“I believe I gave you too much credit,” Uilleam said when he had the phone to his ear. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this soon.”
There was silence, then, “Well, you couldn’t have thought I would ignore your blatant disregard for proper business, could you? Truthfully, Uilleam—you don’t mind terribly if I call you Uilleam, do you?” the man asked, his tone dripping with condescension—the sound of it making the urge to do murder rise in Uilleam. “As I was saying, you’re not nearly as interesting as you presume yourself to be. But now that you have my attention, I thought it time we met, wouldn’t you?”
That was exactly what Uilleam wanted.
How long had he waited now just to learn the man’s name, and even then, it had taken one of his mercenaries to find that out. But once he had it, there was much that could be done with a name.
Elias was good at covering his tracks, only allowing few deals to be linked to him, but those Uilleam had found, he had made it a point to get the other man’s attention.
And once he grew tired of playing, Uilleam was going to have him killed viciously.
“Give me a time and a place.”
No matter what answer Elias threw out, Uilleam would agree. There wasn’t really a question as to his safety—he had a number of mercenaries on call.
“The Royal Eve at seven-fifteen tomorrow evening. I’ll have someone find you.”
He ended the call before Uilleam could get another word in, and had he not passed the phone off the second he heard the trio of beeps in his ear, he would have launched the fucking thing across the room.
Control, he had to remind himself.
It was all about control.
And with the progress he’d made, he couldn’t afford to lose it now.
He knew why that particular restaurant had been chosen. It was where he had gone with Karina during his attempt to glean information from her in regard to an investigation she was launching into one of his clients.
It seemed only fitting that his thoughts of her had also resulted in him venturing back to a place that he had once shared her company.
Had he not remembered the way she loved the place, he might have burned the place to the ground just so he wouldn’t have to think about it being there that he had last seen her.
“Dominic, ready the jet. I have a stop to make before tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Right away, sir.”
Sand was sinking into his shoes with every step he took, the gritty feel of it a nuisance, but Uilleam didn’t complain. No, he was too focused on the man he had come to see.
Dealing with someone like him, Uilleam had to be prepared for whatever mood the man would be in.
Most of his mercenaries flocked to cities, disappearing within the crowds, and the one he had come to see was no different. If one didn’t know any better, they might have thought him like any other beach bum that spent their days in the water.
At least until they took in the sheer size of the man.
After his retirement, Uilleam hadn’t made it a point to call on the man for any favors, not needing his particular expertise—back when he was still under a contract and obligated him to follow orders.
Skorpion had never done well with following authority.
As Uilleam cleared the side of the rather large beach house, coming around to the front, he could just see the man he had come to talk to coming up the beach, a surfboard beneath his arm.
Even at a distance, the man looked like a threat. He was big and imposing, whether he wanted to be or not, and had Uilleam not gotten a few assurances beforehand, he might have worried how his unwelcome intrusion would make him react.
“Whatever it is,” Skorpion said the moment he was close, “the answer is no.”
“Are you always in such a welcoming mood?” Uilleam asked, standing his ground.
“For you? Yes. You weren’t my handler then—you sure as shit aren’t my handler now, so leave before I have a mind to do it myself.”
“I thought we made quite a team, you and I, all those years ago.”
“Yeah?” Skorpion stuck his board in the sand, walking over to a small booth that worked as an outdoor shower and turned it on. “That was then.”
It had been Skorpion that travelled with him—his personal security until the very end when he’d fallen in love with a Parisian girl, only to lose her soon after. Uilleam hadn’t known her, never cared to, but whatever hold she’d had over Skorpion had caused him to sever his contract and walk away.
“It’s only one meeting,” Uilleam said, wanting to clarify. “You’ll even be home in time for dinner.”
“Still not interested.”
Head cocked to the side, Uilleam asked, “Is it a matter of getting a babysitter on such short notice?”
The shower cut off then, the door creaking open as Skorpion came out from behind it, his mouth set in a grim line. He didn’t address the fact that Uilleam knew his secret—that shouldn’t have been a surprise considering who he was—nor did he threaten him should he ever share that information with anyone.
His presence in front of Uilleam was threat enough.