Iris. (Den of Mercenaries Book 7)

by London Miller

And the only thing that seemed to play on repeat over and over again was his name.

  It was Red who broke the silence. “How long had you been following me once I arrived in New York?”

  The Kingmaker didn’t freeze, nor did he even bother to look guilty. He merely turned in Red’s direction and stared, as if he knew this moment would come. As if he knew exactly what the man was asking. “I wasn’t,” he said, shocking the shit out of Synek. “I came upon you by chance.”

  “How the fuck—”

  “But once I found you,” the Kingmaker continued, and it was then that Synek saw the man wasn’t calm at all. He was pissed. “It took no time at all in finding out who you were. Then it was only a matter of formulating a plan.”

  “You’re a sick motherfucker, you get that?” Red asked, the chair he’d been sitting in clattering to the floor as he lurched to his feet.

  “Have you forgotten so quickly how many lives you’ve ruined? How many brothers, sons, wives, and girlfriends have you taken from someone? I despise hypocrisy.”

  “Yet you’re expecting loyalty when you don’t even know the meaning of the word,” Celt added, his expression fierce. “You had him tortured. I was fucking beaten within an inch of my life every night. What’s your excuse for that?”

  “I wanted soldiers,” the Kingmaker said simply. As if that answer meant anything at all now.

  “Give me one reason I shouldn’t end you right now,” Red said, but he didn’t whip out his gun before the Kingmaker could react.

  He did it slowly. Deliberately. Making it clear that he wasn’t afraid of him or the Wild Bunch.

  And to Synek’s surprise, the four Romanians didn’t move.

  Winter’s doing, he imagined.

  The Kingmaker, however, didn’t falter or lose his confidence. “Good help is so very hard to find.”

  “Your brother isn’t here to save you this time,” Synek said, retrieving his own weapon, staring down the length of his gun until he reached the man’s face and the impassive expression there.

  “You’ve clearly underestimated who I am if you thought for a second that I needed Nix here to deal with the lot of you.”

  “From where I’m standing, it looks the other way around, mate.”

  There was no scenario in which the Kingmaker would leave this room alive. Not after what he had done—not after the truth of what he had done to get them into this room had come out. Even if Synek lowered his weapon and walked away, Red wouldn’t let him leave.

  And the only reason he hadn’t pulled the trigger yet was because Fang had his gun pointed at the man’s head, and neither Fang, nor any of his brothers, would miss at point blank range.

  “Is that so?” the Kingmaker asked with an arch of his brow, a smile forming. “Tell me ... who do you think polices you?”

  The attention was on them now, and even though he had a gun pointed at him, the Kingmaker eased to his feet. Synek considered it a moment before he holstered his weapon.

  It wasn’t as if the Kingmaker carried his own weapon on him. He could tell from the lines in the man’s suit. Besides, if there was a need, he was more than capable of snapping the man’s neck.

  “Every person in the world has a price they’re willing to pay to get the thing they want most. Have you so quickly forgotten that this, in and of itself, is what I excel at? Your personal relationships notwithstanding, I didn’t need friends. I didn’t pay a king’s fortune for men to have thoughts and feelings. I only needed your skills and nothing more, so I owe you nothing.”

  “Not according to the contract,” Winter said, her voice soft, and unlike everyone else in the room, hers held a tremor. She was nervous. “Z stipulated that should you ever warrant exposure that puts the Den in jeopardy, the mercenaries are free to sever their ties with you.”

  That was the thing about mercenaries.

  They were mistrusting by nature.

  Which was why they more often than not worked alone. It gave them a chance to get the hell out of dodge if anything went wrong.

  It was something Synek hadn’t thought about in years since he’d signed the thing. Or maybe, he never had.

  Not once had he ever thought the Kingmaker would get exposed, that his name would be out on public news rather than whispered about in secret.

  “There’s nothing saving you now,” Synek said, wrapping his finger around the trigger.

  The change that came over him was gradual. He hadn’t been fazed by the gun in his face, or even that the infamous name attributed to him was out there now and known to the world.

  That, in a matter of minutes, Belladonna had managed to make the man whose privacy he revered above all else the number one talked about thing in the country.

  He was exposed.

  To everyone.

  “Winter,” the Kingmaker said, and if his expression changed for anyone, it changed for her. He looked betrayed. “Finish telling him about the clause, if you would.”

  Synek tensed as he turned to look at her. She was half-hidden behind Tăcut, his body a shield for hers, and even as she tried to move around him, he stopped her with a look, but she appeared grateful all the same that everyone had stopped before she spoke.

  “Even if the contract is broken,” she said, her voice soft and unbearably sad, “no harm can come to the Kingmaker by anyone under his command. Should it, he’s installed a contingency plan.”

  It was Red who scoffed, Fang forgotten for the time being. “You could send an army, but that still won’t save you from taking a bullet to the head.”

