Chapter Twenty-Four
Mason
“You might want to be careful with that.”
Mathew steps forward and holds the knife up to the light. “You can’t have all the fun.”
“Traitor or not, he’s still a Payne,” I reply. “He can take it, so it’s better to pace yourself.”
Mathew’s lips curl into a chilling smile. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you wanting to be merciful, would it?”
I shoot my brother a pointed look. “Why would I want to do that? You were right. Oliver is a traitor, and he tried to have me killed. I should tear him apart with my bare hands.”
Mathew’s smile grows wider. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“It won’t accomplish anything. We need him alive until he tells us what our enemies know.”
Mathew rolls his eyes and turns to face Oliver. “I like bloodthirsty Mason better. He’s a lot more fun.”
I allow the briefest of smiles. “He’s still here, but my point stands.”
Mathew waves my comment away. “Yeah, yeah. The empire comes first. No reason we can’t enjoy ourselves a little.”
“Of course.”
Mathew hands me the knife and claps me on the back. “Go ahead, then. I can take a break.”
I glance from Oliver, whose face is mangled, and linger on the gaping, angry red wound on the side of his head. “I can wait.”
“I insist. You, more than anyone, should get to do what you want with him.”
I wrench my gaze away and look at Mathew, who is studying me intently. “Perhaps.”
I know I can’t keep stalling. He’s testing me, and I can’t blame him.
And I can’t have him catch on to the fact that I’m having him investigated.
The last thing I need is to give myself away when I’m close to uncovering the truth.
One little cut. Oliver will understand.
With a sigh, I cross over to Oliver and yank his head back. “The Payne genes were wasted on you, little brother. I should drag you out in front of the men. Maybe I should do what they used to do in ancient times and have you tied to a horse and dragged through the streets.”
Mathew comes to stand next to me, and I can feel his pleasure radiating off him in waves. “That’s one of the best ideas you’ve had in a long time.”
I pull Oliver’s head back and watch tears spring into his eyes. Then, I lean forward and wait until he looks at me. “Cat got your tongue?” I hold the knife against the bare skin of his arm. “This is boring. I want to hear him scream and beg for his life.”
“There will be plenty of time for that later.” Mathew has stepped closer now, and I can feel his breath against the back of my neck. “I’m making the arrangements.”
I bet you are, you bastard. You don’t feel the slightest bit of guilt.
Even seeing Oliver’s pain isn’t enough to sway him, no matter how much I wish it would.
I don’t know why I thought indulging in his game would make a difference.
All it’s done is make me want to take care of my twin myself.
How could I have underestimated Mathew, the one person who has never hidden his ambitions?
I had been so busy focused on the enemy marching toward us that I forgot to look at the one walking right next to me, in all the obvious places.
It’s no wonder Mathew has been operating unchecked.
As my father’s right-hand man, with access to all our resources, he’s virtually unstoppable.
And I’m the idiot who let it happen under his nose.
How many times did Mathew watch from the shadows as I fumbled?
How long has he been making a fool out of me?
You just need to wait a little longer, and then you can take care of him. For now, you don’t have enough evidence.
Mathew knows how to cover his tracks, and Carlisle has, unfortunately, not been able to weed out who is loyal to him.
He’s a lot more resourceful than I gave him credit for. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t pissed.
At least now you know Oliver is innocent.
Poor, stupid Oliver, who got in way over his head.
For the umpteenth time, I find myself wishing he had just come to me.
I could’ve helped him.
I could’ve protected him.
How would you have done that? Oliver wasn’t wrong when he said you would’ve just ignored him. With everything else going on, you would’ve told yourself to deal with it later.
With a growl, I drag the knife across his skin and watch Oliver’s face contort in pain.
A hiss falls from his lips as blood drips onto the floor beneath him.
The metallic smell of it fills my nostrils, and I tune Mathew out.
In one quick move, I move the knife to my other hand and make a similar cut on his other arm.
His blood stains the floor beneath our feet, and a small part of me is filled with grim satisfaction.
I might be trying to save Oliver, but it doesn’t mean he emerges unscathed.
It’s a small price to pay for not coming to me first.
Do you see what you’ve done, little brother? You should never have trusted Mathew. You have no one to blame but yourself.
I tell myself that as I hand Mathew the knife.
He throws it to the floor with a clatter and rolls up his sleeves.
I repeat the reasons to myself as I stand in a corner and watch Mathew punch Oliver over and over, the sickening crunch of bone reverberating in the quiet room.
