Again, no.
There was no way he would let her live. His father taught him better than that.
You always cleaned up loose ends.
ALWAYS.
When he took her eyes, she was still awake and alive, and that had to be so damn painful.
What his father also taught him long ago was that if you took away people’s senses, it made them panic. By stealing her eyes, she couldn’t see where he was, or what he was going to do.
They were first, and as he added them to his jar of fun from his bag, he admired them sinking to the bottom.
The pretty brown orbs would come into play later because he wasn’t finished with Elizabeth.
Not.
Even.
Close.
Now, he had a way to break one more of her bodyguards and take the woman to her knees, too. There was no way she wouldn’t blame herself and feel like eating her own gun.
If she did, she did.
That wasn’t his problem.
It would just mean he’d won regardless.
The bottom line was his life was pretty much over in the world. He’d never have a normal life, but at least he’d taken out someone his father had wanted to see decimated.
He was a good son.
No.
He was the best son. He couldn’t wait to go to his father’s grave, sit there, and tell him all about it. All he’d ever wanted was to make the man proud of him.
He wasn’t easy to please.
But this…
Oh, this would make him weep with so much joy.
As he set the scene, he made sure to force the woman to leave one last message in a voicemail on her phone.
That would be the icing on his cupcake.
It would also be what broke Elizabeth.
Trust and believe.
Oh, her playing this game against him was futile. He’d had years to perfect his evil, and she would never be able to stoop to that level of depravity.
Not.
A.
Chance.
