Page 57 of Iris' Lying Eyes

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Page 57 of Iris' Lying Eyes

Piece of Shit: When and where?

With a weary sigh, I tap out a response to my unwanted messenger, as I ask the cab driver to change directions.

He casts me a disgruntled stare, but I’m immune. He’ll get paid either way. Dick.

The meet-up location isn’t ideal, but I can’t exactly show up at his house. I’m sure his wife would have something to say about it.

It’s risky, but at least there’s always a group of teenagers seeking to party. They may be useless in terms of protection, but in the age of smartphones, there’ll be plenty of digital witnesses if something goes wrong.

After paying the driver, I find a log and plop down on it tiredly. This night has been shit, and I long for a bed and oblivion.

Above me, I hear the hum of partiers on the bridge, confirming I’m not truly alone. Although I know if I disappeared, no one would care.

Rubbing the ache in my sternum, I look up when a fancy town car pulls in. It’s definitely out of place among the used cars around it.

I guess I should have anticipated the request, but I’m still annoyed when the dick rolls down his window and says, “Get in.”

Glancing up at the bridge with regret, I get into the vehicle and meet the stone-cold gaze of my mark.

He’s not bad looking, even if older, a silver fox, as they say. Dressed in another tailored suit, this one a navy blue, he once again exudes power effortlessly.

Hazel eyes glare from under dark brows furrowed in the center of his forehead. His thin lips form a forbidding scowl, emphasized by high cheekbones and a thin nose.

He glances at his watch as his driver pulls away before snapping, “Well?”

“Well, what?” I snap back.

If I show fear, he’ll eat me up. This I know from all the games. The problem is, this time, I’m facing a different kind of foe.

This one hides his evil behind the United States government, and it would be foolish to assume he’s hesitant to act because of it.

After all, he bargained away his own damn daughter. Can you be any more fucking evil?

He huffs and eyes me rudely. “Why am I speaking to you?”

Inspecting my fingernails, I murmur, “Because that’s how he wants it to be.”

Crushing my fingers in his hand, he hisses, “I could make you disappear right now.”

His icy eyes confirm his conviction, and I raise a brow. “I’m sure you could, big man. But what would happen to her then?”

He flings my hand away, and I straighten, eyeing him carefully. Beneath his facade of a mighty senator, he’s turning out to be a petulant child.

“What now?” he asks.

“We wait for direction,” I say with a shrug.

“And my daughter?” He asks coolly.

My lips curve, and I chuckle. “As if you fucking care. As long as she’s gone for the election, hm?”

His eyes narrow, and I bite my tongue. Shit. Why did I say that? Fucking stupid.

Leaning over me, he says, “Are you sure you have what it takes to double-cross me?”

“You’re delusional,” I mutter, flinching when he punches the seat beside my head.

“Tell that little miscreant that when this is over, he’s dead.”




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