13 - Hitman

27 10 39
                                    

The neon lights of the city flashed across the sky like dying stars as I stood in the dark building of Andre Templeton's office

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The neon lights of the city flashed across the sky like dying stars as I stood in the dark building of Andre Templeton's office. The air felt suffocating, my pulse pounding against my ears.

I had agreed to come here, knowing full well the possibility of a confrontation, but little could have prepared me for what Andre had just said.

"I have been patient with you, Claude. Much more than you have any right to," Andre moved to stand near the large windows, his outline shrouded in shadow, the light of New York dancing behind him. "But now it's time for you to repay me."

I wanted to say something, but my throat was dry, words clogged somewhere between disbelief and horror. The files. The names. The numberless lives I'd taken at Andre's command. He had them all in his hands, and he wasn't afraid to use them against me.

"You see," he carried on, swiveling to face me full-on so his cold hazel eyes locked into mine, "Noah... he's become a problem. Weak. He's always been weak, but now? Now he's asking questions. Digging into things that don't concern him. He's starting to believe he can lead the Templeton name."

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe as realization started to dawn. My chest grew tight, my stomach churning on a wave of nausea.

"Noah's your son," I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips.

Andre let out a low laugh in the back of his throat; his smile twisted into a cruel slant.

"No. He's not."

Those words fell into a very deafening silence. I stared hard at him, my mind whirring on. I knew Andre was pitiless, that for him, the love of power was far stronger than the stirrings of any human emotion, but this? Noah and Philip were the only things in a family that Andre had, so everybody thought.

"He's Sonia's bastard," Andre said conversationally, as though he was telling me about the weather. "A mistake."

Fucker.

Sonia. Isla's mother. She had always been a ghost in his house, a distant memory no one spoke of, her death shrouded in mystery. And now, the truth was here, right in front of me, twisting everything I thought I knew. Noah wasn't Andre's son. He was Sonia's secret. And Andre wanted him dead for it.

"You can't be serious," I muttered, my voice barely steady.

"Oh, but I am." Andre stepped closer, the smile never faltering, eyes gleaming with control. "Noah has no place in my empire. He's soft and weak-traits I cannot afford. The Templeton legacy requires someone ruthless and willing to do what's necessary."

I stepped back, my stomach churning.

"You want me to kill him?"

The words felt impossible, too heavy to even say.

Andre's smile grew wider, a dark, sick satisfaction spreading through his features. "That's exactly what I want. And you're going to do it."

I shook my head, dismay and horror crashing through me like a wave. "He's your son. Your family. You raised him-"

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