Carlos grimaced at the blade pressing harder still into his neck, threatening to sever the skin. However, his face brightened at her words. "Oh, how delightful! Your little boyfriend hasn't told you yet?" He studied her expression, finding the answer. They knew? Althea thought of Ghost's eyes, seemingly looking into her soul. This entire time, he knew and he didn't say anything? Anger brewed in her stomach, churning it. Calm down, Althea. Don't let him get the better of you. But she felt the self-doubt growing in the pit of her stomach along with the anger. Simon likely had a reason.
"How peculiar. I would have thought with the way he looked at you, he would have done anything for you." His grin widened even further, a wide crack in his face, and his next words sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. "I would've thought with the way you looked at him, you would have done anything for him."
Her voice came out as a growl. "You know nothing."
The look on his face was almost sympathetic. "No, you know nothing. He has not only hidden the truth about your parents, but he has also hidden that twisted mess inside him. He-"
Althea hit him, and she hit him hard. Blood splattered her pearl white mask. He glared at her, spitting blood onto the floor. Her hand was bleeding, her knuckles bruised under the glove.
"Leave him out of it."
"Huh, you do care for him."
"Tell me the truth."
He contemplated his options. "What will you give me if I tell you?"
"Tell me something of value, and I will consider it."
"So I shall have nothing?" He sneered at her. "What makes you think I will tell you anything?"
"I don't think I can be any more clear than I am now," Althea grabbed his hair, pressing the knife at an angle, to create a more excruciating, but less lethal cut. The pressure drew a line of bright red liquid oozing across his tan skin.
Her voice was low. "Add 5 ounces of pressure and your jugular will be severed. Depending on how much pressure I apply, anywhere from seven seconds to ten minutes and you will bleed to death. I do not beg for comforting reminiscences or love stories. If you have something to give me, then perhaps I will find something for you. But do not think I need you."
She gave him another sickly sweet smile, like poison. "So, what about it? Do you wish to slowly choke and drown in your blood as I carve your throat out of your neck?"
"Then I will be one more added to the pool of blood at your feet. So go ahead and kill me, just like the little murderer you are."
His words were abrasive, however at this point, he looked properly anxious, making satisfaction swell in her gut. She quickly quashed it, however. Getting too cocky wouldn't lead to anything good. "Very well, Marie. I'll tell you what I know." He gave her an oily smirk, almost as thick as his accent, but it had lost its confidence. "But you must promise that my life is spared once I've shared the information."
Althea didn't lower the knife but nodded in agreement. "Your life depends on the truth you reveal."
"First, how about we lower the knife? I don't know if I can properly tell my story if you keep me at knife-point this entire time."
With a glare, she slowly lowered the knife, and some of the confidence returned to his haughty expression as he rubbed his sore and bleeding neck.
"Once upon a time-"
"Tell the fucking story."
He sighed. "Many years ago, General Pierre Dupont, was a rising star in the military. He had it all—talent, charisma, and the potential for a brilliant career. But he came from nothing, living in abject poverty as a child, surviving off scraps and living a life of hardship. He desired power and wealth more than anything in the world."
Althea listened intently, her emotions masked behind her masquerade of calm composure. This was the story she had yearned to uncover.
Carlos continued, "Pierre met a woman, your mother, Amandine when he was scavenging for food behind a formal restaurant. She was an elegant and charming lady from an affluent background. They fell in love, and for a while, life seemed perfect. But his hunger for power and wealth was insatiable. He grew obsessed, craving a high-ranking position in the military and the riches that came with it."
"When he climbed the ranks in the military, he couldn't resist the allure of the drug trade. He saw it as an opportunity to accumulate wealth and power beyond his wildest dreams. Your mother discovered his secret dealings, and she tried to dissuade him, pleading for him to leave the criminal world. But he was convinced that his actions were for the betterment of their future, believing that their child should never endure the poverty he'd suffered.
"Amandine left him. She packed her belongings, determined to break free from his grasp. He begged her to return, to give him another chance, but she was resolute in her decision. She even changed her contact information to escape him.
"His life unraveled when the drug operation was exposed. He lost everything, even his reputation within the military. But he received a tip from the anonymous informant who had exposed him. He traced the source and found Amandine with another man. Enraged, he murdered her husband; your father in cold blood. When she tried to run, in his fury he shot her as well."
"No," Althea's eyes widened, this couldn't be true. It wasn't.
"When he entered the house," Carlos said, his voice growing colder, "he discovered a small child, left alone in the wake of the horrifying tragedy. That child was you."
Before she could speak again, she suddenly felt her vision blur, and he limbs grew heavy. Panic surged through her, the adrenaline giving her mind energy, but her body seemed to betray her. She struggled to stay upright. She swung at him but missed.
Carlos, however, smiled with a sinister satisfaction as he watched her struggle. "I must say, I heavily underestimated you, Althea."
Althea's voice slurred as she tried to respond, he words sluggish and unsteady as she leaned on the table next to her, only for it to crash to the ground. "What... did you do to me..."
Carlos, taking advantage of her weakened state, plucked the knife easily from her grip. He sent the knife clattering across the floor. Her world spiraled into chaos, the room spinning as she teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
"Drugged your drink," He admitted, his voice filled with amusement. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "You want to know what's funny? My father- he was the drug dealer. I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree." His grip on her wrist tightened, and he lifted her head with a rough tug of his hand. "But now I'm going to make you suffer as much as my father did. After all, it's all dear Amandine's fault he's gone."
He stepped over her body as she crashed to the floor, fatigue seizing her body. "You see, it was never about money, or about a reward." He adjusted his vest, brushing the dust off of it. "It was about revenge. And I will make sure I'll get it."
Althea's eyelids drooped, and the room faded into a haze of darkness as she succumbed to the effects of the drug.
A/N: Sorry for not posting guys, I swear I'm writing as fast as I can 😭😭😭 I genuinely just don't have time to write anymore, but I'm going to keep trying to steal as many minutes as I can out of every day :)
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I love you guys so much T_T
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