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ADRIK
I stare into her bright green eyes even as I feel blood spread along my ribs.
Her fire is admirable. But it’s also a nuisance. And it’s long past time for me to douse the flames for good.
That’s what I thought I was doing this morning, actually. Taking Isabella out for the day was supposed to be a reminder to Emery of exactly what I’m capable of.
Of course, Isabella is a child. An innocent, if ever there was such a thing. I wasn’t going to lock her up and throw away the key. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to hurt her.
I was going to do what I warned Emery a long time ago I’d do: give her every single thing she’d ever wished for, then rip them away. One by one by one.
Just to show her that I can.
I reach down and yank the mail opener out of my side. It isn’t lethal; the blade isn’t long enough for that. Plus, she stabbed me just above my hip. Nothing vital in range.
I set the blade back on the table. Dark blood smears across the wooden top. Emery’s eyes widen.
“Next time you stab me,” I say, towering over her, “I advise you to go for the throat.”
Her mouth hangs open in disbelief. Like I’m the monster in the horror film who rises from the dead, just when you thought you’ve finally won.
Her eyes are as innocent as her daughter’s. Such a fragile little kiska.
She thinks she is tough, but she is porcelain in a world filled with evil men swinging hammers.
I turn my head to the side and yell, “Rurik!”
Emery flinches, but otherwise doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. The only sound is my voice echoing off the walls.
I’ve set aside my suspicions of her for now. Yasha called me while I was out to report back on his findings.
“Clean,” he told me. “She’s spotless. There are a few texts with the senator, but nothing incriminating. If the two of them are in cahoots together, they’re being very lowkey about it.”
“Cahoots?” I’d asked. “The fuck are you, a 1950s private eye? Seen any mouthy dames lately?”
“Fuck you,” Yasha had laughed. “I did my job. Call if you need anything else.”
Looking into her face now, I still see no signs of betrayal. Maybe they’re in there, maybe they’re not. In the end, it won’t make a difference.
Rurik arrives from his security post. “Yes, boss?” he asks cautiously.
I step away from Emery. She stays plastered to the wall.
“Take Emery up to her room. Lock the doors."
She gasps. "You wouldn't."
"I absolutely fucking would."
Rurik is standing over my shoulder. He's a young kid, but eager. “This way, ma’am,” he says. His tone is respectful, but he’s big enough that she must know she doesn’t have much of a choice here.
She doesn’t move, though.
I sigh. “Do what you must to get her where she belongs. Just don’t leave any visible marks.”
Rurik nods solemnly. He gets it, even if she still looks confused.
Then he bends down, grabs Emery, and tosses her over his shoulder. She screams and flails, finally finding her voice, but he doesn't falter.
Just as they're rounding the stairs, I hear Emery call out for me. “Adrik! Adrik, please!”
She sounds desperate. Scared.
But the time for begging is over.
* * *
