Trent took some solace in the fact that at least the hotel manager was doing his job and reporting into him, but that still did nothing to subdue his anger or reduce his blood pressure to a healthier level. If anything, it actually made matters worse, because he knew exactly where Adrian was now, but still wasn’t able to do anything about it. He needed someone professional to go after him.
Send a snake to catch a snake.
Just then, the door opened and Trent happened to look up as a woman walked in, looked around the place casually before setting off across the room.
She was exceptionally beautiful, and emitted an aura of confidence in her leggy stride. She had long, dark hair, and an olive complexion. As she passed by the tables, every man in the restaurant stopped and stared — even those sat with other women. Her tight jeans were tucked into brown knee-high boots, and the cropped tank top she wore revealed more than it covered. As she approached Trent’s table, one of his bodyguards stepped forward to meet her. He was a tall, broad man wearing a suit and an earpiece.
“Hold up,” he said, holding his hand up to her. “This is a private table.”
She eyed the three men in turn, before directing her gaze at Trent. He looked her up and down.
“Help you, sweetheart?” he said, leaning to the side slightly to look past his bodyguard at the woman.
She smiled a strange kind of half-smile — almost a smirk — that made her look even more attractive. Her tanned skin gave her an Eastern look and the more he stared, the more Trent’s guard dropped. He was smart enough to acknowledge it was a very clever tactic, but he wouldn’t allow himself to fall victim to it.
“If your boys here let me sit with you, I think you’ll be very interested in how I can help you,” she replied.
The guard in front of her turned to Trent for instruction, who simply nodded, and he stepped to one side to let her through. As she strode past him, she ran her hand slowly down his chest, causing him to stare straight ahead and take a deep breath.
“Thanks, big boy,” she whispered with a smile.
She slid into the chair opposite Trent, sitting side-on to the table so he could see her crossing her long, toned legs slowly. She rested her elbow on the table and leant her chin on the back of her hand.
“So,” said Trent. “How can you help me?”
She remained silent for a moment, and then said, “I hear you’re looking for a professional to dispose of someone.”
Trent let out an involuntary laugh before composing himself. “Sweetheart, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m after an assassin, not a hooker. I might have a job for you in one of my clubs though…”
She smiled at him, but this time there was no humor or flirtation.
“As I’m essentially here looking for work, I’m going to let that one slide,” she replied. “But if you insult me again, I’m gonna slit your throat open, then reach inside and pull your balls out. We clear?”
Trent raised an eyebrow and regarded her for a moment. He liked her attitude. Maybe he’d jumped the gun a little with his first impression…
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Dominique.”
“Okay, Dominique. How did you know where to find me?”
“I’m very good at my job,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Okay,” he said after a moment. “You’re hired. Your target is staying in the Hilton not far from here. I want him dead. And his friend. Leave me your details and I’ll wire one point five million dollars to your account, up front. Just get it done.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the target?” she asked.
Trent shook his head impatiently. “It shouldn’t matter who the target is, just kill them. I’ve told you where they are, so go and do the job you came here to apply for before I change my mind and have you removed from my table.”
She rolled her eyes and was about to say something, but Trent cut her off.
“And just because you waltz in here with your sexy strut and your attitude, don’t think that counts for anything. You can make all the idle threats toward me that you want, but make no mistake, sweetheart — I’m the worst kind of bad guy, and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish and string you up with your insides. Do not fuck with me.”
Dominique paused for a moment, and then simply nodded. “Consider it done,” she said, before standing walking off past the bodyguards. As she did, the one who stopped her when she first arrived smiled at her menacingly.
“How’s about me and you have some fun later?” he said with a wink.
She stopped in her tracks and looked at him over her shoulder. She thought for a minute, then smiled and walked back toward him. She stopped in front of him. They were almost the same height because of the heels on her boots. She placed her hand on his chest and slowly moved it down, tugging lightly on his belt before resting on his crotch. She moved her hand up and down slowly.
“You mean… this kind of fun?” she said, playfully.
He smiled and nodded.
Then, in a flash, her smile faded and she grabbed him hard, squeezing her hand tightly. He gasped loudly, his eyes going wide in pain as she twisted her hand slightly, applying more pressure to his most sensitive area. Some people turned to stare for a moment, but hastily looked away again when they saw it was at Wilson Trent’s table.
“You men are all the same,” she said, looking at Trent, who was watching with bemusement. “If I were you… any of you… I’d think twice before fucking with me!”
She let go of the guard, who immediately bent over in pain. As he did, she brought her knee up and smashed it into his face. He grunted at the impact then slumped forward to the floor, unconscious.
She smiled at Trent and winked at him before turning and walking off, looking as confident as before, through the restaurant and out the front door.
The remaining bodyguards looked at Trent, who simply shrugged and smiled.
“I like her,” he said.
21
We decided to ignore the unexpected link to Wilson Trent. We left King’s body for his people to find, fulfilling the terms of our contract and sending a clear message on Manhattan’s behalf.
It’s late afternoon and the first drops of rain have begun to fall as we head back to Pittsburgh. I’m staring out the window while Josh drives, my mind rushing in a million different directions simultaneously. The morale boost was short-lived, and we’re back where we started — us versus Trent, with us on the back foot.
What is it with Wilson fucking Trent anyway? Everything we do seems to lead back to him. I know his empire is far-reaching, but I had no idea he’s so embedded in everyone’s lives and interests. Even Manhattan’s found himself on Trent’s radar now, thanks to our efforts a few hours ago.
Not that I’ve told him yet…
I need to get to Trent before he gets to me. I can’t afford to let myself go on the defensive — I have to attack. Get my retaliation in first, so to speak.
Josh glances at me with a brief look of concern, as if deciding to try to distract me from my thoughts.
“So, do you wanna break the news to Jimmy, or shall I?” he asks.
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll call him later and tell him,” I reply, distantly.
I drift off, my eyes locked on something far enough in the distance that they lose focus and the need to blink. The world flashes in front of me in an anonymous blur as I stare at absolutely nothing. Occasionally, a drop of rain will draw my focus as it slashes across the window, bringing me back to the here and now, but I quickly zone out again.