“I gave you the address of where Gia was at the bar because you promised you’d make me rich, Volkov,” Kerem’s voice, thick with desperate greed, filtered through the half-open office door. “I risked everything to give you Gianna’s whereabouts. I kept my end of the bargain. Now pay me what you owe me.”
My blood ran cold. The floor seemed to sway beneath my feet, and I had to lean against the wall to keep from falling. Kerem. The boy his uncle Malik had taken into his business to get him off the streets, the cheerful young man who helped me organize the shelves and whom I considered a friend… he had sold me out. He had sought me out to Sebastian to turn me in.
“I gave you enough money that night at the bar to get out of my sight, boy,” Sebastian’s voice echoed, icy, sharp as Manhattan ice.
