Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(98)

That was the best he could offer the man, especially since he couldn’t say if it were even possible to acquire the information he wanted, especially when he wasn’t sure how this meeting with Elias would end.

“Let me get something figured out for Soleil,” he said with a glance at his house, then back to Uilleam. “Still doesn’t make me a part of your Den.”

No, it didn’t, but Uilleam was very good at bending people to his will.



Located at the corner of Brix and 14th, the Royal Eve was a rather quaint restaurant meant for lovers. It was to this place that Uilleam had brought Karina, though at the time, he hadn’t anticipated that she would become something far more than he could have ever imagined.

Or that she would die …

Already seated at a table in the far corner of the main floor, Elias Harrington didn’t appear concerned in the slightest by Uilleam’s sudden appearance an hour early.

But once Uilleam got his first look at Elias, he didn’t much care how the man felt because an internal clock had begun to tick.

There was only a matter of time before he was no longer a problem.

“Elias, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You’re a bit … smaller than I expected.”

Though condescending, his words were true. Elias couldn’t be more than five-eight, if an inch. Nor was he particularly built, but rather slight of frame. He looked like any other man that was average with a power complex.

Had he not witnessed first hand what the man was capable of, Uilleam might have been disappointed.

“A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Uilleam,” Elias returned, but he didn’t look pleased.

His smile was too tight, his posture too stiff for the man to feel comfort as he stood a mere few feet from Uilleam—a man he had spent years trying to destroy.

For once, Uilleam didn’t take pleasure in someone’s discomfort around him.

Elias’ gaze skirted to Kai as he stopped a few steps behind Uilleam. He didn’t have to speak, letting his presence and sheer size speak for him.

“You asked for a meet,” Uilleam said as he took a seat. “Here I am.”

“Did you know,” Elias started, “three years ago, I was able to clear thirteen-point-four million in profit?” With nothing but time on his hands, Uilleam chose to entertain him. “I would be impressed if that number was significantly higher. But we can’t be all good at what we do, can we?”

“Do you recall what you were doing three years ago?”

Uilleam lost his smile. He remembered all too well.

“You were recovering from five bullet wounds. I’d hoped you would cease to be a problem for me then, but—” Elias shrugged, gesturing at Uilleam with a wave of his hand, “—you’re still here, unfortunately.”

Uilleam remembered all too well the feel of the heated metal tearing through his flesh. Worse, that pain had only multiplied as more bullets plugged their way into his chest. It was an agony the likes of which he never wanted to experience again.

But it paled in comparison to the way he felt the day he lost Karina.

That had been a different kind of pain, one that had ripped him to shreds.

“Some thought me dead, now they think me immortal. It seems your little plan has only helped my business. Bad luck there.”

Elias smiled at him, as though indulging a child. “You’ve been trying to get my attention—you now have it.”

“Then how about you tell me what grievance I’ve committed against you that has turned you into my enemy?”

Elias shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve amassed a great many enemies, Kingmaker.”

“But only one concerns me.”

“It’s the cost of doing business, you understand. It’s nothing personal.”

Oh, but it had felt personal to Uilleam.

But he hadn’t gotten as far as he did by letting his emotions get the best of him, so despite what he felt, he swallowed his words back down before he said something that would end with more bloodshed than he intended.

“And now?” Uilleam asked resting his elbows on the table. “What’s stopping you from ending this now? You have the means and opportunity.” A flick of his wrist at the men around them, and the rather empty restaurant.

A cup of tea rested in front of Elias, a small silver spoon resting on the saucer next to it. He picked it up, adding a liberal amount of sugar before stirring, steam billowing with the movement. His smile was patient as he took a sip, reclining back as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

“I’ve always thought you were like an errant child, one that wasn’t quite sure what their place was in the world. Your attempt at playing God didn’t bother me—not until you went too far. You want to know what you did to incur my wrath? You interfered where you shouldn’t have, resulting in the death of the only man I’d ever loved. For that, I returned the favor.” Elias’ expression didn’t shift. “You asked why I haven’t gotten rid of you yet, it’s because I have no need at this current juncture.”

“Then why are we here?”

Something, though he couldn’t be sure what it was, was poking at the back of his subconscious, an errant thought that he couldn’t quite grasp.

Uilleam didn’t much care for the man’s insults—his father had said far worse over the years—but there was something about this exchange that felt … off.