Within seconds, I was out of the hospital, in the back of my car, being driven to the warehouse where the only shooter I’d allowed to live waited.

Aurora could have died today. I didn’t care about the treaty. Let the streets run red with blood. What I did care about was Aurora. The very thought of anything happening to her filled me with something I wasn’t used to: despair.

The wrong bullet today, and she could have died. I shouldn’t care. I wasn’t the kind of man to fall for a woman. I used them. Aurora was different, though. I knew from the start she would be. I just didn’t realize how much.

At the warehouse, my driver put the car into park, and I was out of the vehicle before he got a chance to open the door for me.

Buttoning up my jacket, I entered the warehouse to see the man hung upside down. His personal effects had been displayed on the table for me to see.

Six of my finest soldiers stood there, keeping guard. I also spotted the spy Ivan used to keep an eye on his brigadiers. He’d been on my land for several months, and so far, he hadn’t caused me trouble, so I was more than happy for him to stay.

The wallet had been placed open and I saw his name was Ewan Smith. “Hello, Ewan,” I said.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re very vocal for a dead man,” I said.

I left the torture devices on the table. When it came to getting information out of people, I didn’t go for elaborate or dramatic. Plain old kitchen and garden tools worked just fine for me. A hammer or sledgehammer to crush bones. Knives for obvious work. Pliers for the fiddlier work. Plain old twine used to repair fences were great and cut through flesh with enough pressure. I even enjoyed shears.

I dragged the chair over to stare at the man.

Spit was an issue for me, so I kept a distance.

“Fuck you, man. I’m not going to talk. You can’t fucking make me. You’re a piece of shit.”

I’d turned the chair so I straddled the back. My chin rested on my hands as I watched him.

Patience.

When I didn’t talk, he went a little crazy, trying to pull himself away from the binds. The bastard was hung upside down.

“Let me go! You’re all going to be dead men. All of you.”

“Do you know Aurora Ivanov?” I asked.

He looked like he wanted to argue but finally answered. “She’s your wife.”

“Do you know the woman you shot at today?”

“Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“A problem,” he said.

“So you were aiming for the woman today.”

“I’m not the boss, mate. I was given orders. Today, after a redhead strolls out, the next person waiting for a car, we were to shoot. No questions asked. There was no other target. Aim to kill. That was all.”

This was odd. I tapped a finger on my thigh. “You’re a bounty hunter?”