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Sharks

The King & Slater Series Book Six

Matt Rogers

Copyright © 2020 by Matt Rogers

All rights reserved.

Cover design by Onur Aksoy.

www.onegraphica.com

Contents

Reader’s Group

Facebook Page

Books by Matt Rogers

Preface

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Afterword

Afterword

Books by Matt Rogers

Reader’s Group

About the Author

Join the Reader’s Group and get a free 200-page book by Matt Rogers!

Sign up for a free copy of ‘BLOOD MONEY’.

Meet Ruby Nazarian, a government operative for a clandestine initiative known only as Lynx. She’s in Monaco to infiltrate the entourage of Aaron Wayne, a real estate tycoon on the precipice of dipping his hands into blood money. She charms her way aboard the magnate’s superyacht, but everyone seems suspicious of her, and as the party ebbs onward she prepares for war…

Maybe she’s paranoid.

Maybe not.

Just click here.

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Expect regular updates, cover reveals, giveaways, and more. I love interacting with fans. Feel free to send me a private message with any questions or comments. Looking forward to having you!

Books by Matt Rogers

THE JASON KING SERIES

Isolated (Book 1)

Imprisoned (Book 2)

Reloaded (Book 3)

Betrayed (Book 4)

Corrupted (Book 5)

Hunted (Book 6)

THE JASON KING FILES

Cartel (Book 1)

Warrior (Book 2)

Savages (Book 3)

THE WILL SLATER SERIES

Wolf (Book 1)

Lion (Book 2)

Bear (Book 3)

Lynx (Book 4)

Bull (Book 5)

Hawk (Book 6)

THE KING & SLATER SERIES

Weapons (Book 1)

Contracts (Book 2)

Ciphers (Book 3)

Outlaws (Book 4)

Ghosts (Book 5)

Sharks (Book 6)

LYNX SHORTS

Blood Money (Book 1)

BLACK FORCE SHORTS

The Victor (Book 1)

The Chimera (Book 2)

The Tribe (Book 3)

The Hidden (Book 4)

The Coast (Book 5)

The Storm (Book 6)

The Wicked (Book 7)

The King (Book 8)

The Joker (Book 9)

The Ruins (Book 10)

“The gambling known as business looks with austere disfavor upon the business known as gambling.”

Ambrose Bierce

Prologue

Freeport

The Bahamas

Teddy Barrow loved his job.

Loved the simplicity of it.

A timeless cliché, sure, but there’s a reason clichés exist. Something about the responsibility tickled his fancy. Here he was the right-hand-man to the owner, more than just a server. He mattered. If he didn’t dutifully wait the tables, spray and scrub all surfaces after each customer departed, keep tabs on the change going into the register, converse with regulars and tourists alike, listen to any and all complaints, then word-of-mouth would cease and the place would fall into decline.

The establishment itself was a large hut, Polynesian in design, with tiki décor to complement the white sand all around. It doubled as both an eatery and a bar. There was good coffee, good food, and good cocktails — the Holy Trinity to vacationers looking for escapism. There were views of Coral Beach and the pristine waters beyond, always sparkling turquoise under the sun.

There was always sun.

Teddy was British — he figured the novelty of the accent had helped him land the job in the first place — but the never-ending golden rays had bronzed his previously pale skin long ago. The wrinkles that came with old age had deepened after incessant sun exposure, but that was a price he was willing to pay.

He loved the Bahamas. He’d met his wife here, considered it home for years, and he didn’t think he’d ever leave. Looking out at the waves lapping the shore as he scrubbed down a tabletop overlooking the beach, he realised his mind was empty. He was fully present.

Thinking nothing, feeling nothing.

It was bliss.

Bliss had been absent in Grand Bahama for quite some time. Last September, Hurricane Dorian covered three-quarters of the island in floodwaters, with winds topping a hundred and eighty-five miles per hour. Freeport, home to most of the tourism infrastructure, was spared the catastrophic destruction that ravaged the east and north, but the airport took significant damage, and access to fresh water and electricity had been temporarily disrupted. Since the start of the year, the city had taken huge leaps forward. Critical business reopened, the airport came back to life, and Teddy had watched as fellow locals accepted the personal and economic toll with the Bahamian spirit that made them the tough and independent people they were. He himself had gone back to work at the tiki hut as the cruise ships and international flights returned to an island rapidly rebuilding out of the rubble.

Beaches were populated once more, customers were aplenty, and for a brief period he was happy.

He knew his happiness wouldn’t last. He loved most of the Bahamas, but not all of it.

A small hidden nook of the archipelago threatened to ruin his life.

The customer on the next table beckoned. Teddy nodded his understanding and finished his clean with a sweep of the cloth. He’d mastered the art of the wipe down. He took great pride in the small details, most of which no one even noticed. But he did, and that’s what mattered. There’s nothing like the satisfaction of a task completed to the best of your abilities. A long and full life had taught him that.

He approached. The customer was practically a caricature of a sixty-something Brit travelling abroad. Everything from the bespectacled eyes, the pencil moustache, the pasty skin, the rotund belly. It had thrilled him when he was served by a fellow countryman, which Teddy found odd, considering the man could get that experience anywhere back home.

The guy said, ‘You take good care of this place.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Ah,’ the guy scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Leave it, mate. Loosen up a little. Look where we are. You can talk to me like a friend.’

Teddy smiled. ‘Just doing my part to make your meal as pleasant as possible.

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