"Do you normally make-out with the people you're hired to kill? It doesn't strike me as very professional."
"Put the gun down," Gabriel panted, not answering her.
"Why on earth would I do that?"
"Because you're not going to shoot me," Gabriel rep...
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By the time Henry arrived at the conference room, Alexander and Huxley were already waiting. Henry was usually the first to arrive, but getting Ash up to speed on everything was worth being late. He was especially curious to see how Alexander would react when he brought Ash in. Toying with Alexander had become one of his newest hobbies, ever since the idiot had made the mistake of keeping information about Phoenix from him.
"Alexander, Glen," Henry said, greeting them both.
Huxley gave him a fearful smile, while Alexander scowled before speaking.
"You're late."
"Just tying up some loose ends," Henry responded calmly.
"So you found Phoenix then?" Alexander mocked, clearly expecting the answer to be no.
Henry answered Alexander's question with a small smile.
"Wait...did you?" Huxley asked eagerly.
"I did."
Alexander sat up, immediately at full attention. "Where is she?"
"She's here," Henry said, opening the door to the conference room.
Ashlyn stepped inside, her head held high. Henry watched as Alexander ran his eyes up and down the length of his daughter's body. Henry had anticipated that, which is why as a special torment for Alexander, he had picked out a ruffled, short white dress with a plunging neckline for his daughter to wear. She either looked like a very sinful angel or a very innocent devil. Either way, from the stunned look on Alexander's face, Henry had succeeded in frustrating him.
After Alexander recovered from his inital shock, he began to yell. "What the fuck Henry? Why is she walking around free as a bird? That bitch is dangerous."
"This 'bitch' is my daughter," Henry replied calmly.
Alexander and Huxley's eyes ping ponged between father and daughter, undoubtedly noting their high cheekbones, their similarly shaped eyes, their cold expressions. She wasn't the spitting image of her father, but the familial resemblance was clear enough.
"Of course she's your fucking daughter," Alexander retorted. "The psychotic bastard gene must run in the family."
"You should be careful Alexander," Ashlyn said kindly. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to your stitches."
"You bitch," Alexander swore, reaching for his gun. But Henry was far quicker, his gun pressed to Alexander's temple before the Frenchman could even raise the gun above his waist.
"No one is killing anyone," he told Alexander calmly.
Alexander clenched his jaw, but released his grip on his gun.
"But...if she's your daughter, why was she trying to destroy us?" Huxley asked, confused.
"A simple misunderstanding," Henry explained. "She was operating with incomplete information, and everything seemed to point to you two murdering me."
