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Henri stiffened. “Punish me?”
“You did me a favour by ending Daxton and his snitching. And I forgive you for Roger. I never really liked him. With your violent skills, I feel comfortable that Joyero will be safe if and when I do leave on business—as long as you’re fighting on the right side.”
“Of course,” Henri muttered. “I apologise for my behaviour, and you know I’m on your side. I’ve proven that—”
“You have, and I appreciate it. I also appreciate this new skillset of yours. You see…I catalogue all my guest’s strengths and weaknesses, and you’ve turned out to be a gift that keeps on giving. If a time comes when I need your ruthless abilities, you better be prepared to aid me.”
“Aid you how?” His face filled with shadowy wariness.
“Kill.” Victor laughed. “What else? Did you think your money would ensure you didn’t have to work to stay here?” He clucked his tongue. “Silly boy.”
Henri didn’t say anything for a moment. “Who…who do you expect me to kill?”
“Well…” His eyes flickered to Rachel. “It’s not who but how many, but to start with…you could aid me in dispatching this one. I don’t really care how you do it. Just that it’s done.”
“Wait, what?” Henri staggered back. “You want me to kill your jewel? Have you lost your fucking mind? I thought she was your favourite.”
“She was. And I wish it didn’t have to come down to this, but she disappointed me and needs to be punished.”
Henri choked. “Punishment isn’t usually fucking murder, Vic.”
“The retaliation must match the level of rebellion.”
“What rebellion?”
Victor ran a hand through his hair. “She’s pregnant.”
My heart stopped.
A gush of sickness twisted my stomach.
Oh God.
No…
“What do you mean…she’s pregnant?” Henri went fatally still. His grey eyes landed on bruised, shaking Rachel. “H-How?”
“The usual way, I suspect.” Victor sniffed as if she was dirt on his shoe. “She did it deliberately, the little witch.” His face turned black. “Probably thought she could use me to elevate her position. Dr Belford assures me her contraception was up to date, so—”
“It’s not one hundred percent foolproof, you prick,” I hissed, unable to stop myself. “Are you that fucking diabolical that you’d kill your own child?”
Victor glowered at me. “It’s not mine.”
“You told me yourself that you don’t loan her out to just anyone anymore.” Henri wiped his mouth with his hand. “How long has it been since she was with anyone but you?”
Victor paused and actually did some math. Eventually, he said with a trace of annoyance, “Months.”
“And how far along is she?” Henri dropped his stare to Rachel’s sensuously curved belly. She didn’t look pregnant, but that didn’t mean—
“Six weeks or so.”
“So, it’s yours.” Henri crossed his arms. “She’s carrying your child.”
“And I don’t want it,” Victor snapped, tossing Rachel toward him. “So…do something about it.”
Henri caught Rachel and gently pushed her into the chair he’d vacated. Breathing hard, he scrambled for something to say. “Back in your office. The day you made me talk to my brother. Do you remember what you said?”
“Is this your way of trying to get out of your duties, Mercer?”
“Just answer the fucking question,” Henri snarled. “What did you say to me?”
I shot a look between them, remembering the way Victor had softened and looked at Henri with almost wistful eyes. I’d struggled to breathe. Winded from Victor’s backhand and cradled in Henri’s arms…but I remembered.
It’d given me chills.
Filled me with horror.
The thought of a child being raised in this place…good God.
But if it saved Rachel’s life…
“You said you were in need of an heir,” I whispered. “You said that you created this island because you don’t fit in anywhere else. Henri reminded you that sometimes…you still feel that loneliness.”
Henri threw me a look then nodded. “Ily’s right.” Pointing at Rachel, who sat slouched and crying, he snarled, “There’s your goddamn heir, Vic. Your blood. Your kin.”
Victor crossed his arms.
His face remained unreadable as he studied the jewel he’d so callously asked Henri to dispatch.
It took forever.
His decision came with so many terrible consequences: accept his offspring and innocence would be born into hell. Don’t accept his offspring, and Rachel would die, and Henri would be the one to do it.
Tears stung my eyes as I reached for Rachel’s shaking hands.
I squeezed her.
She squeezed me back.
Finally, Victor nodded. “Fine. If she doesn’t miscarry from the beating I gave her, and survives today’s game, then I’m open to discussion.”
My mind raced.
He’d beaten her hard enough to warrant a miscarriage?
What game?
Maybe it’s kinder to end her.
To just free every jewel in this place and be done with it…including me.
A horribly morbid thought filled my head.
Henri could be our executioner.
A black-hooded, axe-wielding executioner, beheading all of us in one long line.
Henri glanced at me. He flinched at whatever he saw in my eyes.
Tearing his stare away, he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “What game?”
