The cold blooded mafia

rter Reed’s nightclub, Octave. “After what i’ve done, going to the police would be as good as signing a death warrant. Carter Reed is my only hope.” The line to get into Octave wave wraps around the

the cut of Carter’s jawline, his eyes gleaming in the dark. his voice is as icy as his nickname: The Cold Killer. “Aj wasn’t mugged he was killed.” “How did he die?” His voice grows colder and quieter each time he asks. “You want to know how AJ died? With a bat. I saw the whole thing.” She press her forehead to her knees, and the smell of the blood on her pant nearly makes her gag. “Thank you for answering honestly.” Carter hits a switch on the end of the table, and the room floods with light. “No one knows how Aj died except his sister. i needed to make sure it was you.” “You don’t recognize me?” “It’s been a long time Janie.” Her face heats up remembering the last time she saw Carter face to face. She was 16. Carter was her brother’s bold, scary-smart best friend and her crush. one night Carter came over bruised from some fight he’d gotten into. He slept on their couch and... they ended up kissing, he was her first kiss. She clears her throat, and Carter leans forward like he knows exactly what she is thinking about. He pushes away from the couch and moves until he towers over her. Her body becomes painfully aware of how he has been sculpted into a deadly weapon. “Stand up.” “Please.” “What?” “Ask me nicely, would you please stand up? if it pleases you? i’m not one of your lackeys, you can’t order me around.” His brows lift delicately. It’s a reminder that less important people than her have died by disobeying him. “I need to make sure you’re not injured. Please” Reluctantly she stands up, ignoring the danger of Carter being so close. His eyes slide over her with intensity, categorizing each tears on her clothes, each spot of blood. “If you’re not hurt, then where did the blood on your clothes come from?” She opens her mouth to respond, but fear kee