24. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Reginald Bellanca standing outside my door looking more tired than I've ever seen him before. Stone, his full-time bodyguard, stands beside him and they share quiet words as Reg rubs his brow. It takes a second or two for them to notice me. Reginald gives me a smile, but it's forced. The first thought that goes through my mind is they're here to kill me.

But that can't be right.

Not only because Reginald doesn't get his hands dirty anymore, but I have protection from him. If he goes back on his deal with Ezra, I don't know what would happen.

Actually, what would happen? Now that I think about it, maybe I've been getting a little too cocky with this protection shit. Bellancas aren't known for going back on their word, but what is stopping them? Ezra? He doesn't have anyone working for him or a big family to fight the Bellancas. If they fuck him over, that's it. There's nothing he can do about it.

Why am I only realizing this now?

Sev, that's why. Or should I start calling him Seva? What the hell kind of stupid name does this guy have? After the last letter, I find myself staring at the carvings more than ever trying to figure out what Seva is leading to, and I've had no luck. And because he sucks, I'm blaming my unclear head on him.

"Eventful evening?" Reginald asks, which only makes me more cautious. Is he trying to accuse me of something or is he actually wondering? He must sense my hesitation because he adds, "You've nothing to worry about, Justin. I just want to talk."

I nod carefully as I make my way to my door and unlock it. My nerves are on edge, and I wonder if Sev is watching this. Did he follow me home? If I were in trouble, would he step in like he did in Boston? Why am I wondering if the guy is going to save my ass? I don't need him to. I can handle myself. Always have, always will. It's always been like that.

I'm only coming back from dinner at Harry's Diner, but don't share that information with Reginald. Seems weird to say something so normal like that. I can't imagine him setting foot in a place like that. Not that he turns his nose up at people like me, but it's just his image.

Once we're all inside, I close the door but don't lock it.

"Have a seat," I say, gesturing to the living area to the left and also to the dining room/kitchen area on the right. Reginald chooses to sit on the couch in the living room. Stone stands in the back corner on the side of the couch, arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart like he's ready for battle. "Drink?" I ask. "I've got water or whiskey."

Reginald smirks. "No thank you. But please, get yourself comfortable before we chat."

Did he find out I was in Boston and know about the shit at the docks? Is he in on it? I knew I should have called him right away, but I was too pissed the night I found out. And when I got back, I figured talking to him in person made more sense. I was going to set up a meeting with him, I just kind of forgot. Until right now.

I grab a bottle of water, deciding I should keep my wits about me. I take it with me to sit in the armchair across from Reginald. It's hard and lumpy. I never sit here, so it's not broken in. Had I tried it out before I bought it, I wouldn't have bought it at all.

He gives a small smile, and says, "I know it's out of the ordinary for me to show up like this, and I apologize if I'm disturbing you." I shake my head, letting him know he's fine. "What I'm going to say will be between the three of us, and only the three of us. No one else will ever know about this regardless of what your answer is."

"Okay," I say carefully, glancing up at Stone who is staring toward my kitchen, still as a statue. I take a sip of water and wonder if I should have gone with the whiskey instead.

"I've been the head of my family since my father died at twenty-two. That's a long time for me to be around, and in that time I've learned a lot. Still learning today. But I like to think I've done a pretty swell job. And I'm not here to toot my own horn, but I want to let you know that I've thought about this long and hard. For weeks, actually. Months. This isn't something I decided on a whim. I've put a lot of consideration into how to handle this dilemma, and what I came up with, well… it's a bit unorthodox."

When he pauses for a few seconds, I say, "No offense, but you're starting to concern me."

He chuckles, scratching his chin. "I'm sorry, I just feel the need to explain myself before I jump into it. Just one more thing and I'll get to the point." He holds up a finger. "I'd gone through a bunch of candidates for this, but due to your history, connections, and expertise, I ultimately decided you were my best bet. There aren't many people in this world I truly trust, and I can't say I trust you one hundred percent because I don't know you that well. But I sure as hell trust you more than ninety percent of the other guys who work for me."

I'll take that as a compliment.

He holds my gaze and I want to tell him to get to the fucking point because the anticipation is killing me. Is he trying to see how much stress I can take? My pounding heart doesn't approve.

"Justin, I want to hire you to kill my son."

The words echo in my head for a long time before they finally hit me.

I blink. Then blink again. I hold his gaze, waiting for him to laugh or tell me he's joking, but he only stares at me, expressionless. I glance at Stone who is still not paying any attention, and back at Reginald.

I shift in the chair, clasping my hands together and resting them on my lap.

"You want me to kill Remington?" I ask slowly.

"Yes."

I clear my throat, knowing what I heard but not sure it was the right answer. "Why?"

He frowns. "Isn't it obvious? He's destroying everything I've built. He's making enemies left and right. He's going to start a war that will ruin everything."

I sigh heavily, running a hand over my face. "If I say no…"

"Then I'll move down my list, but obviously this can never get out. I chose you first because I trust that even if you decide this isn't for you, you'll not say anything."

He's right. I won't. I feel like even knowing this could get me killed. Hell, it may. If Remington finds out his father wants him dead and sniffs around to see who he met with, Remington could be added to the list of people who want to kill me.

"Of course I won't say anything. How much time do I have to decide? When would this need to be done? And how much are we talking?"

"I can give you a day to think it over. As soon as possible. And twenty million."

I whistle. "Twenty million?"

He nods. "I know this is dangerous and want the payment to be worth the job. Though my son is…" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Christ, I can't even think of how to put it. The way he is. He still has people loyal to him, so if anyone were to find out, there would be repercussions."

As with any job, really.

But I have an idea.

"Is the payment term negotiable?"

"Is twenty not enough? I—"

"No, sorry to cut you off like that, but I don't mean money. I, uh… I'm dealing with an issue I've been trying to handle but I'm not really getting anywhere. I even have Banks on it, but he's pretty tied up. I wasn't sure if maybe you'd be able to help me with it as part of the payment?"

Reginald gives me an understanding look, his body relaxing the slightest bit. I imagine he's happy to get off the topic of having his son murdered.

"Tell me what's going on."

I explain everything to him about my family, the letter, and the people trying to kill me. I leave out everything with Sev, of course, and instead make it seem like Xander is the one giving me info but refuses to look into it because he doesn't want to risk his job. A bit of guilt hits me when the man just told me he trusts me more than most of his men, but this isn't something that'll hurt him, so it shouldn't matter.

"That is fair and doable," Reginald adds when I'm done explaining. "I'll add it into the payment, and considering I may not be able to dig anything up for you, we will leave it at twenty."

"Thank you."

I've been focusing on this job to kill Sev for ten million, but now? I could get double that for killing someone I can't fucking stand. How perfect is this?

Reginald stands, buttoning his suit jacket.

"Stone will be here tomorrow evening." He checks his watch. "Ten o'clock. A simple yes or no will suffice." He raises a brow in question.

I get up and run a hand through my hair. "Yeah, okay. I'll think it over."

The opportunity has come and gone for me to tell him about Boston. Maybe he'll get a handle on it after Remington is dead. It won't be my problem anymore, since I'll be leaving, but I can't in good conscience let this go on. Good people could get hurt. Maybe I'll mention it to Stone when he comes here tomorrow.

I lock my door once they leave and grab the bottle of whiskey, taking two gulps. It burns as it goes down, but damn do I need it.

If I kill Remington, I won't have to worry about Sev anymore. I will be done with this game and his crazy ass. It'll be over. All of it.

This is a blessing in disguise that was just dropped into my lap, so why do I have a sour feeling in my gut?