Page 101 of Hidden Desires
“Sorry, I forgot that he tried to kill you. I can assure you that was not the order I gave him. He was supposed to bring youto me so I could meet you and convince you to come and join my crew.” The man raised his hand and gestured toward the cheering crowd below.
The commotion was so loud that Blade struggled to hear the man as he talked.
“Well, my father was always a rotten bastard. So it isn’t a surprise that he wanted to knock me off. He always liked being the center of attention and didn’t like sharing the spotlight.”
“Were you a performer with your father as well?”
Blade shook his head. “He started to teach me blade throwing, but I could see him holding back, probably afraid that I would outshine him on stage. Like I said, he didn’t like being overshadowed.”
“Clearly.”
On either side of the chair stood two neatly dressed Asian men. Both were perfectly identical. Both had shaved black hair, both dressed in the same black and red suit—even though it was hotter than hell’s ass outside—both holding matching swords at their sides.
Were these the crazy Asian assassins Nikolai had told them about when they first arrived in Vegas? Apparently, the twins had taken out a fleet of Asian mobsters at the age of sixteen, using only a razor blade and a training sword.
Fact or fiction? That was the powerful thing about stories; once they were heard, you never stopped wondering.
“So, do you have a name? Or do I keep referring to you as the creepy Latin dude?” Blade asked, eyes still locked on the right assassin.
“Everyone calls me Raz,” the man said, grinning at Blade and adding another disturbing image to the growing pile he was sure would haunt him in his dreams for years to come.
“Wow, you must be quite the leader bringing together Latino and Asian gang members. Talk about a deadly crew you got going here,” Blade complimented.
In his experience, Latino gangs and Asian gangs were some of the deadliest he had ever encountered. They were smart, organized, and ruthless when it came to business.
Seeing both cultures mixed together in one unified crew was impressive and a bit scary.
“What can I say, I’m a natural born leader,” Raz said, giving Blade a cocky smirk.
What was the saying? Never trust a snake lying still in the grass?
Judging by the two deadly assassins standing at Raz’s sides, he got the feeling that Raz was pretty deadly himself. It took a certain level of madness to command the respect of two such notorious killers—if the stories were true.
It was probably better for his health if he stopped asking questions.
“Well, Mr. Raz, let’s hear this offer you’ve been dying to pitch me. Explain to me why it’s worth leaving the Shadow Vipers and coming to join the Cyanyd Kings.”
The man’s grin was the stuff of children's nightmares.
“Did you bring your blades?”
A cold chill ran down Blade’s spine.
“Yes, of course. My babies are with me all the time.”
“Good. Now we’ll see whatyouare made of.”
The crowd behind him erupted in another enormous cheer.
Before he even had a chance to realize what was going on, he was grabbed by two men and dragged backward toward the pit.
“What the?” Blade exclaimed as he was tossed down into the hole.
Inside the pit, two men dragged away the lifeless body of a young man who was bleeding profusely from his cracked-open skull.
On the other side of the pit, stood a large man chugging a beer with what looked like a short metal pipe sticking out of his side.
Raz appeared above the pit.
