“You know that I was Mateo’s friend first, right? He and Gio could be tied together by blood, but they didn’t even like each other untilIpushed them together. It was me.Idid that. It was mine and Mateo’s idea to take over the business, to change it, make it our own. But Giovanni justhadto get in the way, didn’t he?” Lucas groans, shaking his head again. I gulp, trying to find some words, but they don’t come to me. He continues talking. “The plan was so perfect. Gio was going to take that flight, Marcus would fly it, crash it and he’d be gone. But he had to send Sara alone. That wasn’t going to stop me. I managed to think of a second plan. Mateo was too smart. He'd figure it out too easily, so I had to eliminate him first. I'd secretly insert myself into the business, plant Tinzin within the imports, tie people to it without knowing and I'd pin it all on him. It was going to work. I could see it happening,tesoro.”
His eyes gleam with pure mischief. He just confessed a crime to me. Multiple. Why is he telling me this? I hold onto the cart tighter, needing stability. The disgusting look on his face makes my stomach turn. I force myself to swallow the bile in my throat, feeling the liquid go straight down to my stomach.
“Thenyouhad to get involved and it became too easy. He was working on finding out what happened, and you were asking too many questions. He was too sensitive. Too protective, so he didn’t tell the whole truth. His trip to the restaurant colliding with your stakeout was pure coincidence, I'll give him that. He was making it almost too easy. Gerard and I went way back, and he was the one to reach out to Gio. He talked him into taking up butchery and it was only a matter of time until your young, naive brain would see him slicing some meat and it would turn your thoughts rabid. We thought you would figure it was him, report him and he’d go down. Then some idiot had to hit him with his car, making his death and the story too easy to clean up, not the way I wanted.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, my voice wavering, sounding completely foreign to me. I have to be stronger. Braver. He stalks closer to me, only a few feet away now as I back further up, aimlessly reaching for something to defend myself.
“Because your boyfriend was getting too close. He was starting to figure me out and the only way I can blackmail him into staying quiet is if you’re gone and he thinks he’s next.”
I swallow, my chin wobbling. Evan wouldn’t lie to me again. He wouldn’t. “You’re lying. He said he dropped it,” I argue.
“Sure, he might have dropped it, but it doesn’t mean his family has. They’re a smart bunch, the Branson’s. Too smart for their own good. But I'm smarter. I know the second his dad thinks I’m the villain, he’ll tell his love-sick son and he’ll come rushing here. I'm giving him five minutes before he bursts down the door.”
He glances towards the door, but the curtains are still drawn shut, blocking out any passers-by. Do they not have any cameras in here?
“What are you going to do to me?”
He chuckles lightly, sounding like pure and utter evil. “Oh, nothing yet. I want him to watch me kill you. It’s the only way he’ll take it seriously.”
I don’t let myself flinch at the threat.Be strong, Scarlett. You have to.Youneedto.“What are you getting out of this? You wanted Gio gone and now he is. What is killing me going to do?”
“Ah, I forgot to mention that your dad is going to be gone too. Meaning, I’ll probably have a few more weeks to resurface, play the whole ‘I survived a plane crash’ charade and the world will be at my fingertips. No one will be running Voss anymore with Mateo gone and you and your meddling boyfriend’s family out of the way. They’ll be feeling sorry for me, practically begging me to take over.”
He’s a narcissist. I can deal with that. I can manipulate that. I must be able to or else I won’t make it out of here alive. Ineedto make it out of here alive. There are so many things waiting for me on the other side of this door. So many wonderful things that I’ve just grasped, and I can’t afford to let them slip through my fingers. Not again.
“How are you so sure they’ll want you to take over?” I ask, playing into the idea.
“Why wouldn’t they?” he says triumphantly.
Once I get him talking, I start to tune him out. I need a plan. I need an escape from him. If he’s not bluffing, he really could kill me. If Evan is really on his way, I would never forgive myself for having him traumatised again for watching someone die. I couldn’t do that to him.
That's when I saw it.
I've seen my dad’s hand twitch before. He's done it countless times, but the nurses always say it’s reflexes. But this time, his whole hand lifts from the bed and happy, angry, and confused tears start to spring to my eyes. Lucas probably thinks I’m backing down, that I’m terrified but the thought of my dad waking up has given me the push I need.
I try to keep my eyes on Lucas even though just looking at him disgusts me and starts to make me a little dizzy. As he rambles on, I subtly flick my gaze to my dad as his eyes are now open. He’s awake. He’s back. He’shere.
I'm suddenly grateful that I was an annoying child who begged my brothers to teach me everything. I begged them to teach me how to play soccer, how to change a tire, and how to complete basic first aid. I asked them for anything to give me a head start in the real world. Including sign language.
I ask more fabricated questions to Lucas about his ridiculous plan to kill me, frighten Evan into keeping quiet and taking over the company. He’s so invested in what he’s saying he doesn’t even notice the beeping increasing on my dad’s machine as his heartbeat picks up. My dad lifts his hands up, signing three simple words:keep him talking.
So, I do. But as he continues talking, I slowly try to move towards the door, angling Lucas away from my dad’s bed so he can’t see him. He tracks my movements, watching me try and get away from him.
“Where are you going?” he asks, squinting at me as he taps the gun against his thigh. I flick my eyes towards it and then back up at him before saying probably the most stupid thing I’ve ever said in my life.
“Just shoot me.”
“What?” He blinks at me.
“You heard me. If you're going to do it, you might as well do it now,” I say. Jesus. I don’t even know what I'm saying. If this guy is as stupid as he sounds, he won’t aim for any vital organs and I'm in a hospital for god's sake.
“I'm doing this on my terms. I want your boyfriend to see,” he growls.
“For the thousandth time, he’s not my boyfriend,” I groan. I’ve been pivoting so long; he hasn’t caught up on the fact that I’m now next to the table at the end of my dad’s bed. I might be about to get shot right now, but I don’t want to die with people knowing me as Evan Branson’s girlfriend.
Lucas tilts his head curiously. “No? Then what is he?” Now he wants to chit chat. Perfect.
“Behind you,” I say quickly, and he takes the bait, giving me enough time to whack the gun out of his hand and it slides under the bed. When he turns back to me, realising he fell for my stupid trick, he doesn’t notice the lamp I picked up before I hit it as hard as I can against his head and watch his body fall to the ground.
