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The sight of it sent a thrill through me that made my heart pound almost as loudly as it had that terrible day.
Except now, it was filled with the excitement of finally being able to exact my revenge.
Saul had been the man responsible for my nana’s death, and he was about to pay for it with his life.
I patiently waited until he would have entered and been seated, then made my way quietly down the stairs, the sounds of a lively and fully staffed kitchen growing louder. Moving stealthily past it, I peered around the corner from the back hallway, looking for him.
Satisfaction filled me at the sight of him, dressed in a tuxedo. As always, Harrison sat next to him, ever the obedient son.
Saul’s mini alligator—bred specially to be a smell pet—was in his lap, his mouth tied shut with a custom leather and buckled strap to keep him from biting Saul.
He was stroking the poor, chained thing, his attention divided between the food on his plate and the woman at his side.
She was young and petite, with dark olive skin and long black hair.
They sat next to the wall of windows, and you could barely see the dark billowing ocean beyond, with the sky full of bright stars. Lanterns flickered in the background and a man with a violin played at their table, the mournful sounds from it beckoning me close.
I could taste my revenge on my tongue, almost metallic, like blood.
The woman laughed, placing a hand on his arm and scooting closer, but I could see from the stiffness of her shoulders that she was faking it.
Probably scared for her life, or of someone she loved. Though you never knew.
Most people, as Garrett proved, fell for the pretty facade of the Veritas, only to discover the truth too late.
I ran all the scenarios in my mind, having prepared for every possible one. I could simply walk in and shoot him, but that created too many witnesses—innocent loose ends. Plus, although I couldn’t see them, his security was likely close by. The bathroom was an option, if he went.
He might keep the mistress here overnight, but waiting could mean I might lose my opportunity if he left.
Poison was the quietest, although it might involve members of the staff. Making the decision, I took a step backwards and into the darkness when suddenly, I felt a sharp point at my neck. "Hello, Rook."
I froze.
It had been a long time since anyone had snuck up on me.
I recognized the voice belonging to Maxon Moreau, Saul's sentinel, or head of security.
"Maxon.”
"I thought you might be here tonight."
“Ho—” I bit down on my tongue, my mind racing.
"Your sudden donation to the Magnolia caught my interest,” he answered me anyway, “and I knew your little spy wouldn’t hold back.”
So I was right. The information from Scarlett was planted—to reveal my intent.
I was fucked. Now they knew I was after Saul.
Maxon was going to kill me.
Thinking quickly, I took a chance. "I've been watching you, as well," I nodded towards the gun I now had pointed at him. “You hate the Veritas. You're dying to escape it."
"How would you know that?" he growled as he shoved me against the wall, the knife still against my throat. He peered down at me through his glasses, a sneer on his face. “You think you know my weakness? You, just the poor little orphan boy who never fit in. Always on the outside, looking in. Isn’t that right?”
His words hit me in the chest, gutting me, but I put up my wall, mentally blocking the emotion out. I was tall, but he was taller—even so, I met his gaze with determination. “I can do something for you. Help you get out.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was dangerously low, and it made my pulse quicken.
