Page 121 of This Life of Mine

He said the name like a prayer and a curse in unison. And whatever confidence he’d walked in with vanished. Hebegged. Pleaded. Promised money, information, and anything he thought might save him. It didn’t.

Eventually, after very little convincing, he gave me everything. Names. Numbers. Accounts. How he’d been contacted. Who brokered the contract. Where the money was supposed to go once Lina was dead. Who introduced him to the Allister’s. Who vouched for them. Every answer poured out faster than the last.

By the end, he was sobbing. A grown man reduced to shaking tears and desperate bargains. Pathetic.

Maybe it felt different because this one was personal. Maybe because every answer led back to Lina. Or maybe because I wasn’t struggling to keep Alex separate from The Wraith. We became one.

The line between them had disappeared the moment I found this bastard inside her home. The moment I imagined what could have happened if she’d been alone. If he’d gotten his hands on her. The thought hit my chest like gasoline on a fire.

He noticed the change. I saw it in his eyes. The moment he realized I wasn’t justThe Wraithtonight, I was also the man who cared for her. And somehow that terrified him even more.

“Please,” he choked out. “Please don’t kill me.”

I stared at him through the black lenses—no fucking pity. I felt none as I peeled back his flesh, exposed layer after layer of his insides until bone was visible.

I enjoyed every second, because I thought about her. Thought about Lina laughing in the bookstore. Lina curled against my chest. Lina safe. Then I thought about her bleeding. Broken. Gone.

Silence claimed the dark room.

“You made one mistake,” I said, the modulator turning my voice inhuman.

His entire body shook.

“You thought she was simply another target.”

He started whimpering.

I stepped closer. “You broke into her home.” Another step.

“You accepted money to kill her.” Another.

“And now you’re asking for mercy?” I crouch, facing him.

“Men like you always think there’s a deal to be made.”

His breathing hitched.

“But that’s not how this works.”

The terror in his eyes became absolute. There was no bargain. No escape. No second chance. Only consequences.

The last thing he saw was the reflection of the mask. Then the sentence was carried out.

The blade drove forward in a single, deliberate motion. Deep and unforgiving. Straight up through his fucking mouth and into his skull.

His body jerked violently against the restraints. A strangled cry tore from his throat before collapsing into a broken gasp. Disbelief flashed across his face, as though some part of him had convinced himself I’d change my mind at the last second. I didn’t.

People always imagine death arrives with some grand revelation. Most of the time, it arrives with regret. I watched it happen in real time. The moment he understood there would be no rescue.

I stared at the body for several seconds before turning away.

I stepped away long enough to send everything to Reese—files, voice notes, and the pieces that matter.

Now, I stand outside the building, leaning against the wall with my mask in hand, trying to find myself again. Trying to find Alex.

The rage is still there, clawing at the inside of my chest, refusing to let go. It needs to burn itself out. Needs to die before I can be anything other than what I was in that dark room.

My phone vibrates over and over. It’s Reese calling.