Sunrise Malice: Chapter 32

“You sure about this?” Jean stares at me from behind the wheel of my BMW. We’re parked outside of a nice townhouse on a block close to the river. Million-dollar homes line the street, and big, leafy shade trees loom over the parked Jaguars and Aston Martins.

“How much was it again?”

“Six million. But that wasn’t even the largest.”

I nod to myself. “Still a whole lot.” I lean forward, squinting at the front door. “You know as well as I do what that kind of money can do to a person.”

“Still a big risk.”

“One I’m taking.” I check my gun to make sure it’s loaded before pushing open the door. “Wait here. I won’t be long.”

I walk up the front steps and knock on a freshly painted black door. It’s a little past eight at night, but I know the place isn’t empty. A light’s glowing in one of the downstairs windows. I hear steps approach and the door opens a crack. An older balding man stares out at me with a deep frown.

“Can I help you?”

“Bruce Sanders? My name’s Julien Moreau. I’m an associate of Dusan Petrovic.”

The man’s eyes widen at the names. He stares at me and his gaze flicks to the street behind me as though he expects a dozen goons to come storming in at my back. “What can I do for you, Mr. Moreau?”

“I’d like to have a conversation with you. If we can talk somewhere a little less visible?” I smile at him, trying to be as disarming as I can. The weight of my gun is a comfort pressed up against the small of my back.

Bruce lets me inside and steers me into a study right off the main hall. A woman’s voice echoes after us, but he tells her it’ll just be a second, he’s only speaking with a business associate very briefly. He shuts the door and turns the latch to lock it.

I look around. Old wooden furniture, books on the shelves, letters and papers scattered on a couch. He clearly likes to work from the coffee table.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, but my dealings with Petrovic are under control.” He walks over to a small bar cart and pours himself a drink. His hands are shaking as he does it. The rude bastard doesn’t offer me one.

I remain standing. “You know who I am.” I don’t make it a question. Bruce nods, staring at me, and takes a long drink. “That’s good. Then you won’t be surprised when I say that I know how much money you owe Petrovic.”

“I’m going to pay him.” Bruce drifts over to the couch. “I swear, I am. I don’t know why he sent you⁠—”

“He didn’t,” I say, interrupting him.

Bruce’s eyebrows raise as he slowly takes a seat.

I let the moment drag. He’s off balance and afraid, and that’s a good thing. I want him nervous and terrified of what I might do. Most normal people are terrified of men like me, and I’m guessing Bruce has even more first-hand knowledge of what it’s like to work with the crime families than most people do.

He’s a businessman. He owns a string of car dealerships on the edge of town, most of which make good money, but he ran into some financial difficulties in the last year or so. I don’t know the details—those weren’t in the ledger Jean decoded—but what I do know is Bruce took a very big sum of money from Dusan Petrovic, and now he’s deep in the fucking hole.

“I want to offer you a deal.” I cross my hands behind my back, close to my gun. I don’t know how desperate this man is, but I’m not taking any chances. He comes off like a normal asshole in way over his head, but who knows how far he might take it.

“What kind of deal?”

“You’re going to do a favor for me. In exchange, I’m going to make your debts go away.”

He pales and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I can’t, I mean, I’m paying⁠—”

“You still owe six million. You’ve made some payments, but they’ve been small and barely cover the interest Dusan’s charging. We both know if you keep stringing him along, sooner or later he’s going to get tired of pushing you, and he’s going to do something drastic. Like steal all your cars or maybe cut your throat.”

Bruce takes another long drink. “How can you help?”

“It’s very simple. All I need is for you to tell Dusan that you have the money and you want to pay him, but you need a meeting to discuss terms first. Invite him somewhere safe and comfortable, but somewhere out of the way. Somewhere private.”

Bruce nods slowly, staring at me. “And then?”

“And then you don’t ever worry about having to pay him back again.”

He leans back. I watch the gears turn. He’s considering, but he knows damn well that getting involved with me could be just as bad as getting involved with Petrovic.

And I don’t give a damn. I’m being kind right now, but if he doesn’t do what I’m telling him, I have other ways to convince him.

“Nothing illegal,” he says very softly. “I don’t want to be involved in a—in a—you know, in a⁠—”

“Murder?” My eyebrows raise. “You took millions of dollars from a gangster. I think you’re far beyond the pale already, Mr. Sanders.”

He stares at his drink before he throws the rest of it back. His teeth crunch down on ice. “I’ll do it,” he says, his voice trembling.

“Wonderful.” I give him my best smile. “And if you fuck me, I’ll come back, and I’ll kill your family. Was that your wife out there? Should I go introduce myself?” I turn and give him a good view of the gun.

“No!” He jumps to his feet. “No, please. They don’t know.”

I hold up a hand. “Okay, no need to panic. We’ll keep this between us for now.” I move closer to him, lowering my voice. “But if you fuck me, if you reach out to Dusan and tell him about this meeting, if you do anything that might compromise my plans, I will come here, and I will cut your wife’s throat. Do you hear me? She will die slowly.”

“I understand.” He’s sweating freely as he hurries to the door and unlocks it. “Please, you should go.”

“I’ll be in touch soon.”

I leave his house. I hear him whispering to his wife as I go, trying to reassure her that nothing’s wrong, but poor Bruce’s life just flipped on its head.