  “And what of the life of your wife and children, Niklaus Volkov?” the Kingmaker asked, looking in his direction. “Would you provide them a life without a father simply because you didn’t know how to walk away? Without a mother? I’m sorry, did you think it would end with you?” he asked with a shake of his head when Red shifted on his feet. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  Very carefully, he undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing a scar on his chest. “After the first attempt on my life, I had a pacemaker installed, and should it, for any reason, report that my heartbeat has stopped by any hand that is not my fucking own, two-point-seven million dollars will be transferred from my account into a man’s trust whose name you do not know and whose identity you will never be able to find. If a single one of you raises a hand against me, you all die. And your wives. And your children. And whoever the fuck else I believe you’re close to.”

  His gaze turned to Synek, narrowed dangerously. “There is a reason they call me the Kingmaker, so make no mistake, the only person you need fear is me.”

  “Right.”

  Synek didn’t put his gun away because he needed to, or even because he doubted, though he didn’t, the truth of the man’s words. He put it away because it didn’t matter.

  Not anymore.

  Not when his name was out in the world and questions would be asked.

  The contract was void by his own doing.

  Celt was the first one to speak. “Better watch yourself out there, Uilleam. The snakes are very well hidden.”

  The game … the Den … it was over.

  This time, when Synek turned for the door, it was for the very last time.

  Chapter 23

  Nix

  For once in his life, Kit Runehart was the calmest he had ever been.

  He had always prided himself on keeping a level head, of being aware of anything and everything happening around him. He was a master of secrets and had been for years—ever since he had stepped into the role of assassin with the Lotus Society.

  Even before that job had come along, Kit had needed to learn very quickly the secrets of others if he wanted to avoid the tyrant whose roof he had lived under.

  Except when it came to his wife and brother, he often reacted without thinking. Shoot first. Question later.

  That was his first mistake.

  His second was underestimating the woman his brother had fallen in love wi
th.

  In the beginning, he hadn’t wanted to learn Karina’s secrets. Not because he wasn’t curious about her, but because he knew some were his brother’s secrets as well, and he didn’t want to know more about the ones his brother kept.

  Sure, he was more than willing to aid in finding her once it became clear that she was the one targeting Uilleam and provide assistance where needed, but now, after learning of yet another of his brother’s betrayal, he was ready to leave them both behind.

  If they wanted to spend their lives destroying each other, he wouldn’t stand in their way.

  He had far more to consider now than he ever had before.

  Before now, he had already considered taking Luna away for a much-needed vacation after the past few years in their lives, but now that she was carrying his baby, he wasn’t willing to risk her.

  She was too willing to run into the face of danger for them, his Luna. Her loyalty came without question, even as frustrating as that could be at times. And he knew, without question, that she loved Uilleam, sometimes more than he did.

  She loved him despite himself, and it was for that reason that Kit could no longer stand idly by and let her continue to risk herself in his name.

  They could no longer save his brother from his decisions. Uilleam would have to save himself.

  But before he walked away from it all, Kit wanted answers. Answers that Uilleam, despite his best efforts, wouldn’t be able to answer. That was the problem when hearing a story from the outside looking in; only his perception of events was clear.

  If he wanted the truth—or Karina’s truth, as it were—he would have to get it from the source.

  Months of training and years of practice made it easy for Kit to slip into the glass and steel building, his movements seamless and not noteworthy. To the few who walked the lobby, he might as well have been any other rich businessman in the state of New York.

  No one looked at him twice.

  “The elevators,” Kit said quietly, just loud enough to be picked up over the comm in his ear. Winter was on the other end, feeding him navigation.

  He hadn’t explained the extent of what he was planning to do here today, but she could probably guess, and he also knew that some answers he sought would be just as important to her as they were to him. For that reason alone, he suspected, she was aiding him.

  He rode the elevator up seven floors before stepping off again, switching to the next one, and then rode it down twelve floors onto the secret level that many didn’t know about. This lift had specifically converted to take him down to the private floors not listed on the blueprints to the building.

  There were very few things Kit couldn’t find when properly motivated, and Belladonna was one of them.

  Removing his gloves as the elevator stopped once more and the doors eased open, Kit took a step forward, not surprised in the slightest to find the men waiting for him on the other side, their guns trained on him.

  Wisely, they stood immobile, neither willing to make the first move.

  Belladonna had taught them well.

  “Take me to her,” he said, not having to give a name. They all knew who he had come to see.

  Neither moved, at least until one’s head tilted ever so slightly, telling him the man was listening to someone he couldn’t hear. After a moment, the guard nodded once and straightened, gesturing for Kit to follow.

  He might not have known her during the days in which his brother had fallen in love with her, but it was nearly impossible for him to picture a girl who had been as innocent as Uilleam had proclaimed her to be.

  Not only had she posed as a journalist, but she had managed to keep up the lie for more than a year. That took a level of commitment not many could sustain.

  He couldn’t help but wonder now whether he would have noticed her deception from the beginning.

  To his surprise, as Kit was led into an office of grays and white marble, the only guards Belladonna had with her were the two currently walking on either side of him.

