Marry or Kill

21

E L I A S

The mic feels cool against my skin as I draw it closer to my face, my voice steady despite the turmoil roiling within.

"So, you've managed to worm your way into our systems," I drawl with a deep chuckle, masking the unease that gnaws at the edges of my composure. "How resourceful of my father."

The revelation doesn't come as a surprise. My father's betrayal, though painful, is not unexpected. He has always been driven by his own ambitions, regardless of the cost to those around him. But this intrusion will be the last.

They will not breach our defences again.

"I suppose you didn't anticipate this turn of events, did you?" Jameson asks, the hint of satisfaction evident in his voice. "Though I do wish I could've heard the agony in your voice when that bullet found its mark."

Jameson is Atticus's father, leader of The West. And who put the bounty on my head.

My jaw tenses. "Well, I haven't felt the pain of a gunshot wound in quite some time, long before you ever put a bounty on my head," I retort, feeling the simmering rage that threatens to boil over.

"It won't be long soon til you meet your very end," Jameson drawls, his voice withering with age and arrogance. The years may have weathered his body, but his malice remains as sharp as ever.

"Pathetic, resorting to empty threats over a mic instead of having the spine to show up in person with my father," I say.

The wetness of his lips echoes through the mic when he opens his mouth, but I immediately intervene before he can speak through his withering lips again.

"You've witnessed the aftermath of your hired assassins. They leave The North nameless and faceless. So, what exactly is it that you want?" I demand.

Jameson's voice drips with thinly veiled threats. His attempt at intimidation is obvious, but a twinge of concern still gnaws at the edges of my resolve.

"That technique has worn too thin," he sneers. His lips smack at the silence, a perverse pleasure evident in his sadistic game.

"Out of the goodness of my heart, I feel compelled to warn you—" he begins, his words laced with a menace that sends a shiver down my spine.

But my patience wears thin, worn down by the weight of his empty promises and veiled threats. "Warn me of what?"

Jameson's bitter cackle echoes through the line, chilling me to the bone. It's a sound that makes me want to rip my own skin off my bones.

"I promise you, luck might have favoured you in the past, but attempting to outrun The West while The North flounders in its sorry state?" he drawls, his voice oozing with contempt. "You're hopeless."

Either I was going to be killed there with Mina, our lives snuffed out like candles in the wind, or they would take Mina away to crush me further. They would force her into a marriage with The West.

A cruel smile begins to form on my lips, a reaction to the twisted game he plays. "I don't deal in promises, so naturally, they hold no value for me," I shoot back, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside.

"Take this as an oath and a swear to God that you will be dead—" he begins.

But I can't help but chuckle under my breath, interrupting his speech with a hint of amusement. "Unfortunately, I'm not religious, either," I reply, my tone laced with sarcasm. "You mistake me for a man with morals, Jameson."

I can sense the quiet seething in his silence, a simmering rage that threatens to boil over at any moment. It takes him a moment to compose himself, his anger palpable even through the distance of the line.