Relentless (Option Zero #2) - Christy Reece Page 0,72
good.
The phone beside him intoned a delightful tune, one he’d had created just for him. If there was one thing he wanted above all others it was to have what no one else could get.
Reaching over, he slid a slender finger across the answer icon. “Yes?”
“The girl dropped the film.”
A self-satisfied smirk lifted his mouth. “Of course she did.” The little message he’d sent to her house had no doubt scared her silly. People were just so predictable, especially women.
“You won this round. Doesn’t mean it won’t come back in the future and bite you. You need to be more careful.”
Ferante rolled his eyes at the overdramatic tone. “You worry too much. She was just some nobody trying to make a name for herself. I knew that once I set my dogs on her, she wouldn’t last. They never do.”
“Maybe so, but you’re on her radar now. She may talk.”
“Then we should have disposed of her. That was my suggestion, if you remember.”
The man sighed. “Yes, I know that, and while it was a good suggestion, I have to weigh many variables before commissioning such things. You only have yourself to be concerned with. I have a responsibility to many.”
“Of course you do.” Ferante mentally shrugged. Soothing the beast never hurt his cause. Little did the beast know that he was as disposable as everyone else. He was, however, infinitely more useful than most.
“If she starts talking, we won’t have a choice, though, will we?”
Another sigh. “No, we won’t.”
Knowing it was a foregone conclusion at some point, Ferante said, “Let me know when you want that to happen. My man is still in play. His methods are quite unique—he’s the artistic sort and a bit eccentric. However, he does know how to get the job done.”
“I would like to avoid that, if possible.”
Understanding his reasoning but not agreeing with him, Ferante made noises he thought sounded sympathetic. It was tiresome, but sometimes one had to pretend to care. An amusement in its own way, because people were just too stupid to accept that he did not care at all, about anyone but himself. He held regard for no one, not even for this man who’d started him in the business.
“I’ll call you if anything changes. In the meantime, if you could keep a lower profile, that would be helpful.”
“I do what I do. People who don’t like it shouldn’t exist.”
There was the expected shocked silence. He didn’t really understand why there was shock, though. It wasn’t as if he made a secret of how he felt. He prided himself on his openness. He was actually the only authentic person he knew.
“There are people watching your actions.”
Ah, yes, the all-powerful people who believed they made the world turn. He didn’t mind doing for them what he did. It was often an entertaining and mutually beneficial arrangement.
There was a long pause. Yes, he knew the man hated the shortened name. And that’s exactly why he used it.
Finally, frustration obvious in his voice, the man said, “Goodbye.”
Not bothering to end the call—it would end on its own—Ferante drew in a breath of fresh air. The blue of the ocean before him competed for beauty with the crystal-clear sky. It was picture perfect.
Maybe that was the problem. It was too perfect. He needed to think on that. What could he do to mar perfection? What would be the challenge?
The solution came like a flash, and he knew exactly what he needed to do.
Chapter Thirty
Montana
OZ Headquarters
Liam pulled into the drive of OZ and was pleased to see all the cars and SUVs. The gang was all here. He’d asked all operatives to show up for a brief meeting. Every one of them deserved to meet Aubrey again. They had been with him on every mission to find her. They needed a new introduction.
Aubrey was a little apprehensive, but he knew that would pass. Whether she was ready to accept it or not, they were now her family. No matter what happened between the two of them, OZ would always be there for her.
What would happen between them was up in the air. Not for him. He had known for years that what he felt for her was more than a need to rescue a woman. In those few days, he had fallen hard. And each time he looked at her now, he fell a little bit further.