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“If you’re trying to placate me, you’re doing a shitty job,” I snip out.
“I’m just pointing out the positives here. Was this how any of us saw this going? Of course not. But sometimes it’s necessary to change course.”
“This wasn’t just a change of course!” I throw up my hands, spittle forming in the corner of my mouth as I lean into her. “Do I need to remind you what’s at stake here?”
She narrows her icy stare on me. “I’m perfectly aware what’s at stake.”
“Then you know how dangerous it can be to have any loose ends. And Hayes Barlow’s unknown whereabouts is a giant loose end.”
“Everyone in the world is looking for him. They think he’s responsible for killing a so-called hero and almost killing their beloved princess. His face is plastered everywhere you turn. He won’t be able to escape capture for long. When he is apprehended, law enforcement knows what needs to be done.”
She allows her words to linger in the air for several long seconds, the only sound that of birds flying overhead and the occasional croaking from a frog.
“In the meantime, I’ve come up with a few ways to keep you in the headlines in case any negative publicity trickles in regarding Hayes Barlow’s accusations,” she continues in a bright voice. “A preemptive strike, if you will. While we’d originally hoped to paint you as the grieving boyfriend of a dead princess, that’s not a possibility anymore. We can still use your relationship to our advantage. Perhaps even arrange a few chance encounters between the two of you, since the official press release did say you parted as friends. Maybe a trip to Paris within the next few weeks while I track down Barlow. I—”
“I don’t think so,” I interject gruffly, my tone harsh and threatening.
Gianna immediately snaps her mouth shut, eyes darting around nervously.
While I’m typically curt and decisive, making it a true testament to my acting abilities to play the part of the doting boyfriend all summer, I’m usually not this severe with Gianna.
“I suppose we could go in a different direction,” she suggests with a tremble in her voice. “But considering so many people are hoping you’ll get back together—”
“I’m not talking about your proposal.” I take several slow steps toward her. “I’m talking about you in general. I don’t think this…arrangement is going to work out any longer.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that your services are no longer required.”
She stares, mouth agape, disbelief heavy on her face. “You’re…firing me?”
I shrug, feigning indifference.
“You… You can’t fire me.”
“I can. And I did. Regardless of any loyalties my father may feel toward you, I don’t share those sentiments. You’re supposed to fix things. Not make them worse. Killing Callie made them worse. Since then, nothing you’ve done has fixed your giant fuck up.”
“That you started by falling under the spell of her pussy.”
“Therefore, I have no use for you anymore,” I finish, ignoring her statement.
“You…” She shakes her head, eyes turning fiery as she leans toward me. “If I were you, I’d reconsider. I know things about you and your father that could ruin you. Know precisely what’s on those recordings. Worse, I also know about your father’s involvement in the death of Prince Nicholas and his entire family during that ‘skiing accident’,” she threatens, using air quotes. “You don’t want that kind of information to get out. Anything Callie or Hayes may know pales compared to what I know.”
“I can’t deny that,” I admit with a long sigh. “You could certainly cause quite a bit of trouble for my father and me. Which is probably why he’s kept you on as long as he has.”
“Precisely.” She straightens her spine. “So if I were you—”
Before she can utter another syllable, I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and grab my knife, plunging it into her stomach. She gasps, surprise evident in her expression as she looks from my eyes to the knife protruding from her and back again.
“Y-you st-stabbed me.”
“Like I said…,” I begin as a devilish smile curves the corners of my mouth. “Your services are no longer required.”
I twist the blade, her pained scream echoing in the stillness of the air around me, causing birds along the bank to take flight. When I feel her go limp, the life slowly draining from her eyes, I yank the knife out of her, allowing her body to fall in a heap on the ground.
“You see, Gianna,” I begin as I lift the blade, admiring the deep red hue against the silver blade. “That’s how you tie up loose ends.”
