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Ty Hutchinson

Contract: Primo

Contract: Primo

USA Today Best Selling Author

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 638+ 5-Star Reviews

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She’s scrappy. She’s sharp. She’s seven. And now she’s seeking answers.

Pick up the riveting third book in the Sei thriller series. It’s unputdownable.

"Hutchinson has another great female protagonist in Sei & now her daughter Mui." ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — Reader Review

Series:  Sei Assassin Thriller #3


In the third installment, Mui has been trained by the notorious assassin, the Black Wolf.

Having lived her entire life in seclusion, she is eager to leave the mountain and explore the outside world. The Wolf forbids it, but his grip over Mui is loosening.

Read An Excerpt

When the CIA picked up the tab, dinner wasn’t just dinner. Kostas Demos, my handler at the agency, sat opposite me at the outdoor café. He was easy on the eyes with his broad shoulders, meaty arms, and chiseled jawline. His Greek blood blessed him with a nice olive complexion; thick, wavy hair; large, brown eyes; and lengthy eyelashes. I doubted any woman would have complained about having a meal with him—but our meal wasn’t a date.

Of course, I wasn’t particularly hungry when I sat down to my Greek salad, but the Mediterranean olives had the right amount of tart, the cherry tomatoes were sweet, and the block of feta was fresh with a perfect crumble. I had just finished the last few bites when the waiter arrived at our table with our main entrées.

He squeezed a fresh lemon over the grilled beef kabobs, causing them to sizzle on the cast iron platter. Each of the metal skewers had five meaty cubes separated by tomatoes, onions, and red and green bell peppers. There were six in all. We also had a bowl of couscous and a plate of anginares a la polita—artichoke hearts with potatoes drizzled in olive oil. The usual accompaniments, pita and hummus, were present as well.

“Go ahead, Sei. Don’t be shy,” Kostas said as he grabbed a skewer and placed it on his plate. “They use a filet cut at this restaurant. Soft as butter. I like to take a few pieces of meat, a little couscous, a healthy dose of tzatziki and roll it all up in a warm pita. Best thing ever,” he said as he did just that. 

I arrived in Nafplio, Greece, earlier in the day and had been instructed to meet him for dinner at a restaurant called Two Brothers. It was located on Staikopoulou Street—a pedestrians-only street during the evenings. The place wasn’t terribly large; there were four candlelit tables inside and six outside on the cobblestone pathway. The weather that night was mild, and the skies were clear.

He had requested that I dress, and I quote, “casual with sexy mixed in.” I wore a floral summer dress with sandals, had my shoulder-length, black hair braided in the back, and as usual, wore light makeup.

“This is fun. I might have to arrange these meetings more often,” he said with a dimpled smile before taking a bite of the rolled pita.

I had known Kostas for five years. We first met in Turkey when he was hired as a driver responsible for getting me safely out of the country. At the time, neither my employer nor I had any idea he worked for the CIA. I eventually figured it out during our drive. To make a long story short, we each had skills that could benefit one another, and thus, a working relationship was formed. 

It had been six months since I last met Kostas in person. As far as I was aware, he had spent most of that time running operations in Bulgaria and Greece. Turkey was off limits to him, since we’d departed the country on unfavorable terms.

“Dig in,” he said in between chews. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be working?”

“Can’t you multitask?”

I grabbed a skewer and placed it on the plate in front of me. “I realize you didn’t ask me to come all the way to Nafplio to try the kebabs, though now that I think of it, that is something you would do.” I used my fork to slide a piece of meat off the skewer.

He smiled back at me after wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Believe it or not, we do have a task tonight.”

“You keep looking over my shoulder,” I said as I cut the meat into a more manageable bite.

“How very astute of you. Sitting four tables over is a plump, middle-aged man with a beard. He has a lovely blonde as a dinner date.”

I forked the beef into my mouth and then removed my compact from my clutch and used the mirror to look behind me. The gentleman Kostas was referring to faced me, so I had a clear view of him. His date had long, straight, blonde hair, and that was all I could gather from my position.

“His name is Fareed Ahmadi, an Iranian who immigrated to the States fifteen years ago. He’s an engineer at Lockheed Martin and works in the division that oversees a program called MEADS—Medium Extended Air Defense System. He’s also selling that technology to his friends back in Iran.”

“Am I to think, from your instructions earlier in the day, that you asked me to dress this way so I could seduce him?”

“No, I asked you to dress this way for me.” Kostas popped one of the cubed meats into his mouth and chewed.

“I should have known.”

“On Fareed’s left wrist is a titanium wristband. Inside of it is a microchip containing the schematics for the system. The hand-off to his contact will take place in the next day or so, probably tonight.”

I closed my compact and tucked it back into my purse. “I’m a bit confused here. He doesn’t look very intimidating. Seems like a job you’re fully capable of handling yourself.”

Kostas leaned forward and lowered his voice. “True, but I’m always looking for ways to work with my favorite assassin. That, and I need the woman separated from him.”

“Oh, now I realize the brilliance of your plan. Your job is to seduce the woman while I grab the wristband.”

“Actually, she’s your responsibility.”

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