She was lost and so was he.
Who knew that two broken hearts can connect to one.
Arabella's world has been rigged since the day she was born. Her fate had been decided for her much longer before she even had been conceived in the womb. So it came as...
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"You motherfucking bitch," Leon rages, leaping from the ledge and lunging at the knife in my grasp. He screams as I slash upward, the blade catching and slicing a deep wound across his eye. I know more guards are on their way, so I stalk forward while he stares down at the floor, dazed. He doesn't even see me. I smirk.
I lift the knife and, without hesitation, let it fly again—this time slashing across his neck. The red seeps instantly, dark and heavy, as the ridges of the blade drag deep into his skin. He lets out a guttural bellow, and blood spills forcefully to the floor, pooling beneath him like it's desperate to escape.
It feels like I can hear his heartbeat slowing in my ears, each beat growing fainter than the last. When he finally collapses to the ground—just as the door slams open—the rhythm nearly vanishes. And still, I hear it echoing, a phantom pulse that refuses to fade. A delighted grin creeps across my face as those fading taps dance in my head. When the last beat halts, my inner joker slips free, and the joy I feel becomes impossible to hide.
One of the guards kneels beside Leon, checking his pulse—but then he lets go. His head turns slowly, locking eyes with me as I stand with that sick smile still curling on my lips. He rises to his full height, almost as tall as Leon—at least how tall Leon used to be.
I start counting in my head as he raises his hand toward me.
1...
2...
3...
4...
5...
A bullet slices through the air before his hand can even reach me. There's no sound—no scream, no shout, just a sharp gasp as he crumples to the floor, blood leaking from the hole in his head.
All heads turn slowly toward Nicholas, and I grin when I see the fear bloom in their expressions. Some of them look like they're about to piss themselves.
It was actually pretty simple. Nicholas runs this place with psychotic precision. It's like he keeps a mental itinerary of every second of his damn day. So I waited. Days. Nights. Watching. Piecing together his routine. And I did it. Even if it took 382 days.
It's taken that long, but I'm so close. Just a little longer. Just a little more patience.
Nicholas' flight lands at 3 p.m., and it's a 17-minute drive back here. That puts him at the compound by 3:17. But as soon as he gets the call from security about me, he'll floor it. That means he'll get here in half the time—3:08. Even if he runs straight inside and heads down, he'll only make it to this floor at 3:11.
That gave me a deadline.
And based on the two dead guards in the corner, the plan worked.
"Unless I say so, no one touches her." Nicholas growls, his jaw clenched, eyes sharp as glass as he scans the room. Every guard nods without hesitation. "Clean up this mess. Arabella's being moved."
