Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“She’s no slacker, this one. She’s a brain. The real deal. From what I understand, she can run circles around Thompson intellectually. I doubt he’s aware, or that he cares.” Code sighed. “From what I’m pulling from his phone and computer, he seems obsessed with her. He must have a thousand pictures of her. He’s got his men watching her every move.”
“She into him?” Master asked.
“As far as I can tell, she’s never met him. They were in the same vicinity only one time. She went to one of his casinos in New Orleans with her parents, but there was no exchange of phone numbers or any interaction that I could find,” Code said. “I hacked into the security cameras, and I didn’t see any interaction between them. That was three months ago. I think she’s entirely unaware of him.”
“Why does he want this particular woman, other than her looks?” Czar asked.
“Her family has money. They’re rolling in it. Mother invents shit, sells it to big companies and they invest the money the way their daughter tells them to do it. She’s smart, that girl. Knows her stuff. The money grows and grows. The mother keeps inventing. Keeps selling. Daughter keeps telling them where to invest. They’re pushing toward the billionaire range. They live simply. Drive inexpensive cars. Dress in normal clothes. Are hardworking. Parents only recently retired.”
“But Thompson found out.”
“Fucking lawyer, Charles Dobbs, father’s best friend, gambled a little too much and owed Thompson. My guess, Dobbs got the crap beat out of him and offered information to Thompson in exchange for his debt. He should have gone to his friend and asked for the money. Instead, he told Thompson all about his friends the Moores and the big nest egg they held for their daughter, Ambrielle,” Code continued. “It’s a guess, but I think it was Dobbs who talked the Moore family into going to New Orleans for their celebration so Thompson could look Ambrielle over as a possible wife. It’s speculation and reading a few text messages back and forth from Thompson’s and Dobbs’ phones.”
Steele sighed. “We knew Thompson was a pile of shit. We should have realized how low he’d stoop. He’s after this woman because we’re draining his personal accounts and he can’t run to Daddy to refill them.”
Code nodded. “He can’t replace his personal money with his business money anymore. His daddy isn’t happy with him. His partners aren’t happy with him, so he has to find another way. Ambrielle Moore is his big plan. Thompson’s in Napa with a full crew and four of his Ghost assassins right now. They’ve rented a large complex out in the middle of nowhere so Thompson can get away with whatever he wants to do. It’s got a chapel on it, right in the middle of a garden. He’s got a preacher on standby, the corrupt son of a bitch. The paperwork for Thompson and Moore to get married has mysteriously been put through.”
“Can you get rid of the paperwork?” Player asked.
Code shrugged. “Easily. But as soon as he realizes, he would just replace it. They have someone with skills. Not great skills, but skills.”
Preacher tapped the tabletop. “As long as the paperwork is intact, no one is going to look at the names, right? Can you put a cartoon character’s name where Thompson’s is? Maybe same with the woman’s?”
“That might draw his attention as well,” Code said. “It would mine.”
“Yeah, but you’re extraordinary,” Czar said, frowning. “Preacher might be onto something. Leave Ambrielle Moore on all the paperwork. Change just Thompson’s name. Can’t be a cartoon character. We can make up a name, but it would be our luck it would be a real person.” He looked around the table, his gaze resting thoughtfully on each of the members. “If something happens to the woman, we don’t want someone to come forward and say he was her husband and inherit her fortune.”
“Uh-oh,” Maestro said. “Everyone had better duck. Czar’s got his scary voodoo mask on. Don’t let him look at you.”
Czar remained silent, his piercing gaze continuing to sweep the table, settling on each member of Torpedo Ink.
“What the hell are you thinking, Czar?” Keys demanded. “You going to marry one of us off to this little fairy princess? She looks like you might be able to break her in half if you looked at her wrong. She doesn’t fit.”
Czar turned his scary soul-searching gaze on Keys. “I’ve always decided who fit with us, Keys.” His voice was very soft. When Czar’s voice was that low, no one argued with him, particularly when he was bringing someone in with them, or passing on someone. He’d been the one to decide when they were children, and he’d always been right.
They’d started out together, children of murdered parents, ripped from their families and taken to a “school” to be trained as assets for their country. Truthfully, no one expected them to survive the brutality at the hands of criminals and pedophiles. Two hundred eighty-nine children had been taken to the school; only nineteen survived—thanks to Czar.