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“Keith, one of his underlings," Cain whispered. "A particularly annoying one."
The footsteps came closer and Cain suddenly spun from the doorway, swinging a blade. I heard the sound of the knife hitting flesh, and then a low gurgle. Peeking around, I saw Cain holding a big oaf of a man in his arms, a knife sticking out of the guy’s throat.
"Hey, that's my move," I murmured petulantly.
He just winked at me again as he dragged the body into the bedroom across the hall.
"One down," I commented as he came out and closed the bedroom door behind him.
Cain nodded. We headed towards the other staircase, winding through the various bedrooms so it took three times as long as just walking down the hall. Three more men came down the opposite stairs and we made quick work of them, leaving them in the various bedrooms. Hope the owner didn't mind a little blood on his floorboards, because I didn't think even the best cleaning crew in the world could get it out of the real wood floors.
"It's a good color," Cain commented as I stared at the blood red puddle on the floor from the body he’d just dragged into one of the bedrooms.
"And this is why when I build a house, it’s going to have tile," I retorted.
"Your wish is my command," Cain said, typing something in the notes section of his phone. "Anything else?" he asked.
I gaped at him. "Are you taking notes right now about my housing plans?"
"No time like the present."
Just then, his father's voice again sounded from upstairs, further away this time, like he was yelling from the second floor. Every now and again I would hear the heavy beat of footsteps, but from what I heard, it didn't sound like he had a large contingent with him…at least inside the house.
We crept up the random set of stairs that let out right by the enormous butler's pantry.
"I hope you have a room like this on that little list of yours," I whispered, admiring the pretty oak shelves as we passed by.
Cain went to pull his phone out of his pocket, and I grabbed his wrist. "I was just joking. Focus," I hissed.
The corner of his mouth flipped up sexily. "Then stop distracting me with your wish list."
I shook my head, moving into the butler pantry closet as Cain continued down the hall. This was all part of the plan we had whispered to each other in the weapons room earlier. I wasn't sure how I felt about it—him going off without me. But since this was Cain’s father, he could take the lead.
I sure as hell would be taking the lead when it came to my own father.
After waiting a few minutes, I slipped out of my hiding place and tiptoed down the hall, going down the back hallway slowly until I’d finally made my way to the opposite end of the house, behind where Cain would hopefully have lured Alexander.
When I peeked into the large formal living room where Cain had set up shop, Alexander was standing in front of me, his back to where I was hiding, five of his henchmen spread out behind him.
Cain was seated on the couch. He was staring at his father…his expression bored.
"What a pleasant surprise," drawled Cain. "I was just telling Aurora how this place would be great for company.”
"I decided I was bored of our games," said Alexander, unbuttoning his suit coat.
I lunged forward and stabbed one of his men in the back before retreating to the doorway.
Alexander’s head shot around at the sound of the man dying, and his gaze snapped to mine. "It's a pleasure as always, Aurora," he purred.
I didn't have anything particularly catchy to say, so I gifted him with my middle finger. Hey, if it was good enough for my psychopath of a father, it was good enough for Alexander as well.
Alexander stalked further into the living room, closer to where Cain was still seated. The others looked uneasy as they stood there, their gazes moving from Alexander to Cain…to me. At least they were giving me a healthy look of fear. I hoped I had earned that by now.
"Well, you're here. What happens next?" Cain asked easily.
"You die is what happens next, son. Your mother? Really?" he said, and I heard the first tinge of emotion in his voice.
I raised my hand even though Alexander wasn’t looking. "Actually, that was me," I tossed out flippantly, not feeling even an ounce of guilt at the look of deranged rage that crossed Alexander's face as his attention turned back to me.
