Chapter 24 #3
“Your perceptiveness serves you well.” The figure leaned closer to the camera.
“Let me be perfectly clear about the consequences should you disregard these instructions. Your Nemesis contract will be terminated immediately. Your rank will be reduced to Novice. Your assets will be frozen. And should Valor suffer any... accidents, regardless of whether they can be traced to you, you will be placed in containment indefinitely.”
My blood ran cold. Containment was the polite term for the specialized prisons designed to neutralize powers. No one who entered containment ever truly came out the same.
“Is that all?” Cipher’s voice was eerily calm.
“For now.” The figure paused. “We trust you understand the gravity of your situation.”
“Yes.” Cipher’s fingers drummed once on the workbench—the only outward sign of his rage.
“Excellent. The Syndicate expects your full compliance.” The screen went black.
The silence that followed was deafening. Cipher stood motionless, his back still to me.
“Cipher?” I ventured cautiously.
When he turned to face me, his eyes were completely dead. The anger and betrayal had evaporated, leaving behind nothing. “It seems your precious Alliance has thought of everything.” His voice was flat and devoid of any emotion.
He walked toward me slowly and his hand shot out, fingers gripping my chin with just enough pressure to make me gasp. He tilted my face up, forcing me to look directly into his eyes, those cold, brilliant eyes that saw everything.
“Cipher?” I whispered again, my voice trembling.
“Let me tell you exactly what’s going to happen tonight,” he said. “You’re going to put on something pretty. You’re going to let them drape you in whatever gaudy jewelry they’ve picked out. You’re going to smile for the cameras.”
His thumb brushed across my lower lip, the gesture almost tender despite the frost in his voice.
“And the whole time, you’ll be falling apart inside,” he continued. “Every time he touches you, every time he leans in close, every time he whispers in your ear—you’ll be thinking of me.”
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from his gaze.
“When it’s over, when you’ve played your part like the good little Keeper you are, you’ll come here.” His grip tightened slightly. “You’ll come to me broken and desperate, wanting me to put you back together.”
He was right. That was exactly what I’d planned to do.
He leaned down until his lips nearly brushed mine, his breath warm against my skin. “That’s not on fucking offer anymore.”
I tried to jerk away, but his grip held firm.
“When you come to me tonight, and we both know you will, I’m going to fucking excise Valor from your flesh. I’m going to erase every place he touched you. Every word he whispered. Every smile you gave him.”
He released my chin abruptly, stepping back. The sudden absence of his touch left me swaying slightly.
“And then,” he said, his voice suddenly clinical, “when I’m done with you, I’m going to walk away. I will leave you exactly as empty as you’re leaving me.”
“Cipher—”
“Get out.” He turned his back to me, dismissing me.
I stood there, unable to move, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t make this worse. I stared at his back, at the rigid line of his shoulders, at the man who was both the source of my greatest joy and my deepest frustration.
”What are the numbers?” I asked quietly.
His back stiffened. “What?”
“The numbers. The probability calculations you’re running in your head. How likely is it that you’re fucking up right now? That this reaction is a miscalculation?”
“You want my numbers?” Cipher turned slowly. “Fine. There’s a ninety-three percent probability that the Alliance will use this fake engagement to boost Valor’s ratings for at least six months. Eighty-eight percent chance they’ll drag it out to a fake wedding.”
He took a step toward me, eyes cold and full of nothingness. “Ninety-two percent chance you’ll let Valor kiss you tonight. Not because you want to, but because you’re afraid of making a scene.”
I flinched, but held my ground. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Ninety-seven percent probability that every time you stand next to him, smile for the cameras, or wear his fucking ring, you damage what’s between us. Ninety-nine percent chance you’ll come back here tonight, wanting me to fuck away the memory of his hands on you.”
My chest tightened. “Cipher—”
“And one hundred percent certainty,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper as he closed the distance between us, “that every second you spend pretending to be his, I’ll be calculating exactly how I can destroy him without getting caught.”
“That’s still not what I asked.”
His eyes narrowed, searching my face. “No. It’s not.”
“This isn’t what I want,” I whispered.
He turned back to his worktable. “What you want stopped mattering the moment you chose to wear his ring.”
“I didn’t choose—”
“You’re still here arguing instead of telling them all to go to hell,” he cut in, his voice flat. “That’s a choice, Annie.”
I opened my mouth, closed it again. What could I say? That I was scared? That I didn’t know how to fight the entire system? That I was terrified of losing everything I’d worked for?
All true.
“Go play your part,” he said, still not looking at me. “I’ll play mine.”