Chapter 167

"THEY'RE PLANNING A PARTY," the voice whispered through the line.

"Perfect," Hassan replied.

He jotted down notes as his source recounted the details of the party, the dinner, and the guests. The next few hours were crucial to his plan. Things had to be done, put into place. Hassan had made a wise choice in approaching the hotel's head chef. The man was a resourceful fellow. Far more in tune with what was going on with the guests than anyone else who'd taken Hassan's money.

Those fucking Smiths.

They thought they could sell his merchandise out from under him? He'd show them.

"I expect payment." The chef's tone was sharp.

"I'll leave it in your apron pocket. Tomorrow night." Hassan flipped through his little brown book, searching for the contact he needed.

"Double."

"Fine."

Of course the pompous asshole would want more. They all did.

Whatever it took to get the chef off the phone. Hassan didn't care.