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CHAPTER 1
THERE were any number of men ould do any job Marcus Lattimer wanted done He’d a his lifetiray The men directly employed by Lattimer were absolute in their loyalty—he would tolerate no less—but he never allowed himself to fully trust anyone
Some jobsSome jobs demanded personal satisfaction This one was a ue that Marcus had none By their definition, they’d be right But he was bound by a fierce loyal code His honor hat mattered
Allen Cross was an arrogant, coattail-riding asshole The world would be a better place without his kind of filth, and Marcus was determined that the task would be completed this day
Marcus attached the silencer and tucked the gun into the waist of his slacks Drawing the Armani suit coat closed, he left the confines of his car and instructed his driver to wait He walked at an unhurried pace toward the entrance of the high-rise that housed Cross Enterprises Around hi of dusk, and headlights fro the alleyways
The streets werebarren of the weekday horde of eularity He paused a short distance frouard that uy and, like uys, had a et from payday to payday
After tonight, the guard wouldn’t have the financial worries of others in his class Marcus had seen to that Right now, the guard would take a strategic break from his post, and at the sao down
Money bought s Loyalty Disloyalty A blind eye A moment’s distraction Fifteen minutes was all Marcus needed to rid the world of Allen Cross
Cross was a creature of habit He came into his offices every Saturday after seven and remained until nine PM, when his car service collected him and drove him to the same restaurant ten blocks away He liked the few hours of solitude to go over paperwork—but what he perhaps liked the most was the freedom to victimize a helpless woman with impunity
Marcus’s jaw tightened in fury Predictability killed a man As Cross was about to find out
Marcus rode the elevator to the twenty-first floor and stepped onto the cheap, fake Italiana faint echo as he walked through the empty reception area
The door to Cross’s office was ajar, and a faint light shone through the crack Marcus pushed at the door and let it slide soundlessly open Cross was behind his desk, kicked back in his chair, a glass of wine in one hand as he read a sheaf of papers with the other
Marcus watched, content to wait for his prey to become aware he was hunted
After a lass down and leaned forward He halted in aze locked on Marcus Cross’s eyes widened in alar over his lips
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my office?”
Marcus strolled forward, his expression purposely bland as he loosened his coat Cross rose, his hand inching toward the intercom on his desk
“Get out or I’ll summon security”
Marcus smiled “I think you’ll find him unavailable”
A flicker of unease skittered across Cross’s face when Marcus continued to s the slide of the stock over his palm He thumbed the safety, and leveled the barrel at Cross’s chest
“Would you prefer to die sitting or standing?”
Cross blanched, and he staggered, his hands slapping the polished any of his executive desk “What do you want?” he asked hoarsely “Money? I have ”
A sneer twisted Marcus’s lips “You couldn’t afford my shoes”
His finger tightened on the trigger, and he watched the awareness in Cross’s eyes, the panicked realization that he was going to die
Cross lunged sideways, and the sound of the bullet sh the spacious office Cross hit the floor, his arh the white silk shirt, growing as he gasped for breath
As much as Marcus wanted to watch the life slowly fade from the bastard’s eyes, he had to finish this now He raised the gun and airay acceptance of death in his victier and then turned away, satisfied that justice had been served
THE cab pulled to an abrupt halt outside the building where Sarah Daniels had worked for a period of six ht of walking into Cross Enterprises made her physically ill
She flung a twenty at the cabbie and ignored his offer to give her change Clu the door, she bolted froh-rise at a dead run
The lobby was euard was at his post Was she too late? What would she have even said to the man? That her brother was here to kill Stanley Cross?