It isn’t until Oliver’s head lolls forward that Mathew draws back and smiles.
His gaze remains fixed on Oliver as he walks backward until he reaches me.
Then, he takes out a napkin and wipes his knuckles.
“I’m doing my part to have him moved. What about yours?”
“There’s too much heat right now,” I reply calmly. “Oliver has left quite the mess for us to clean up. If we move him now, our enemies will take him.”
“He’s a rat. We should let them have him.” Mathew snarls. “We can have a little more fun and leave him to them. I bet they have plans for him, and when they’re done, they’ll take care of the problem for us.”
“We take care of our rats, remember?”
I look at my twin and wait for him to look at me. “Besides, I thought you wanted to be the one to take care of this.”
Mathew’s eyes light up, and it makes me sick. “You’re right.”
I offer him another grim smile.
There’s a knock on the basement door, and Mathew looks away first. He frowns and climbs the stairs,
“I’ll be back.”
A moment later the door shuts behind him. I wait a few more minutes before I remove Oliver’s gag and hold a bottle of water to his chapped lips.
Each ragged breath is a knife through my heart.
Oliver smacks his lips and draws back to look at me through his swollen eye. “Are you any closer to nailing his ass?”
“I’m getting there,” I whisper, pausing to fish a painkiller out of my pocket. Oliver dry swallows it while I clean his wound. “You know how careful he is. This has to stick, otherwise…”
“I know, I know. If we don’t take the bastard down, we’re all as good as dead.”
I ball up the antibiotic-soaked piece of cotton and stuff it into my pocket. “I don’t think he suspects anything, so at least there’s that.”
Oliver spits out a mouthful of blood. “You give quite a performance. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were enjoying some of it.”
“It’s all part of the act.”
I can’t meet Oliver’s gaze after I say this, because he’s right, at least partially.
Even though Oliver feels guilty enough to try and make amends, it doesn’t change the fact that with his help, our enemies are one step closer to destroying us.
Oliver gestures to the bottle, and I lift it to his mouth again.
He guzzles the rest. Then, he sits up straighter and looks at me. “So, what happens after you have everything you need? Are you going to confront him?”
I shake my head. “He’ll expect me to do that. The only way to make sure Mathew is no longer a threat is to play his game.”
Oliver furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”
I take a few steps back. “It means the less you know, the better. You’ve been doing a good job holding out so far, but I can’t take the risk that he’ll beat it out of you.”
Oliver nods tersely. “Fair enough.”
“This is going to hurt.”
“What do you—” I punch Oliver in the gut, causing him to double over in pain. Then I shove the gag back into his mouth. Mathew’s footsteps echo as he climbs down the stairs and comes to stand next to me.
“Enjoying yourself?”
I shrug. “I have better things to do. So do you. We need to speed this up before our father gets suspicious.”
On his way out, Mathew stops to kick Oliver again.
Carlisle finds us then. Mathew is almost giddy when he follows us to the hallway outside my office. I watch him until he rounds the corner and disappears.
Once he’s out of earshot, I look back at Carlisle and tilt my head in the other direction.
In silence, he follows me down the hallway to the library.
After a quick turn, I meet him in front of the secret tunnel and pull the lever.
The portrait shifts sideways, and Carlisle waits for me to duck in.
There’s a small patch of orange light dancing on the floor.
My hand moves to the gun at my side, and I hold my breath until Katia emerges from the shadows.
She holds up a lantern, and her free hand is closed around a knife.
“Were you followed?”
Katia lowers the lamp and looks over at Carlisle. “Of course not. I hope you handled it with more than your usual finesse.”
Carlisle grunts and continues to scan the tunnel.
I step closer to Katia and drop my voice. “Did you get it?”
Katia reaches into her pocket and pulls out a flash drive. “Nadia and I were persuasive.”
Carlisle swings his gaze back to us. “When did we bring her into the loop? We barely know her. Don’t you find the timing suspicious?”
“I don’t.” I silence Carlisle with a withering look. “Nadia is loyal, at least for the time being. We have something she wants.”
Saving her friend hadn’t been easy, but with Katia’s help, we were able to rescue her.
Fortunately for Nadia, I’m a little more reasonable than the previous captors.
If she does what I want, when I want it, no harm will come to her or her friend.
I take the flash drive from Katia’s hand and tuck it into my sock. “Make sure everything else is in position.”
Katia and Carlisle exchange a quick look and nod.