My brow wrinkles in thought.
“So, who is Fabian?”
Chapter Thirty-Four Magnus
“That’s jumping slightly ahead, but I’ll tell you. Fabian was my trusted assistant. He knew more about me and my actions than anyone. More importantly, he was loyal…to a fault as it turns out.
He was on a mission to discover the location of one of the men involved in the laundering scheme. Thomas Schroder, a name on the list of people I plan on brining down—or in this case, handing off to the son of the owner of the bank my father worked at, Luca Wolff. He’ll seek out his own revenge. Thomas has been hiding out in Brazil as it turns out.
“Unfortunately, Gabriel discovered what he was up to. Fabian died protecting my secrets, considering the evidence of torture on his body when he was found.”
I take a sip of my brandy to calm the fire roaring in my head.
Sloane brings her hand up to take a sip, and I watch it tremble. “Do you know who killed him?”
“Yes.”
She correctly interprets the intent behind my gaze. “Jan Vorster.”
Again, I nod. “He has a particular methodology for getting information. That’s how I know it was him.”
I’m surprised to see the fire that instantly comes to her eyes. I thought the name alone, now colored with the revelation of his exploits, would cause her to tremble even more. But her hand is steady as she brings her glass up to take a sip, eyeing me over the rim.
“So why doesn’t Gabriel just have you killed as well instead of using me to get to you?”
“I have no doubt that, given time, he will have me killed. Or at least try. But I know him well enough to understand how much it would mean to him to witness my humiliation, especially in terms of business. He’s been the victim of a few of my schemes, and he wants an eye for an eye. In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s a sucker for biblical themes. If he can thwart my big plans before I can complete them, it would make the final kill that much more enjoyable for him.”
“It seems you two have a lot in common.”
She doesn’t say it in a judgmental way, which adds another level to my appreciation for her.
“So, what are you going to do about Gabriel?” She asks.
I consider her for a moment. The fact that she’s posed the question, especially with the look in her eyes, tells me that my instinct was right, she’s not all that different from me after all.
“What would you advise, counselor?”
Sloane smiles. It slowly fades, and she looks off to the side.
“Don’t.”
Her eyes flash back up to me.
“Don’t back down now, Sloane.”
“I’m not a murderer.”
“Neither am I.”
Her eyes narrow to indicate a sardonic difference of opinion on the matter.
“I’m an exacter of justice.”
“Monte Carlo’s very own Batman.”
“If you knew what Jan had planned for you when this is all over, you might not be so blithe about the matter.” I swirl my drink around. “Jan is the one who handles Gabriel’s dirty work. That includes getting rid of extraneous, for lack of a better word, trash. Best case scenario, he keeps your brother on a short leash since he seems to have a particularly useful talent, using you and the rest of your family as the carrot on a stick to keep him in line.”
Even with how incensed she becomes, I can see her mind putting that thought into place and noting how well it fits with the rest of what she knows about this situation she finds herself in.
“Worst case scenario, you both end up like Linus Caldwell.”
“So what am I supposed to do? I can’t go back empty-handed.”
“You won’t have to. Instead, you’re going to help me kill him. Then you’ll both be safe.”
Sloane’s eyes go wide with shock.
“I’m not like you. I can’t just…” She lets the rest trail off.
“I wasn’t like me…until I had to be.”
“Had to or wanted to?”
“I was fortunate enough to be too young to do anything when my parents died. I had five years to swim beneath the surface, assuring the men responsible that I was ignorant as to what they’d done, as harmless as a guppy. But why live life as a guppy, when you can be a shark?”
I lean in closer, resting my elbows on my knees as I penetrate her with my gaze.
“You see, Sloane, guppies are nothing but fish food. Maybe they get snatched up to live a pathetic but safe life in a two-by-three fish tank. Maybe they stay in the ocean, just one in a school of hundreds of others like them. Or maybe they get eaten by one of any number of predators in the sea who will think nothing more of it than a small snack to tide them over. Even in death, they mean nothing.
“But a shark? Even those of us at the top of the food chain safely outside of the ocean tremble in fear at the mere thought of them. Wherever they go, they have an impact. No one makes movies about guppies, Sloane.”
“Better to be feared than loved,” she muses.
“The lady knows her Machiavelli, which is telling.”
“Perhaps the man shouldn’t read too much into that.”
“But we both know he was right. It is better to be feared than loved, at least when it comes to getting what you want.”
“And what will you do when this is all done? Speaking of which, when will you be done?”
I stare at her thoughtfully for a moment. “My original deadline was age thirty-five, the same age my mother was when she died. That’s what? Only six years older than you?”
Sloane’s gaze softens, and she nods.
“I have a little over a year left—and three men to deal with: Jan Vorster, Gabriel Fouché, and Richard Coleman. The latter, only if the Pirate fails at his job.”
Sloane’s eyes narrow in thought, counting up all three in her head. “Is that enough time?”
“Yes.”
She exhales a soft, wary
