I will possess your heart - Rhys Montrose X Reader

───Part 17.

Rhys's heart both ached and jumped in joy when he thought about what the future had in store for you - what he had in store for you.

The pieces were in their rightful place, despite Joe's - the wild card of this game - interference (which turned out to be rather helpful in getting you where he wanted you to be) and subsequent inclusion, and his plan would soon come to fruition - the one for you, that was.

Joe's was something different altogether.

He turned out to be rather difficult - more than you - and it was frustrating to watch him waste the opportunities Rhys had granted him to prove that they were cut from the same cloth. How many more was he privy to? How many until Rhys's patience would run out?

Only time could tell, but once he evinced your monstrous side and you would accept his own (there was no doubt left in his mind that you would), he'd care less for the American man and wouldn't mind getting rid of him. It'd be a shame, yes, but if he turned into a thorn in his side, he'd simply pluck it out and toss the remnant away without so much as a second thought.

What bothered Rhys the most was the sudden shift in Joe's attitude towards you that he displayed openly - for Rhys that was - at the funeral. It killed him that he didn't know what was fueling the gears running rampant where churning out in the American's head.

He had theories, of course, but nothing concrete. No evidence that could lead him -

Ah.

It was the middle of the night and if he wasn't tangled up in your arms, he'd have run his hand down his face at his own forgetfulness. There was one thing, one important, critical thing that had aided him all this time that he could check to confirm or dismiss his theory.

Detaching himself from you, drawing the duvet over your bare, sleeping form, he pulled on a new set of clothes and crept out of the room with his phone illuminating his face.

Rhys pulled up his favorite application, hidden unless one knows exactly where to look, which archived and recorded in real time the location of your phone, as well as Joe's. There were a couple of others he'd made sure to keep track of - his group of friends for one -, but they weren't important right now.

He'd already figured out what you'd done the previous day, and buried an investigation preparing to dig into the incident the minute it opened - can't have you linked to this. It was bad enough that Joe had thrown a wrench into his plan to keep your face out of the suspect pool surrounding Malcolm's death, sending the police straight to you before he had the chance to nudge them in a different direction, and he didn't need you to become even more of a person of interest.

The new bait was set out for them to track, for them to find a new target to scrutinize and leave you be - the hounds weren't welcome here.

Knowing what to look for, he combed through Joe's activity, fingers drumming against the counter as he grabbed a glass of water and found his day overlapping with yours at the most unfortunate time.

Rhys knew Joe had his suspicions about everyone, with you climbing to the top of the list since you inadvertently said his real name, but you'd officially be declared to be the killer by Joe now. His incorrect conclusion was plain for Rhys to see, and the lid was pulled back, allowing him to read and analyze the products inside Joe's brain. What path he'd take. What fool-hearted actions he'd take.

It was another hurdle in his ploy designed for Joe, but not one he couldn't adjust to.

He'd bought himself, and you, time by threatening Kate, enough to rearrange the board and find a new course of direction for Joe. He just needed to keep him away from you so he wouldn't interfere with yours too.

This was crucial, a necessity. He couldn't be sure of the results if that was the case, and if they went astray...

Clenching his jaw, he put aside his phone and the empty glass in his hands, and made sure you were still asleep. Satisfied with the steady rise and fall of your chest, he found your phone in his jacket, having kept it away from you. He'd taken it a number of times before, checking in on how your friendship with Lucille was going and interfering a few times ( he couldn't have her distract you when he needed your focus on him).

It seemed to be going grand in that department.

With how quickly he needed to advance his relationship with you, she had to be removed, at least temporarily, and it had been far too easy to do so.

Rhys was aware of the fact that she loved to indulge in celebrity gossip and made note of which websites she'd frequent, and after intensive research he found out the son of one of the journalists writing for her one of thjem worked at an Aquarium (the fact that he actually visited the place a number of times before was a pleasant surprise), and took you to it on one of the days he'd be working, ensuring that pictures of your date would show up on it. Given how fickle her current mental state (information he gained detailed reports on, courtesy of the therapist she started seeing that convinced her to rekindle her friendship with you) was, she wouldn't take it well, and a rift would tear you two apart. You wouldn't be able to rely on her, and she wouldn't be there to talk you out of dating him, which she definitely would have if circumstances hadn't been so volatile.

There were dozens of texts and phone calls from her attempting to do precisely that after she spotted you by his side on the news covering Simon's funeral, and one by one, he erased their existence and blocked her number. She'd be hurt by your 'silence', and give up, going back to drowning her sorrows in the club away from you (her therapist 'unfortunately' would be unavailable in the foreseeable future).

After Tuesday he'd unblock her and you'd be none the wiser - your place next to him as the eat-the-rich-killer would be solidified by then.

Rhys couldn't wait.