Chapter 6
Anita
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Operation: Kill him
Adrenaline courses through me as his footsteps approach the door. Victor speaks as he’s opening it. The words are muffled, then becomes clearer. “Jax, I need you at —”
The door is wide open as Victor stands there transfixed. His hand on the knob, his eyes confused and stunned as Ronan cocks the gun, backing him into the room. I grin walking through the corridor then residing beside Ronan. Victor's hands fly up, creeping back.
“Well, well. What a nice fucking office. You’ve outdone yourself,” Ronan sneers, yet he smirks as he shoves Victor back with the barrel to his head. He stumbles, landing on his large mahogany desk with papers scattered around it.
I glance around, noticing the large TVs mounted on the walls. A fish tank resides near a lounge area and brown leather sofas. Shades of deep brown paint the walls, including a mini bar arranged at the edge of the room. Quite fancy.
I swirl my dagger in my hand, enjoying the feel of the handle knocking against my fingers. Victor lets out a breathless laugh, his palms gripping the rim of the desk. His mask is off, and I will say I’m even more disgusted than when he was touching me. He has the face of a man full of deceit, trickery, and arrogance. Thick bushy brows, with dark rings around his coal eyes and a sharp chin that’ll probably cut you. He resembles a raccoon.
He cuts his evil eyes at me, and I swear I almost vomited right on the spot. “I must say I’m very disappointed. I was looking forward to taking you fromhimand claiming you as my own.” The grin still on his face, but a shadow of dissatisfaction crossed his eyes.
This time I burst out into genuine laughter. “That would’ve never happened. Not in a million fucking years,” I clarify, my belly aching from the outburst, the muscles in my cheeks contracting from an ordinary act that I clearly need to do more often.
Ronan keeps the pistol on Victor. “You should've known, with all the enemies you’ve made, it would’ve always eventually led to this.”
He switches a sharp glance at Ronan. I’m sure he’s piecing two and two together without even seeing our faces. “So, you two are the ones knocking off my men. Disrupting my distribution. I suppose you know who I am and how I conduct my business.” He gives a toothy smile. “I guess you finally caught up with me.”
You’re the one who invited us, prick.“Not a formal way to invite guests. But it did the job,” I retort delicately, running my nail on my blade, sure to not prick myself.
“So, who are you? Who sent you here for me?” He claps his slender hands in front of his pants. He doesn’t seem the least bit nervous. Which only makes me suspicious of his nonchalant attitude.
“Who are we, who are we?” Ronan mocks, waving his gun around in a circle. “So reluctant to know the faces of whom you’ll last see. It’s almost iconic.”
Ronan reaches up, reaching around to untie the mask around his eyes. It drops on the floor with a light thud. “Do you remember who I am?”
Victor shrugs carelessly. “As you’ve said, I have many enemies. I don't keep a photographic record.”
“Take another look,” I say.
He narrows his eyes, studying over Ronan's features, still unbothered by this gun pointed directly at him. He raises his eyebrows, his back straightening. Snapping his fingers as if he figured it out, he points. “I.” Then he sinks back down, his face dulling. “Still don’t fucking know.”
My blood boils.
Ronan snaps, stepping to Victor, he digs the gun into his temple. “Think back twelve years ago, motherfucker.”
Victor only chuckles, wincing as Ronan fills with rage. Ronan jerks his head before stepping back again. Victor checks out Ronan again, his brows furrowing, then a few seconds later redness fills his cheeks, finally giving him some life.
This time, Victor lets out a nervous sigh. “I’ll be damned.” He continues staring at Ronan. “What happened to you man? You look like death. I mean, fuck, you're ugly as shit.” He laughs with condescension, as if they are the best buddies in the world. “Though, your scar healed nicely.” He touches his lip, as if he has a slice there. “How about the other ones?” Victor grins, evil etched in his features.
I frown, flicking my eyes to Ronan.Other ones?
Ronan grips the gun tighter. “Shut the fuck up!” he barks out.