King of Envy: Chapter 21

I have a proposition for you.

Roman’s words hung in the air. He lounged behind the desk, seemingly uncaring, but the sharpness of his stare suggested my answer meant a hell of a lot more to him than he let on.

“I want to take down the Brotherhood,” he said. “And I want your help to do it.”

I raised my gun again.

“I know, I know. You might be thinking, why would you want to help me?” If Roman was fazed about staring down the barrel of a Glock, he didn’t show it. “I was the one who set fire to the Vault. I almost killed you. So I can see why you’d be a little⁠—”

A gunshot exploded.

The bullet streaked past him and embedded itself in my wall. A warning—one so close his hair ruffled just the tiniest bit from the speed and proximity of the call.

Roman paused. “Upset about that,” he finished coolly. “It wasn’t personal. I owed the Brotherhood a debt, and I paid it. If I hadn’t, we both know what would’ve happened to me.”

My mouth thinned. Unfortunately, I did know firsthand what it meant to owe the Brothers. That didn’t change the fact that the bastard tried to kill me using my biggest weakness.

White-hot fire bubbled in my veins. I wanted to toss the gun aside, take out my favorite knife, and paint the walls with his blood.

My baser instincts demanded I give in to them, but in the end, rationality prevailed.

Roman lived—for now.

“On that note, I’ll cut straight to the chase. The longer I’m here, the more likely it is they’ll find out I’ve initiated contact with you.” He flicked his eyes around the office like the Brothers themselves were hiding in the shadows. “The Brotherhood wants you dead. Badly.”

No shit. Tell me something I didn’t know.

My silence communicated my unimpressed displeasure.

“It’s not for the reasons you might think. The organization is at war.” Roman offered another mirthless smile at my twitch of surprise. “Gallo died last year. His protégé Shepherd took over, but a faction of the Brothers strongly opposed his leadership. It split the group in half, and now they’re battling for control. Instead of carrying out hits on each other—which would obviously be detrimental to the overall health and longevity of the Brotherhood—they’ve determined a prize for winner takes all.” Roman inclined his head. “You.”

The revelation sank into my skin like razor blades.

He didn’t elaborate, but I could fill in the rest of the blanks myself.

I’d been the biggest thorn in the Brotherhood’s side for years. I was the one that got away—a living and breathing reminder of their failure.

They were one of the world’s most elite groups of assassins and contract killers, and I was the only person in their hundred-year history to face them head-on and win.

Killing me would restore their honor. Most importantly, the side that succeeded would’ve demonstrated the qualities they valued most: Strength. Skill. Power.

“I stayed with Shepherd. The devil you know and all that. He tasked me with killing you and making it look like an accident. I may have purposely slacked on the job, but it was convincing enough that they didn’t suspect a double-cross.”

“Why?”

The smart move would’ve been to take me out and earn himself a spot in Shepherd’s good graces. Then again, with the Brotherhood at war, those good graces didn’t mean shit if the other faction won.

This was all assuming Roman was telling the truth. I had no way of verifying in the moment, so I had to operate like he was until I checked out his story. Thoroughly.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” He shrugged. “I don’t pledge allegiance to either faction anymore. I want out from under both of them. But I can’t take them on my own, which is why I need your help.”

I waited.

“I provide the intel and inside knowledge. You provide the money and resources,” he elaborated. “I would’ve waited for you to find me first, but circumstances have changed, and your men were taking too damn long. So I left a little clue at the garage to speed them along.”

Roman glanced around my office again. He was either an Oscar-winning actor, or he was genuinely jumpy about the Brothers finding him here. “I haven’t fully earned back the Brothers’ trust after a previous indiscretion. They’re keeping close tabs on me, and I couldn’t risk making direct contact until they were…distracted.”

“Seems like they have reason not to trust you.” It was a bright red flag. First rule of survival: don’t trust a double-crosser. If they could betray their previous allegiances, they could betray you. But if the Brothers were privy to his general whereabouts… “Who’s the ‘they’ from your note?”

Find me before they do.

Roman’s face shuttered. “Someone I crossed paths with while I was hiding from the Brotherhood.”

A world of secrets hid behind those words.

I’d bet my entire company that his “previous indiscretion” was the leaked Sunfolk contract and that was the reason he’d been hiding from the Brothers. What drew him back out, and who had he crossed paths with? Who had the power to unsettle an experienced killer?

All intriguing questions, but not ones I had time to delve into right now. Until I verified what he’d already told me, I would keep things simple.

“If you take out the leaders of both factions,” I said, “you become the new de facto leader of the Brotherhood. Convenient.”

Roman said he wanted out from under both of them; he hadn’t said he wanted out, period.

The organization followed old world pack rules. The strongest rose to the top. The members wouldn’t follow anyone else.

If Roman killed Shepherd and the leader of the other faction, he would be the strongest, and leadership would pass to him unless someone challenged him.

“Smart. I was right to come to you.” A genuine smile touched his mouth. “Yes, I have deeply selfish reasons for why I want the leadership role, but it’ll be beneficial for you too. Once I take over, the animosity between you and the Brotherhood will be wiped. Forever. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

“Of course not. But my word is better than nothing.” Roman nodded at my gun. “Your truce held as long as the Brotherhood feared you. Unfortunately, that same fear has turned you into their biggest target. The only reason they haven’t made another move on you yet is because of certain…developments in the war. Distractions. Once they sort those out, they’ll be after you again.”

“What developments?”

He let out a soft laugh. “Nice try. I’ve already told you enough. If you want more, you’ll have to give something in return.” Roman studied me. “Your old sources on the Brotherhood have dried up. They’re dead or retired. I’m your only active link to the organization, and I’m the only one who can tell you when they plan to strike again. Shepherd’s faction, anyway, but I’m sure I can infiltrate the other side as well.”

He was careful not to name the other faction. More information he was holding over my head, or a sign of his bullshit?

I quietly dissected my options.

If Roman was lying, and I agreed to help him, he could lead me straight into a trap. However, he’d successfully broken into my house. If he was in league with the Brothers, they would’ve attacked by now. It wouldn’t make sense for them to draw things out—unless, of course, they wanted to make a show of it. Humiliate me first by proving how gullible I was to believe Roman’s lies, then torture me. It was unlikely, but it was possible.

If Roman was telling the truth, this was my best shot at survival. I’d played defense since I found out the Brotherhood was involved in the fire because I had no choice; I was operating in the dark. With Roman’s intel, I could finally go on the offense.

As for the consequences of Roman taking over the organization…that was a problem for another day.

“So?” His eyes pierced mine. “Do we have a deal?”

My old sources may have dried up, but the Brotherhood’s civil war was verifiable if I knew where to look—which I did.

I’d have to triple-check every word that came out of Roman’s mouth. Until then…

I pulled the trigger.

He didn’t get a chance to run. His body jerked from the force of the bullet, and he released a sharp hiss when it tore through his shoulder. Blood bloomed on the front of his shirt and dripped onto the leather armrest.

Goddammit. That was my favorite chair.

Roman glared at me, his face white with pain. But he didn’t scream. He got bonus points for that.

“I could’ve aimed for your heart,” I said. “I’ll be in touch regarding your proposition. Now get the fuck out of my house before I change my mind.”