I glance at the name and email in the contact section again.
If this turns out to be too good to be true, I’ll just thank them for their time and politely decline. Besides, Shelly may be a traitor, but I don’t think she’d send me a job posting that’s linked to a potential criminal.
At least, not intentionally.
“Here goes nothing.”
I submit the necessary information, not expecting to hear back from this mystery person for at least a week, but an hour after I’ve closed my laptop and dove right back into devouring Oreos in my bathrobe, my phone pings.
I swipe open the email to find an address, a meeting time, and a curt response.
Thank you for your application, Miss Finley. I expect to see you first thing in the morning to complete your interview.
Chapter Two
Jaxon
There’s a chill in my office as I drum my fingers on my knee and wait for the woman I’m interviewing to arrive.
Callie Finley.
Pretty name, but what I really care about is her spotless background. With a clean record, early retirement from teaching, and the fact that she’s single with no kids, I think she’ll make a perfect nanny for my nephew, Leo.
I fucking hope so, anyway.
I love the kid, but between my abrupt guardianship and then struggling to find someone I trust to care for him, I’m losing my mind. I’ve been distracted from my job, and for both of our sakes, I need to find the asshole who put a hit on my sister and end them.
My phone vibrates with a text from my old partner, Remi. We worked together for the hitman agency, The Blackwell Syndicate.
On paper, they’re a private security and risk management firm for the ultra-wealthy. But behind closed doors, they’recontract killers for the worst of the worst, political ‘fixers,’ and high-level mercenaries.
And the name Remi’s just given me confirms my suspicions.
“Dimitri Volkov,” I grit, rattling my desk when I slam my fist against it.
Just days ago, Isabella was hospitalized following a near-fatal car accident in downtown Chicago.
Only, it wasn’t an accident.
Her car was found wrapped around a light pole at Lake Shore and Grand. But Isa hates that intersection. In fact, she’ll do anything she can to avoid it because it’s so dangerous. Which means the guy she was working for sent her off her usual route on purpose.
Why? Because he works for Volkov, and Volkov wants me dead.
I might be a retired hitman, free to walk without fear of retaliation from the Syndicate, but Dimitri’s a criminal. He doesn’t follow their code, and he’s becoming a problem the agency can’t control.
Remi said the Syndicate wants him dealt with. And now that I know he’s the one who tried to kill my sister, I’ve decided to resurface to do the honors.
Tell the Syndicate this is my last assignment. After this, I’m done. For good.
I receive a wire transfer for two million in response, and let my head fall back with a groan.
Will I ever truly be free from them?
My gut tells me no, despite having earned my freedom soul by fucking soul.
A loud crash, followed by a feminine yelp, has me on my feet in seconds. I grab my gun from the magnetic holster under mydesk. Just like the others I’ve secretly stashed around the house, it’s always locked and loaded, just in case.
I race down the long hall, passing rooms I’ve hardly touched in my time here, and head straight for the main living room.
