Page 30 of Agent vs. Assassin
Damn it, he will not soften me up over this mob thing. Nope. Not happening. Because what good is a loft if we’re dead? And I’m not dying yet. There are too many people to kill to leave this soon. I suppose I can settle for putting them in jail. I do put people in jail. I just keep getting pitted against killers who try and kill me and leave me no options.
I enter our room to find some guy I don’t know messing around the bed, checking under the mattress for who knows what he thinks Ghost might have done in here. It’s ridiculous. “Get out,” I order, and open the door to the loft and start the walk upward.
Kane’s voice sounds behind me, a muffled exchange in Spanish I ignore but understand, though I’m amused by the fact that few people know that fact. I’m married to Kane, and I’m an FBI agent. Do they think I’m stupid? I actually hope they do. It’s pretty much perfection to understand what those around you believe you do not. They say shit. I hold it against them.
I enter the upstairs, an exact replica of my prior loft, which translates to a desk with big white boards lining the walls. My phone buzzes for about the millionth time with a text message, and I sit down in one of the two chairs on the left-hand wall, or rather plop down. It’s been a hellish day. I could place the desk between me and Kane, but why? I welcome confrontation.
I’m not hiding.
I snake my phone from my pocket and read through a dozen messages from Tic Tac, picking out what is important. Number one, the president is going to call me, so watch for an unknown number. Ellis is still offline. His phone pings at the Walker ranch with Elsa’s phone and is not moving. What do I want Tic Tac to do about it? Lucas never contacted Tic Tac, and Tic Tac is freaking out. He’s got an agency guy helping him track Elsa, but has given “her” limited information. So, the guy is a girl.
I’m about to call Tic Tac when Kane appears in the doorway, looking all Latin hotness and holding a bag of chocolate. It pisses me off. I set my phone on the table next to me and stand, angling toward him. “Chocolate will not save you.”
He closes the short space between us and captures my hand, pressing the chocolate into my palm. “You love chocolate.”
“Chocolate will not save you,” I repeat, “or me. What the hell were you thinking, Kane?”
His chin lowers, and he releases my hand, stepping backward while I set the chocolate on the table next to my phone. The battle is on. And we’re not leaving this loft until it’s settled.
Chapter Twenty
That step backward Kane just took doesn’t infuriate me. It destroys me. That fight we had over him walking away to protect me isn’t over, and I’m starting to think it’s one I can’t win.
“So this is how it is between us now, Kane?”
I see understanding flash over his face, and the next thing I know, his hands are firm on my shoulders as he rotates me and plants me against the wall, him in front of me, but he doesn’t exactly cage me. Not if you don’t count his fist planted on the wall on either side of my head, no part of him touching me.
“No to whatever you’re thinking.No. But damn it, Lilah, at any point, any at all, are you going to ask me what I’ve done instead of deciding you already know?” he demands.
“You shut me out. It’s not as if you’ve invited conversation. And at this point, you made a deal with the mob. That’s all I need to know.”
“Is it? Come on, bella. It’s not always that simple, and you know it. You and I, we do what we have to do to survive in a world where most would not. That’s what I did, and damn it, you are the one who lectured me about not letting my father get in my head. You told me to do what I do and take control. I took control. He just doesn’t know it yet, but he damn sure will.”
“And you think getting in bed with the mob was the way to do that?” I challenge. “We’re battling the cartel, the Society, and now the damn mob.”
“We’re not battling any of them. We control them. Through the mob I own my father. Through my father I own the mob. And through you, we’re on our way to the same with the Society.”
“How does this control your father?”
“The mob has rebuilt. They’re well-rooted in every place my father needs to be to make money. My uncle didn’t have the balls to go to war with them. My father does. And the mob hates my father. He’s why they had to rebuild.”
“So you started a war? How do we not get in the middle?”
“I didn’t start a war. I simply told the patriarch of the mob my father is back. They plan to end him before he comes for them.”
“And if they can’t?”
“I will.”
I shake my head. “No. This changes nothing.Again, it leaves you in charge of the cartel.”
“That’s not true. If I kill my father, my role is cemented as his replacement. It’s a claim to leadership, and I swear that bastard is setting me up for that. If the mob kills him and I play savior, staving off a war, it changes the dynamic. Instead of me being forced to take control or watch a battle of the worst human beings I know on this earth battle for control, the mob vows to respect an allegiance to my chosen successor.”
“I really don’t get why this gives you the right to walk away, but it doesn’t matter. The cartel will accept you walking away. You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Because it’s about money?”