Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
IVY
It’s too quiet. Way too quiet for this time of the morning.
I snatch my laptop from the side of the bed, carrying it to the table and flipping the screen open to punch in my password.
Text after text floods the screen as I sip on my latte. The perfect morning is caffeine and cigarettes, but I’ll settle for caffeine and murder today.
No plays for you. Update me on the situation you’re in
“What!”
Hell no was he going to lay me off during a time I need it most. If anything, it could be the only way I can get time away from this damn house.
Not that I think Asher would make my case easy to plead, but it’d be worth a shot.
And anyway, I’ve already decided if he wanted to stick a spy on me while I was doing it, I’d accept Atlas.
I dig through my laptop bag for my phone and hit his number when I find it.
He should probably ditch this number soon, since he’s had it for almost five years.
Too bad he’s pissed me off, now I’m not going to remind him that he’s about three years outside of what we were told was the safe zone to keep a number.
It clicks over and I waste zero seconds.
“I need the distraction now more than ever!” Ew, that sounded too whinny. Deep breaths. “Let me try that again.”
My heart slows, muscles releasing. “Please explain why I can’t be of use.”
Three years. I put up with Parker for three years until Emeric finally gave me the killshot order. For whatever reason, Emeric wanted to be thorough. No point tearing the weed if you don’t get it out from the root, so I waited.
And waited.
I’m not waiting anymore for anything else.
“You will not partake in two jobs at the same time.” Emeric’s deep voice scrapes closer to the receiver. “You are simply bored and want a plaything.”
Silence weighs between us.
Something shuffles in the background before he finally sighs. “May I ask what’s wrong with your current one? You break it already?”
“I’m doing my best to not be offended by what you just said, but since we’re on this subject, how the fuck did this happen?”
Nothing. Zero words are spoken.
My eyes narrow. “Do you know?”
“Ivanya, that conversation is for Nonna. However, I would like to discuss said toy.”
Yeah, I bet he does. Only he’s not doing a hell of a lot of discussing, since I can hear the faint sound of Gulls squawking in his background.
“In what context?” I push my latte away, leaning back in my chair.
“In the context of I can’t find out a single thing about him online that you can’t already read about on TMZ.”
Valid, since I know this for a fact.
His voice deepens. “Which means he’s hiding bigger secrets.”
My brow arches. “Bigger than what Punk could dig up?”
Silence again. His silence is bugging me. Not that he’s a man of a lot of words, because he’s not.
Unless…
Of course. He’s careful with everything he doesn’t understand, and right now, he doesn’t understand Asher, so he’s being extra paranoid.
More than usual, and that’s saying a lot since the man has literally never shared where he lives.
He could be in Asgard for all we know. It’s never brought up because one, the people who could are afraid to, and two, his trips to see us weren’t exactly frequent.
“Yes,” he mutters, and is that annoyance in his tone? I’d find it funny if I wasn’t still pissed.
“Well, I don’t think he does. He’s nothing but another example of what money can buy if you have enough of it. A whole life.”
Emeric makes a low sound, halfway between skepticism and agreement. “Tell me about him.”
This conversation is not going how I wanted it to.
“Not sure what else you’d want to know. Spoiled rich boy. His grandfather is Wickham Jameson, you know, the asshole who is always working in and out of shady hotel deals and basically owns every prime real estate in the Northeast.”
I blink when my eyes sting. “You know, I would much rather you be the scary monster everyone claims you to be, instead of the man I know you are deep down. It would make being annoyed at you harder.”
“I’m still that monster, Ivanya. It is only you who doesn’t see it.”
He leans forward, the leather of his chair rustling. “When I told you the boy was making you weak, I didn’t think he’d come back from the dead. We need to find out as much as we can. So in the meantime, no Plays. Can you access your back up drives without him knowing?”
I snicker. “Pretty sure I can access his brother without him knowing.”
Silence.
Rolling my eyes, I tap the screen of my laptop before dragging the mouse to my system drive. I open powershell and type in the code as files flood my screen.
“I have to admit…” Emeric says, voice closer to the receiver again. “You do look awfully pretty in white.”
I’m wearing a loose button-up, open to my bellybutton and lounge shorts. Hardly impressive.
I glare at the screen. “I’m in pajamas.”
“I see that.”
