“You’ve heard of him?”
“Heard of him?” His hand clenches the easy chair’s armrest so
tightly the fabric rips. “Oh, I’ve heard of him. And I’ve sworn he would pay
for the death of my precious phoenix.”
“He will. You have my word.”
“Is this a personal grudge or a contract hit?”
“Both.” He waits for an explanation, but I offer none.
“I will help you, but you must promise not to kill him, not
that you could.”
“I could, and I intend to.”
“NO!” He strikes the end table with his fist so hard it
flips over spilling his drink on the stone floor. “Death is too good, too
merciful, for one such as he. He must be made to suffer and pay for his sins.”
I smile. “That would be acceptable. What do you propose?”
“We strike him where it hurts the most.”
“And that is?”
“I don’t know, but I will find out. I will discover his
greatest pain, and salt the wound.”
“Look into his early life, his family. He would never talk
about them and always looked in pain at even the mention of them.”
“I will. Now, tell me what you need.”
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