My brother saunters into my office with his hands in the pockets of his slacks; an Ioannides trait. The same face, same color eyes, mannerisms, and cruel streaks but even as we are spitting images of one another, there are major differences.For one, we both have tattoos right up to our necks, but they differ in designs. Bastien wasn’t tormented like I was and he experienced true love once upon a time. Where I suffered trauma at a young age, he experienced it later in life.He pours us each a glass of whiskey, then gestures for me to join him over by the leather sofas.“So, what were you going to call me about?”I take the glass and shake my head. “Before you even ask that, why are you here? Is Sin City getting boring?”He chuckles, crossing one leg over the other knee. “On the contrary, business is booming. But my reason for visiting is to ask if you’re hoping to part with Alpha Kinnead’s sword.”“You want to place it at the auction?” I ask, and he nods. “Then, by all mean, take the
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