Years with Emeric, and I still can’t get used to his casual banter. It’s partially why I’ve always struggled to see him as the monster he is. Apparently, he never shared that same bond with the other family members.
“Tap on the one captioned A.D. Parker.”
I straighten, looking right through the webcam. “Why.”
“When did you start answering back?” He drawls, lazy and unimpressed.
My eyes narrow. “Are you drinking? You know how Nonna said you weren’t supposed to—”
“No, Ivanya, I’m not drinking.” The sudden flip in his tone sits me up straighter. “Tap on the name or I’ll do it for you.”
I sigh, dragging the mouse to the folder. A file loads onto the usual format when they assign a job. Name, age, address, blood type, all the boring things that make a human a person.
“What am I looking for?” I scroll down the page, past the details about his life, because I already know everything there is to know about the monster that stole mine.
“The reason you’re not getting any more jobs.”
The line goes dead.
I lower my hand and stare at my phone like it’s his face.
“Fuck you,” I mouth, flipping it off and slamming my laptop closed.
Parker was my main target, sure, but Emeric knows I rely on what I do to get me through. Almost the same way some do therapy. Did I want out? Yes. But I’m not stupid. There’s a system one needs to go through to get out of a life like this and it’s not done by depravation.
Not that I get off on killing people. To get our attention to begin with requires a certain skillset.
Writing someone into a script and having us actually accept it are two very different things.
We’re not the agency that most people think of when they want to get a job done.
We’re silent, discreet, but also… selective.
Our system works because we don’t have a high take-out list like others, such as Copper Ville, who kill just to kill and don’t care how.
This is why they’ve also been on the radar of every task force worldwide.
In short, if you know who we are, then you’re walking in the right circles, because no one, literally no one, knows who we are unless we want them to. It helps with our one-hundred-percent success rate.
Until Asher.
I dump my coffee down the drain and decide to make it my mission to find the hottest outfit I can in my new ridiculous closet.
“You know who I am.” I flick past a dress, then another with a sharper swipe. “Yet here you are. Again. Standing close enough that I can count your pulse rate and reach you to stop it.”
Atlas props himself against the bedside table, one ankle over the other. “I have a proposition for you if you choose to accept.”
I pause on a black gown that dips low between the breasts. I hold it up by the straps, then flip it to check the back.
All skin.
Never mind.
I hook the hanger with a finger and carry it toward the bed. “What makes you think I’d negotiate with you?”
He rolls one shoulder. “Because I think you want to piss my brother off more than I want to.”
I turn with the dress still in my hands, letting him see my smile. “Some sort of buried family drama I don’t know about?” I lay the it flat on the comforter.
His left eye twitches. “You have no idea.”
“I wouldn’t usually be interested in getting between all that, but apparently I have free time now...” I ponder, lowering to the bed. “So continue.”
He takes his time studying my face. If he’s trying to figure me out, he’s shit out luck. There was only one man alive that could do that and I tried to kill him.
“Nothing serious.” He shrugs. “Just pure, undiluted drama for my dear twin.”
“Why?” I ask, because alas has always been better at answering my questions.
He chuckles under his breath, scratching his jaw. “Look, don’t get me wrong, you’re gorgeous. Probably high up there as one of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“Aw,” I say, clutching my chest in mock appreciation. Being on Atlas’ anything isn’t exactly a flex.
“—But I do have a thing for red flags.”
That earns him a chuckle.
“And…” My focus slips to the window behind him. “Continue your case.”
He clears his throat. “Ah, yeah. Alright. Here’s the deal. I have a specific job to do, and if I don’t do it, it’s not in Asher’s best interest. Yet his interest is my job. Does that make sense?”
“No.” I lean back on my palms. “But not much does lately. Let me ask you something. Do you consider yourself reckless?”
With zero hesitation, he crosses his arms. “You already know my answer.”
I keep my eyes on him. “So in your free time, you fuck, party, and play?”
He nods once. “Absolutely.”
Pushing off the bed, I pause briefly beside him. “That’s why I could never play along with you.”
I don’t wait for his answer as I continue back to the closet, slipping out of my pyjamas and into a silk robe.
“You don’t have any boundaries. Where’s Asher?”
He glances between the clothes and my face. “Busy.”
“Well let’s unbusy him.” I head for the hallway, stopping outside a set of doors directly beside my own. “What’s in there?”
Atlas skids in behind me. “Where are you going?”