Page 104 of Hard Wired

“Sadly, we have less pleasant business to handle today. A righting of wrongs. Unpleasant, but necessary. Gentleman, if you’ll come with me? I believe our friends are arriving as we speak.”

Charles and the captains filed out through the pool house door.

Patrick pulled Dominic to follow them.

Yellow glare bounced off the swimming pool. Dominic raised his hand, shielding his eyes from the sun. He stumbled, and Patrick yanked his arm to keep him going. Raymond stayed close to Dominic’s other side.

The back door of the main house opened, and Alexi brought Sylvie out to join them. Aaron Sandford trailed after them, his smug smile firmly in place. At least she looked unharmed. Her mouth opened in shock when she saw Dominic, probably reacting to the state of his face.

Raymond elbowed Dominic again, like he was warning him to keep his mouth shut.

But what the hell was Sylvie doing out here? Raymond was supposed to be protecting her. He’d said he wasn’t going to give her to the Russians. Dominic wanted to scream. Raymond’s whispers earlier were the only thing keeping him quiet.

Everyone related to the Syndicate had gathered on the far side of the pool. Now, a new group of people walked through the gate, coming from the direction of the driveway.

A man in his early forties led the way, dressed in business casual like Charles. Then a phalanx of beefy thugs in boxy suits.

They stopped on the other side of the pool, facing the Syndicate.

“Charles, how are you?” the leader of the other gang said. He wore a watch that bore a resemblance to a Rolex, but even with blood in his eyes Dominic could tell it was probably fake. The man’s clothes were off the rack. This guy was middle management at best.

Whoever this group was, the Russian mob or whatever, they hadn’t bothered to send anyone too important. That just confirmed that Uncle Charles was way out of his league with these people. Dominic would have been, too. He wouldn’t have wanted to be a blip on the radar of people like this when he was heading the Syndicate.

“Thank you for meeting on such short notice, Victor,” Charles said. “I appreciate the courtesy.”

Victor’s smile was tight. “Our pleasure.” His eyes flicked over to Dominic, probably because he was the only guy who looked like he’d recently received a beating. “Is that our friend?”

“That’s right. He’s eager to get to know you.”

“As are we. And the girl?”

Charles waved a hand at Raymond. “Change of plans, I’m afraid. Of course, you’re welcome to question her, given the information we shared with you.”

Victor was nodding like he understood just what Charles meant. “Questions. We do have questions. Ms. Trousseau, is it?”

“Yes,” Sylvie said in a small voice.

Dominic’s entire body seized to see these people focused on her. Raymond’s hand circled Dominic’s elbow, like he was trying to send some sort of message through his skin.

“I understand you wrote a nasty little bit of code and sent it to some associates of mine.”

“Yes,” she said again.

Goosebumps broke out painfully over Dominic’s back.

“And whose orders were you working under?” Victor asked.

Charles seemed uninterested in this exchange, tapping his loafer against the stone patio—until Sylvie’s next answer.

“Charles Traynor. He hired me to do it.”

Dominic could hardly believe what she’d just said. “What—” Raymond’s hand tightened around his arm, and Dominic clamped his mouth closed.

Uncle Charles couldn’t believe it, either. “She’s lying,” he sputtered. “That’s absurd.”

Okay, so this was some sort of plan Sylvie and Raymond had cooked up. That was the only explanation. But what was his brother thinking, screwing around with the Russian mafia? How was this supposed to help them?

A dozen different men on either side of the pool had their hands on their weapons. No one had aimed one yet.

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