Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 160192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Shoot.
She wanted to argue, but she knew she couldn’t. So she nodded.
He leaned in and kissed her lightly. “Good girl. Don’t worry. I’m going to bring our boy home.”
64
North woke up with a strong sense of danger.
He forced himself to stay relaxed while he took in his surroundings. This is why he hated sleeping with others.
Sleep was difficult for him. Relaxing, letting down his guard . . . nearly impossible.
So he usually only slept an hour or two at a time. And he was never fully rested.
Unless he slept with Angie and Jared.
That had truly shocked him. He’d been able to sleep with them without hurting them. Without thinking they were a threat.
And he’d actually slept.
But he wasn’t in a bed with them right now. His mind was muddled, meaning he’d likely been drugged. His arms were tied down and so were his feet.
It was hard to stay relaxed and pretend to sleep when he knew he was in a dangerous situation. However, this was what he was trained to do.
“I know you’re awake, N. I know all the tricks since I taught them to you.”
Fuck.
This was worse than he’d thought. He had hoped he’d been taken by someone attached to Richard Drews. Or even one of Jared’s enemies.
Instead, he’d been brought home.
He opened his eyes, staring around the unfamiliar room. Then he glanced over at the man who had found him in an orphanage, starving and miserable. Who had given him a place to live. Who had trained him into a silent assassin. Along with countless others.
Mr. Z was a slim-built man. Older. Although it was hard to figure out his age. He had a slight accent. But it was hard to pin down what it was. Definitely something Eastern European.
North hadn’t seen him in years. And he’d really hoped he wouldn’t ever see him again.
“I’m sorry we had to meet like this,” Mr. Z said.
“You betrayed us, North.”
He glanced over at the other man who had just spoken. His handler. V.
“You drugged me,” he said to V. “Why?”
“You’ve become defective, N,” Mr. Z said. “You haven’t been following orders. And it’s all right, we know why. It’s really our fault for not watching over you more closely. We left you to your own devices for too long.” He shot V a look.
The other man glanced away, clearly uncomfortable.
North took in a slow breath. What the fuck was going on? Why bring him here and tie him to a bed?
“This isn’t the first time this has happened,” Mr. Z said. “Where one of our operatives has developed feelings for a mark.”
“Who hired you to kill Jared?” North asked. “Why was I there in the first place? Was Jared always the target?”
“Do you think you get to ask questions?” V snarled. “You are supposed to do as you are told.”
Mr. Z waved his hand.
“Originally we thought you were going to have to take out Fergus Bartolli. He was disrupting too many businesses belonging to clients of mine. Once he was gone, we thought about removing you. But the truth is, we decided it was best to leave you. Sometimes we leave our people in place for years. You are one of the longest, but it suited us. Until you became compromised and wouldn’t do as you were meant to.”
“So who hired you this time?” He needed to know.
“No one,” Mr. Z said.
“No one?” North repeated. “I don’t understand.”
Don’t you?
God.
“It was a test,” V told him. “One you failed.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Z replied. “And now we have to decide what to do with you. Do we try to reprogram you or get rid of you?”
“I think reprogramming at this stage will be impossible,” V replied.
That bastard always was a pessimist. But his mind was still back on what Mr. Z had said.
“A test? Killing Jared was a test of my loyalty?” he asked.
Even he could hear his voice cracking, emotion slipping through.
Maybe he was now defective.
But he didn’t care. Except for the fact that he might not make it out of here alive.
For the first time in his life, he might actually care if he lived or died.
Simply because he wouldn’t see them again. He didn’t want to lose either of them.
“It was. And you failed,” V told him. “Defective. I can get rid of him for you, sir.”
Jeez, didn’t even have to think about that, did he?
What the fuck was he going to do, though? He didn’t want to die but that seemed to be where things were headed.
Think.
You know these men. You know how they think. What do they want?
Power.
Money.
“Ransom me,” he suddenly said.
“What?” Mr. Z asked.
“Ransom me back to Jared. Cut me free from the organization and ransom me. Get back the money you put into me. I’m an asset, right? Surely killing me isn’t the best return on your investment. So ransom me to Jared. Get some money back.”