure it’s done.”

I smirked. “The new one requires my password.”

“You’re trying my patience, Malone.”

“I don’t take orders from anyone. We need to be clear on that. I’ll work with you—not for you.”