She bolted toward the elevator and pounded on the up button, praying it would be here She heaved a sigh of relief and threw herself through the doors as they slid open
She jammed her thumb on the button for the twenty-first floor and then hit the close door button repeatedly
Hurry Hurry Hurry
She had to be on tih with it
Stupid So stupid
She should have known She’d seen the rage in Marcus’s eyes He’d been way too quiet Too collected as he’d calued She’d allowed him to make all the plans All the decisions She hadn’t even knohere they were going, only that Marcus’s private jet was fueled and waiting for them
Finally the elevator doors slid open, and she rushed into the reception area and turned in the direction of Allen’s office She saw Allen’s door wide open, saw Marcus’s profile and then watched as Marcus tucked the gun back into his waistband
Her horrified gaze tracked doard to see Allen Cross lying on the floor, blood staining his pristine white shirt
Her hand flew to her mouth and she backed hastily away
Oh God Oh God Oh God
She was too late She hadn’t gotten here in time
Allen was dead Marcus had killed him
Oh God
Nausea welled in her throat She nearly tripped on her feet as she steadily backpedaled She had to get away The police would be here soon Wouldn’t they? Surely someone couldn’t just walk off the streets and kill so
She turned and ran back toward the elevator, praying it was still there She knew that at least tere taken out of service on the weekends, but that left torking on this side of the building
She jabbed at the down button with her thumb and held her breath, prepared to make a run for the stairs if she had to The door slid open and she fell over herself getting in She punched the button for the ground floor and turned just as the doors started to close, only to find herself staring at Marcus’s frozen expression several feet away
CHAPTER 1
THERE were any number of men ould do any job Marcus Lattimer wanted done He’d a his lifetiray The men directly employed by Lattimer were absolute in their loyalty—he would tolerate no less—but he never allowed himself to fully trust anyone
Some jobsSome jobs demanded personal satisfaction This one was a ue that Marcus had none By their definition, they’d be right But he was bound by a fierce loyal code His honor hat mattered
Allen Cross was an arrogant, coattail-riding asshole The world would be a better place without his kind of filth, and Marcus was determined that the task would be completed this day
Marcus attached the silencer and tucked the gun into the waist of his slacks Drawing the Armani suit coat closed, he left the confines of his car and instructed his driver to wait He walked at an unhurried pace toward the entrance of the high-rise that housed Cross Enterprises Around hi of dusk, and headlights fro the alleyways
The streets werebarren of the weekday horde of eularity He paused a short distance frouard that uy and, like uys, had a et from payday to payday
After tonight, the guard wouldn’t have the financial worries of others in his class Marcus had seen to that Right now, the guard would take a strategic break from his post, and at the sao down
Money bought s Loyalty Disloyalty A blind eye A moment’s distraction Fifteen minutes was all Marcus needed to rid the world of Allen Cross
Cross was a creature of habit He came into his offices every Saturday after seven and remained until nine PM, when his car service collected him and drove him to the same restaurant ten blocks away He liked the few hours of solitude to go over paperwork—but what he perhaps liked the most was the freedom to victimize a helpless woman with impunity
Marcus’s jaw tightened in fury Predictability killed a man As Cross was about to find out
Marcus rode the elevator to the twenty-first floor and stepped onto the cheap, fake Italiana faint echo as he walked through the empty reception area
The door to Cross’s office was ajar, and a faint light shone through the crack Marcus pushed at the door and let it slide soundlessly open Cross was behind his desk, kicked back in his chair, a glass of wine in one hand as he read a sheaf of papers with the other
Marcus watched, content to wait for his prey to become aware he was hunted
After a lass down and leaned forward He halted in aze locked on Marcus Cross’s eyes widened in alar over his lips
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my office?”
Marcus strolled forward, his expression purposely bland as he loosened his coat Cross rose, his hand inching toward the intercom on his desk
“Get out or I’ll summon security”
Marcus smiled “I think you’ll find him unavailable”
A flicker of unease skittered across Cross’s face when Marcus continued to s the slide of the stock over his palm He thumbed the safety, and leveled the barrel at Cross’s chest
“Would you prefer to die sitting or standing?”
Cross blanched, and he staggered, his hands slapping the polished any of his executive desk “What do you want?” he asked hoarsely “Money? I have ”
A sneer twisted Marcus’s lips “You couldn’t afford my shoes”
His finger tightened on the trigger, and he watched the awareness in Cross’s eyes, the panicked realization that he was going to die