  “Quite foolish to have so little security,” Kit remarked as he stepped farther into the room, his gaze assessing and evaluating until they landed on her.

  “If you were here to kill me,” Belladonna said with a ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t have seen you coming.”

  Dark hair fell over her shoulders as she reclined, watching him from the moment he crossed the floor until he sat in the chair opposite her desk.

  “That’s true.”

  And it was.

  They both knew what he was capable of.

  “So sure that I don’t intend to harm you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  “I doubt Luna would forgive you if you murdered me.”

  Perhaps. Perhaps not. “Her capacity for forgiveness is unparalleled.”

  But for now, it wasn’t a question he needed an answer to.

  “I imagine your brother doesn’t know you’re here,” she said with a tilt of her head, glancing down at the page number of the book she’d been reading before he came in.

  The Art of War.

  How appropriate.

  “What do I owe the pleasure of your company, Kit?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she regarded him.

  Her gaze shifted to the right, enough to send her security walking back out the door and closing it behind them. Kit removed the comm from his ear, switching it off before setting it on the desk for her to see.

  This meeting would go no further than this room.

  Had he not been studying her so closely, he might not have noticed the way her gaze flickered and the slight tightening of her shoulders. Belladonna—Karina—could pretend as much as she wanted, but he saw the truth she didn’t mean to show.

  Some part of her feared him and how this meeting would end, but she was too proud to put an end to it.

  Or perhaps she had a strategy?

  It was what his brother would do had he gone to see Uilleam instead of coming to see her.

  It was clear, after he’d taken the flight to Wales after Luna, that she wanted his attention.

  Now she had it.

  “How long have you known,” he asked, “that my mother was alive?”

  It was clear from the expression on her face that she wasn’t expecting this question, but even still, she answered. “Since the beginning. He told me what she had done to you—how she treated you, rather, but even with his loyalty to you, surely you couldn’t have truly thought he would be able to murder his own mother?”

  No, he hadn’t.

  While every man’s moral compass was different, Uilleam’s began and ended with those he considered family. If someone wasn’t family to him, he didn’t care very much about their life.

  For all Uilleam cared, the world was expendable.

  He had been as surprised as anyone when Uilleam had confessed what he had done, or rather, confessed to what he thought Kit wanted to hear.

  “I didn’t need for him to kill her.”

  “No, I’m sure you didn’t,” Belladonna said as she shook her head, now sitting up as straight as he, hands folded primly in her lap. “Of course, an assassin wouldn’t need anyone’s aid in taking a life, but that isn’t the point, is it? Despite the deplorable woman she is, Uilleam couldn’t bring himself to harm her. Force her into exile, however? He could manage that.”

  “I take it that was your doing.”

  Just as she had stopped him from taking Luna’s life so long ago. The thought was enough to bring a pang to his chest. No matter what she had done, without her, Kit wouldn’t have his wife or the wee baby growing inside her.

  For that reason alone, he would spare her life.

  “He provided the lie,” Kit said a moment later, still watching her. Studying her for the tells she probably didn’t realize she had.

  But he had learned long enough how to find one’s secrets and exploit them.

  “He gave you the answer you wanted,” Belladonna retorted, a new fire in her eyes. “Uilleam only h
ad you and your mother left after you murdered your father. Your sister walked away from the family long before she could ever see the mess the two of you made of it. Now imagine, just for a moment, that he had killed your mother, who would he have then? How many times have you abandoned him over the years? Threatened him. Betrayed him?”

  Curious. “I only did to him what he did to me.”

  “If ever there was a crime Uilleam committed against you, it was loving you too much.”

  “As I recall, he betrayed me first,” Kit responded, not because he actually believed that, but because he wanted to see what her reaction would be. He was finding that everything she was saying was in complete contradiction to what she had tried to make them all believe.

  This, he thought, was why she hadn’t wanted to see him.

  She had baited each and every one of the mercenaries deliberately, saving his mother for last … That wasn’t for Luna—she hadn’t even known who the woman was. Sending her there had been Belladonna’s attempt at sparking a reaction from Kit.

  Undoubtedly, she had known that he would follow Luna there, and already enraged, he would have murdered his mother where she stood.

  The thought had crossed his mind, and the mental image had been enough to put a smile on his face, but he’d understood then just as he understood now that she had wanted exactly that.

  “You left him when he needed you most,” Belladonna returned. “You were older, and he looked up to you. He even believed that once you finished with the Lotus Society, you would come back for him.”

  “And I did.”

  “But only after that bastard of a father nearly killed him.”

  “Curious, isn’t it?”

  She blinked, her gaze lifting to his. “I’m sorry?”

  “I didn’t understand your angle with the mercenaries at first. Anyone in your position would have had them all killed or, at the very least, hurt their family in some way. It’s not as if you didn’t have someone capable.”

  She had the Jackal—Sebastian—and others, he assumed.

  Men just as strong and capable as any Uilleam had.

  It would have been the most logical move. She could match wits with the Kingmaker, but she would need someone else to take on his mercenaries should there be a need.