CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #2
“The person or people from Kratos, who believe my sister and her family have the cards, have been threatening them.” He swills amber liquid from a snifter—cognac maybe—and it lends both intensity and casualness to this exposition.
“There’s been a steady escalation to their threats.
They’ve made it increasingly difficult for their family to visit us or to go anywhere really.
A few years ago, they came after them here—the only breach of security we’ve had since I took over.
While the location of their residence has remained a secret, the harasser is aware they visit us. Rena’s identity is well known.”
“I’m sorry you’re all going through that.” I address the whole room and squeeze Cash’s hand because he never told me they were enduring this.
That’s also when I notice Jax’s rigid jaw. From what I’ve seen, his distress is usually in a blasé package. He must really be torn up about what’s happening with his sister.
“I think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel,” Axel says, and every word suggests that it’s a light I have the ability to shine for them.
No one else adds anything, but Maddox flicks his balisong around, filling the silence with snicks and clicks.
An encouraging grin blooms on his face that bleeds into Tessa’s.
And at the sight, Cash exhales. They’re freeing me from whatever this is.
Cash claimed he didn’t know the details.
Maybe Maddox and Tessa don’t either. It’s nice that they’re in my corner regardless.
“Okay,” I finally manage, feeling more relaxed.
“Zara uncovered a great deal about Kratos not long ago.” Axel taps the stack of files.
“They work in a sort of underground network. Where KORT has five chairs who filter orders through their prospective organizations, Kratos appears to have one person in charge, dishing out directives. Each member has a couple of other contacts that they deliver the mandates to, but they only know the ones directly connected to them.”
Maybe I’m nervous, but the first thing that comes to mind is Mary Kay because Luella sold it for a spell—she even had a pink Cadillac. Makeup isn’t quite the same as world domination, but it’s all I’ve got. “Like a pyramid scheme?”
“Kind of.” His lips twitch. “Yes.”
I straighten my spine, hoping to get to the crux of this. “So, you think E hired me to steal from Kratos or for them?”
Axel arches his brows. “For them.”
A veneer of intrigue glazes everyone’s faces—other than Axel and Zara. They’re all receiving this information at the same time.
So, I push for more. “You think E is part of Kratos? The leader or …”
He gestures to the unknown. “I’m not sure where he falls in their hierarchy.” Again, his focus shifts between Cash and me before he slides on his glasses and flips through a file. “This is where I get to the part that I believe will be very personal to you.”
Personal? “I’m listening.”
“Zara mentioned that she used to be an assassin. Years ago, she killed several members of Kratos. There were fourteen at that time. She killed eleven.” He states this all so plainly—a testament to who the Noires are.
I try not to get hung up on eleven deaths or the career-assassin tidbit. We discussed lipstick shades the other night, so otherwise, Zara is just another girl. And I witnessed her brother-in-law kill two men on my behalf.
This is family.
Cash moves his hand to my back, scratching up and down my spine, aware that murder isn’t exactly my cup of tea.
“She was shown pictures of all fourteen targets,” Axel goes on.
“I hadn’t thought of that until recently, but it was a seed to build from—her ability to identify the three who survived.
We obtained photos of people who met the profile for the person harassing Rena’s family, who’d stayed here during the security breach I mentioned or had strong associations with anyone who did.
It’s been a decade since Zara saw the targets, but she’d been trained to memorize faces. ”
“Still, it was hard,” Zara confesses, but with that, she’s allotting me a minute to process, her green eyes full of compassion. “There were several who looked familiar.”
My head spins. I’m not grasping how this has anything to do with me, but Axel blazes full steam ahead, laying out photos in crime-investigation mode.
“We took the suspects she thought she recognized, who also met those other criteria, and worked off a hunch, based on what your mother said about your father’s death.”
That awakens me like a bucket of ice water. How did my father get brought into this?
“I shared that,” Cash explains, noting my misgivings, “just for context about E.”
“Oh.” I mull that over, accepting it because he asked me in Florida if he could involve Axel. “This is a lot though. I’m not sure I’m following.”
“That’s fair. It is a lot.” Axel passes three photographs down to me, which Ryker apprehends to take a closer look, but once I receive them, I can tell it’s one man, spanning several years.
“That is Nigel Edward Dryden,” Axel states.
“He’s extremely private. He was one of the three targets from Kratos who survived.
A self-made billionaire, with much of his wealth in real estate and private companies.
Though he does have a personal interest in art. ”
Art? I see where this could be going, but I stay quiet, not ready to jump to any conclusions at this point.
“He visited your father in prison a few times over the years.”
“You think he’s E?” I offer, studying the face of this guy and wondering if I can get his voice off anything. That’s how I’d identify him.
“I do.”
“Okay.” I look up, a modicum of relief flooding me. “That’s leverage. I’ve always been at a disadvantage because I don’t know who he is. This might be enough to free me from anything more than this job.”
“There’s more.” Axel’s face sobers. “His last visit was the week before your father died. They also spoke on the phone a few days prior to his death.”
“Well,” I start, heeding Zara’s glossy eyes and her hand on her sternum, which makes me question my conclusion, “that makes sense. They were friends.”
“Another thing to note is that Agent Glines from the FBI had stopped by to chat with your father a few days before that, and—”
“You think my father was turning?” I cut him off, unable to believe it, though he was desperate to come home.
“The agent straddled fences, so the subject matter might not have been about your father turning on anyone.” Axel exhales.
“Glines died a few years ago, so I can’t dig into that.
But … Nigel—or E—also spoke with another prisoner that week.
” He takes another photo from his file, leaning to pass it to Ryker, then Cash, then me, and as recognition hits me, he corroborates it.
“That’s the guy who murdered your father. ”
“Oh my God.” I look at the mug shot of the prisoner who has haunted me because he ended my father’s life with a shiv to his throat, claiming it was self-defense, when my dad hadn’t had a violent cell in his body.
Tears cascade down my cheeks. “You think I’m working for the man who ordered the hit on my father? ”
Cash’s arm flies out in front of me, physically shielding me as his words do the same. “She is absolutely not finishing this job then.”