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"Thanks, Viktor."
I turned my head slightly just to nod in response, and with that, I was closing the door behind me and heading to the elevator.
The ride down was my moment to bury everything into that safety chest within myself, the spot where I kept my most valuable memories, thoughts, and individuals. It was the place that no matter what torturous actions were plagued upon me in the event I was captured, those key items would be taken right to my grave.
All the information, secrets, info only I carried was at my disposal, ready to be used to threaten those who dared to try and get an upper hand against me.
I carried knowledge Russia would pay me billions if not trillions for, and could probably start World War III if it got into the proper hands. But seeing as I had a few individuals I still cared about in this lifetime, that was reserved for an apocalypse.
When there were twenty floors to go, I secured the one who made the most valuable impact in my life.
My cage-fighting royal princess by the name of Willow.
This process was always the same. I relived the memories of many instances that brought a smile to my face as I watched her grow through the years. This time around, memories I'd forgotten came flashing by: scenes of Willow laughing and running through large halls with her little arms spread out while her long white strands flew in the wind.
What a difference from the memories of her voided eyes, her appearance replicating a male in hopes of Roberto's approval. The years of hidden rebellion, while she worked through the torture and agony a life raised by Roberto delivered was inspiring.
If she were raised properly, in a royal Pack House that acknowledged her title, birthright, and bright future, would Willow be as much of a threat as she was to the world?
William wouldn't even exist in such a world.
His smug smile flashed within my mind, those taunting eyes staring at me with amusement before he'd get back to work on the list of duties at his desk.
It was amazing how one individual could be damn right charming as a male and dead fucking gorgeous as a woman. No matter the gender, the effect on my heart was still the same.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
I worked on burying the remaining memories faster, and by the time I reached the ground floor, the deed was done. Everything was locked, protected, shielded from this depressive world of darkness, and wouldn't be opened until this mission was done.
My heart calmed just as the doors opened and my face was expressionless as I got into work mode and headed straight for the rotating doors. There was no need for me to go through the back or any other entrance.
We were still in a controlled space that benefited us, but we wouldn't be for long.
The black Cadillac Escalade was already waiting for me. One of the suited men reached out to open the door for my entrance. I moved in a fluid motion and was situated in my seat as the door closed.
No words were spoken, but my eyes already darted to confirm who was in the vehicle.
Dimitris was in the passenger seat, his eyes glued to his phone while his fingers darted rapidly across the screen keyboard. I was sure he was finalizing our plans and making sure backup was in place.
Next up in the two middles seats were Jayce and Saint. The two were focused. Jayce's fingers flew across the mini laptop in his lap that continued to display multiple pop-up windows with various codes while Saint looked to be browsing various articles.
Even at my distance, I could see the large headlines in thick capital letters.
WILLIAM DE LUCA, DEAD AT 25.
I had no emotional response to the headline, but I was sure if I wasn't in assassin mode, I'd be furious. From Saint's rigid posture, he wasn't pleased by the quick execution of the enemy's plan.
Neo was dead on with his assumption, and the thought made me side glance to the left to acknowledge the man in question. His eyes were closed, and I wondered if he was actually napping.
From the chaotic force of authoritative dominance he displayed earlier, I was sure he needed a power nap. The display of his switch was something I hadn't seen since the days of fighting and endless loss of innocence in the realms of war.
We referred to it as "Sin Switching," a disorder created to protect the mind after an intensely traumatic event or series of torturous events that left permanent damage to the brain. “Sin” because the action done to the victim was unholy. The person was pushed past their mental capacity, triggering an entity of themselves that 'protected' the individual from the catastrophic occurrence.
It was a condition with no cure and almost all individuals with this disorder died from losing their sanity and killing themselves. The few that did survive were powerful and were Alphas that used their trauma to further empower them.
Neo had to be in his mid-twenties, which left the curious mind to wonder what fucked-up shit he’d endured to create a being like Nico.
Or maybe Neo was the switch personality created to protect Nico.
