Chapter 13 Kateřina #2
“He wants a meeting. Wants to talk partnership,” Landon says finally.
Cain remains motionless, his expression calm and steady. Almost soulless. He merely hums—such a mysterious, sexy, and creepy at the same time noise.
“Tell me, Landon. When I ordered you to send Torres a message, what exactly did you do?”
I can see Landon’s sweat trickling down his temple. Did he fuck up?
“I’m sorry, I …”
“You what?” Cain growls calmly.
“I handled it differently,” he says, his voice tight but a bit shaky. “I thought it’d be better to let them sweat.”
“You thought?”
“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”
Cain approaches Landon and fixates his eyes on his. “Is this just another mistake, or is it the final proof that you’re completely worthless?”
“It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Tell me, Landon … are you still with me?”
“Yes, boss.”
Cain hums again, his eyes never drifting away from Landon’s. “Are you sure?”
Landon finds the courage and looks back into Cain’s eyes. “Yes, boss,” he repeats.
Cain nods, his jaw twitching. “Set the meeting.” He turns his back on Landon. “And dig a grave.” Landon doesn’t talk; he lowers his head and turns to leave as well. “Landon?”
“Yes, Mr. Manson?”
“If you fail me again, the next grave you’ll dig will be yours.”
Landon nods, mirroring Cain from a while ago. “Noted.”
I need to hide. He shouldn’t know I was eavesdropping. Without a second thought, I slip through the nearest door.
My heart is pounding as I listen to him passing just outside.
His footsteps sound quick and heavy as if he’s pissed.
I give a glance to the room. It’s a plain bedroom with not many things around, only the essential furniture in dark tones, just like the rest of the house.
It seems neat and clean, as if no one lives here.
My curiosity piques. The weird thing is that I’m not curious to search around for potential clues. I’m curious about the meeting they were talking about.
I cautiously step out of the room, walk towards the living room again, and carefully peek over the wall.
Cain has already poured himself a scotch and walks up and down the room. He seems impatient. Nervous, I’d say.
He exhales. “I thought I asked you to go to your room,” he growls, without looking at me. How does he know I’m here?
Without having any reason to hide anymore, I step forward, revealing myself.
“You’ve defied me more times than I can forgive, little rose.”
“Will you kill that man you were talking about?” I ask bravely. I know the answer, but I ask anyway. I suppose deep down, I still hold on to hope. Hope that he’s not the monster I believe him to be. Hope that he’s worthy of redemption.
He faces me and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he went against me. He wants to kill me as well.”
Tears flood my eyes. I have no idea why. “Don’t you know of another way to solve your differences?”
“In my world, there’s no other way, Kate?ina. The bigger fish eats the small one.”
Unfairness starts boiling inside me again. I feel drowned. Suffocated. My ears are ringing, and my temples are pulsing.
“You’re a monster!” Determined, I rush toward him and stop just a few inches away. “You’re a manipulative, twisted man who keeps me here against my will and goes out only to destroy what’s left!”
“You’ve got me wrong, sugar. I do more than that.”
“You only know how to hurt and frighten people! You hurt me! You cut me!”
His dark green eyes remain persistent on mine, and he clicks his tongue. He walks toward the liquor cabinet, opens it, and takes out a stiletto knife. What is he doing?
He marches toward me again, seizing my wrist in a firm grip and yanking me closer. My body locks up, rigid with fear, and I flinch. He pries my fingers apart, forcing my palm open, then shoves the knife into it. His eyes burn into mine, unyielding.
“Go on,” he murmurs, his voice low and guttural. “Cut me like I cut you. Show me you’re not weak.”
My eyes widen. “What? Are you insane?”
He grips my arms and pulls me closer until my body collides with his. “You want out? Here’s your chance. Fight your way out.”
My heart races, my breath shallow. He releases his grip on me, and I stumble back, my legs shaking.
He sinks into the armchair with a quiet, satisfied grunt, his eyes locked on mine, daring me to make a move. “Kneel and do it.”
Does he really want me to cut him?
I stare at the knife, my knuckles white from how hard I’m gripping it. My eyes flick to him, then back to the blade. I could do it. I could end it now.
I step closer, my breath ragged. My knees meet the ground as he waits for me to do as he commands.
He watches me, unblinking, the corners of his lips twitching, like he’s waiting for me to break.
I hold the knife downwards and touch the blade to his forearm.
“Do it,” he urges. “Take revenge.”
The knife lowers slowly, but not enough to pierce his flesh.
“I … I can’t,” I whisper. “I’m not like you.” I try to pull the knife away, but he grips my hand above the handle and presses it against his skin. His eyes remain locked on mine as he sinks the blade deeper into his flesh.
“What are you doing?” I squeal.
He doesn’t blink. He’s unfazed. Calm. Still. As he carves his skin with the blade, blood starts dripping from his wound, but that doesn’t deter him. He guides my hand, keeping the blade pressed against his arm, carving deeper while his eyes remain unyielding on mine.
“Stop it already!” I shout, trying to break free from this madness.
And then, he does. His breathing becomes more rapid, and his eyes drop to the wound, making mine follow.
He carved a letter. A small capital letter.
K.
“What did you do?” I ask, my voice shaking.
He leans in closer, a sinister smirk creeping across his well-shaped lips.
“Now, we’re even,” he hisses, his lips brushing against my ear. “Go to your room, Kate?ina.”