“Trusted. Past tense. She hates me now. But I can be very… persuasive.” Love and hate were complete opposites; and yet they intersected so frequently, changing paths often until they collided and made one big mess as they became parallel and found peace within. With London, my path had never strayed, but hers had been tested again and again.
She walked over to her desk and sat. “I’ll inform Brice of the change in plan. I want you both in France. I have the copies of her father’s formula and she can start to work on the drug here once I have a laboratory set up. When I know she can do what we need, then I’ll decide whether she is valuable enough to keep.”
I listened, but remained impassive.
She typed on her keyboard, and with each tap of her long, slender fingers, she sealed her fate. “I’ll lift the security on her cell.”
Bitch. But exactly what I needed to know and one purpose for my visit. If I had attempted to use my fingerprint on London’s cell weeks ago, the place would’ve gone into lockdown and an alert would’ve been sent out. A test and one of the reasons I’d had to come to France first. But each piece was falling into place. “So mistrusting. I’ve been loyal my entire life.”
She failed to look up as she continued to type. “Yes. But women are a man’s weakness.”
Like my father. “And would you have sent someone to try to kill me if I failed your little test?”
“No, Kai. I’d have tortured the girl and made you watch. Then I’d have killed her. And you’d live the rest of your days with that image in your head.”
Evil was too tame of a word to call her. “I don’t have a weakness. You made certain of that.” I kept my voice even and neutral as I set in motion the final plan. “I’ll fly back this afternoon.”
“Are you going to visit with your sister before you leave? I’m sure she’d be pleased to see you.” I was doing a lot more than visiting. “I’ve allowed her some freedom and I think in a few years, perhaps she can be utilized again. Of course, the farmhands would have to make the final decision.”
I hid the swirling anger with a soft chuckle as I walked back toward her then kissed her cheek, my eyes briefly going to the screen of her computer. Almost there.
“Mother, you know I don’t give a shit about that traitorous bitch.” The words were laced with a sneer, but it was a lie. If she knew I cared even the slightest for my sister, it would be used against me. I made a point to never ask about my sister and never attempted to see her.
She tsked, but by the way her blue eyes sparkled, she was proud of my words. She hit Send on her email and closed the lid on her laptop. “I’ve removed the security on her cell and Brice is expecting you.”
That was all I needed.
It was done.
She reached over and put her slender hand on my arm. It was as if a shark latched onto me. My stomach curdled in disgust. In a slow, gentle caress, she ran her hand up to my shoulder and back down again. “And you’re right. I grow weary. I’m hard on you because I have to be. I want you to be prepared for anything.”
I was.
Emotionless.
Detached.
I’d slit the throats of men who had families. I’d destroyed lives. I’d been groomed to ruin and not care how I did it as long as the job was done.
But what Mother didn’t know or understand was you never stole or harmed the girl belonging to a cold ruthless killer.
Flecks of who they made me into had begun to chip away the day I’d met London, and what leached inside me was a slow acting poison. One that ate the numbness, brought in the light when all I’d seen was dark.
I leaned closer to her, my hand on the back of her neck as I whispered in her ear, “Maybe I am like my father. Because I’m a man who will do anything for the woman I want.” She tensed and the creases around her mouth accentuated as she frowned. “I wish I had more time to do this justice.”
I had my hand out of my pocket and the piano wire around her throat before she had the chance to take a final breath.
She looked like a fish out of water, flailing against me as she struggled to breathe. I held the wire tight, no mercy, no feeling toward what I was doing. Her fingernails ripped her own fragile skin as she tried to loosen the wire.
Her legs gave out.
Her wild, horrified eyes went dead.
Her body fell limp.
I dropped her to the floor and put the wire back in my pocket. Then I crouched down beside her lifeless body. “London is mine and you fucked with that. Vault is going to pay for what it’s done.”
Four Years, Seven Months Ago