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Chapter

Fourteen

JAMIE

Dammit. I really am not in the mood for this.

I stare down the barrel.

Fuches tries to hold strong, but he’s already sweating bullets.

He’s not a killer. He doesn’t have it in him.

But desperate people do crazy things.

So I help him find the logic he needs. “I appreciate your frustration, but this won’t accomplish anything.” I offer my hand to take the gun. “If you kill me, my employer releases the photos. Sends someone else to extract revenge.”

“Why should I believe you’ll destroy the files then?” he asks.

A fair point. That’s the trouble with blackmail. Once you give an inch, people ask for a mile. “What other choice do you have? You’d have to kill me and Mr. Holmes if you want to get away without witnesses. And anyone who came running to help. People will figure out you were here. You’re not a professional. You don’t know how to hide your identity. Your family will find out about this. And they’ll see the photos. Even if you manage to get away, you’ll stay the man who killed over a tryst with a prostitute. Is that really what you want?”

“She’s right. And who knows what her boss will want if we don’t comply,” Matteo agrees.

“Aren’t you mad?” Fuches turns back to Matteo.

I don’t take the opportunity to knock the gun from his hands. I let him find surrender on his own time.

“It’s not fair, but she’s right. I’m the one who cheated on my fiancée. I knew the risks. I’ll face the consequences. That’s what a man does,” he says.

Fuches frowns.

“We need to be careful. We have power. Sometimes that’s used against us,” Matteo adds.

It’s exactly what Fuches needs to hear. That he’s the one who’s really in control.

Finally, he lowers the gun. He pulls the folder from his pocket and places it on the bed.

I read carefully. All the names and account numbers we requested.

Only they’re not what I expected.

The account that pays me is supposed to belong to a man who doesn’t exist, not a shell company I recognize.

Did Hera have the info wrong? Is she setting me up?

Or is it something else entirely?

I have no time to consider it. Fuches has a knife in his hands.

Fuck. I hate dealing with civilians.

This time, I don’t try to talk him down. I go straight to bodily harm.

In one swift movement, I knock the knife out of his hands.

He gasps as I hold his arm in place, move around his body, and pull him into a chokehold.

Ugh. What was even the point of this little gesture of resistance?