33. Aliyah
ALIYAH
My heart slams against my ribs as Jackson crumples to the ground, his massive frame hitting the concrete with a sickening thud. The gun he'd been holding skitters across the pavement.
Footsteps sound behind us, and I don't have time to wonder how he managed to shift his voice around and sneak up behind us. I spin around, my jewelry clinking with the movement, and freeze. The past crashes into me like a freight train.
David Hugh stands ten feet away, his silver hair gleaming under the street lights. He looks exactly the same as he did nine years ago - perfectly tailored suit, cold blue eyes, and that same shark-like smile that used to make my skin crawl when he would come to my house.
"Well, if it isn't Joseph Richards' little girl." His voice carries that same cultured accent that probably impressed all his wealthy clients. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you properly."
I stare at him, shocked that of all the people that came after me, it wasn't even someone I dug up dirt on. It was all my dad - and he used David's money to run. Even threw the cops on his sent since his hands aren't clean either.
Obviously.
"You know, your father was clever." David takes a casual step forward, gun trained steadily on my chest. "Using me as his mark, then tipping off the feds about my...
extracurricular activities to create his own escape route.
But you-" His eyes narrow. "You're something else entirely. More dangerous than he ever was."
I keep my voice steady, though my fingers tremble. "I learned from his mistakes."
"Indeed. Information is so much more valuable than mere money, isn't it?
" Another step closer. "Based on the way I've seen people go down when they get too close to you…
well, I'm guessing you know that." His smile turns razor-sharp.
Shit. He thinks I have dirt on him. Which…
I do. He was the first one I knew I had to protect myself against. "Can't have that hanging over my head, now can I? "
Behind me, I hear Jackson groan. The sound pierces through my terror - he's alive. But David's finger tightens on the trigger.
"Nothing personal, sweetheart. Just cleaning up loose ends. Your father left quite a mess behind."
"You will regret this," I bite out, growing more agitated the longer this goes on. I'm aching to check on Jackson and he is prolonging that.
"Such a pity." David's smile stretches wider, all predator.
"You could have been quite useful in my organization.
Your father - amateur that he was - still managed to steal millions from me.
But you?" He clicks his tongue. "You've brought down three of my associates this year alone with those pretty little recordings of yours. "
My hand inches toward the pendant at my neck. The micro SD card inside holds enough evidence to bury him and half his cronies.
"I recognized you the moment you walked into that party." David's eyes glint with malice. "Same delicate features as your mother. Same calculating look as your father. I started watching - noticed how the men you serviced seemed to have unfortunate... accidents with the SEC shortly after."
"Maybe they should've kept their mouths shut about their insider trading."
"Clever girl." He takes another step closer. "But you see, your father's debt to me was never settled. And now you're an even bigger liability than he was."
The gun wavers slightly as he gestures. "No hard feelings though. Business is business."
That fraction of movement is all I need. I launch myself forward, using every ounce of dance training in my muscles. My elbow connects with his wrist as my other hand claws for his face. The gun fires wide, the sound echoing off the buildings.
David snarls, grabbing my hair. I slam my knee up, catching him in the groin. He doubles over but doesn't release his grip.
"You little bitch-"
I twist in his grasp, ignoring the burning pain in my scalp, and drive my heel into his instep.
The precious tennis bracelet on my wrist catches the streetlight as I claw at his eyes.
All those years of playing the harmless waitress while gathering intel have made people forget - you don't survive being Joseph Richards' daughter without learning how to fight dirty.
"I'm not my father." I bare my teeth, tasting blood from where my lip split in the struggle. "And I don't owe you shit."
David's fingers twist harder in my hair, but the pain only fuels my rage. The sight of Jackson's body on the ground, the knowledge that this bastard hurt him - it ignites something primal inside me.
"You know what your problem is, David?" I drive my elbow back into his solar plexus. "You're stuck in the past. Still crying over getting played by an amateur con man."
He wheezes but maintains his grip. I catch a glimpse of his face - that aristocratic mask finally cracking to reveal the true monster beneath.
"But I'm not some scared little girl anymore." My hand closes around the pendant at my neck. "And you just made the biggest mistake of your life."
"By coming after you?" He sneers, voice strained. "I don't think-"
"No." I twist in his grip, ignoring the burning pain as strands of hair tear free. "By hurting him."
I don't give a fuck about me, but Jackson? I've lost every ounce of control now.
My knee connects with his groin again, harder this time. As he doubles over, I slam my forehead into his nose. The crunch is satisfying.
"See, I might trade in secrets-" Blood drips from his face as I wrench free. "But Jackson? He trades in violence."
I tap my necklace, where the micro SD card nestles safely. "And thanks to you, I'm about to send every dirty detail I have on you to every agency and news outlet in my contacts. Your entire empire will burn by morning."
David lunges for me but stumbles, his earlier confidence shattered. "You wouldn't dare-"
"Watch me." I back toward Jackson's prone form, my fingers flying over the hidden compartment in my bracelet that connects to my phone. "No one fucks with the man I care about. Not even some rich prick who got played by my daddy issues."
The message sends with a soft chime. David's face goes chalk-white as he realizes what I've done.
"Welcome to the new generation of criminals, asshole. We fight smarter, not harder."
But we both know we can't walk away. I can't have him chasing me, and I dare to look away from him for one second until I spot it - Jackson's gun lying just feet away where it had skittered earlier. David sees it too. We both lunge.
My fingers close around the grip first. The metal feels cold, heavy, unfamiliar. I've never killed anyone before. Never wanted to. But as David's hands wrap around my throat, squeezing until spots dance in my vision, I realize there's a first time for everything.
"You stupid little girl." His perfectly manicured fingers dig deeper. "Just like your father - too smart for your own good."
The gun presses between us. His eyes widen as he feels the barrel against his stomach.
"No." My voice comes out raw. "I'm nothing like my father."
I pull the trigger.
The sound is deafening. David's grip loosens as red blooms across his pristine white shirt. His mouth opens and closes, those aristocratic features twisted in shock.
"He ran." Another shot. More red. "I fight."
David stumbles backward. The gun feels lighter now, more natural. Like it knows what needs to be done.
"He left me behind." The third shot catches him in the chest. "I protect what's mine."
He collapses, that expensive suit ruined with dirt and blood. Those cold blue eyes that used to make my skin crawl stare up at nothing.
I keep the gun trained on him as I back toward Jackson. My hands don't shake. My heart doesn't race. I feel... calm. Like I've finally shed the last traces of that scared little girl who watched her father abandon her.
David Hugh lies dead on the pavement, and I don't feel a thing except relief. Maybe that makes me a monster. Or maybe it just makes me someone who's finally learned to survive in this world of sharks and killers.
Either way, I know one thing for certain - no one will ever threaten what's mine again.
And Jackson is mine.