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“I see,” he mutters cryptically.

“You took a nice piece. It shoots underwater,” I remind him he’s still gripping Annie.

He looks down at the firearm in his hand before turning a wicked look my way. “A pity the lake is cold as shit, then.”

Would he have used me as a target? “Why the dead body on my front step?”

I see a hint of excitement in his eyes. “That was a happy coincidence. I was working.”

Rami found out Ezra is an assassin for hire on the dark web. “White Death. Did you choose that handler name because of your mask or vice versa?”

“I wasn’t the only one researching deeply.” A small smirk appears on his lips.

“After you dumped the first body, I felt compelled to do so,” I counter.

His open smile reminds me of a coldblooded reptile. He knows I’m lying, since I’ve been looking for him for years. The only information I have, though, is the journal the scientist kept whiletraininghim, which Linda found in the facility where he was held, and some scattered facts Rami was able to discover. Very little compared to what he seems to know about me. Not that I care about his life, but the fact that he knows more puts me at a disadvantage. And that, I don’t fucking like.

“The first body was a gift to show you I’m open to sharing information on Phoenix. The second and most recent one was, as I said, a coincidence. He saw my face while I was taking care of a client, and he called me by your name. I found out he wasone of your…what do you call them? Donors. That AI, Serena, is a great time saver.”

When Raph saw the headless guy’s picture, he told me we’d met him at a gala six months ago. He remembered me talking to him. I have a vague memory of an obnoxious fucker hitting on everything that moved that night, even me. I told Rami to check him out that night, and I found out that Jasper Pendelton was an eligible donor. My list is long, though, and there are last-minute additions as well, that’s why his execution kept getting postponed.

Ezra points Annie toward the wall with the targets. His stance is steady and balanced; he must have experience with guns, not only arrows and beheading people.

“So why did you cut his head off?”

“I wanted to try my new machete.” He shrugs, then shakes Annie in the air. “Where do you keep the ammo for this?”

I stare at him while I lift my gun toward the targets. I fire two shots without taking my eyes off him. I don’t need to look, because I know those bullets hit right between the silhouette’s eyes. “Third drawer on the left,” I tell him, confident he got the message. This is my reign. If he tries something, I’ll end him. No hesitation.

He moves to the line of drawers, and after finding the right one, he starts loading the gun.

“I know you have questions. I’ll answer three.”

It seems like a let’s-cut-the-bullshit act, but it feels more like a calculated step. He didn’t have Meg and Linda growing up. He’s probably not a high-functioning psychopath like Raph, whopossesses core psychopathic characteristics and leverages them for success in specific contexts, while following—more or less—societal norms.

Apathetic, narcissistic, charming, secretive, sexually deviant—all terms that describe me perfectly, but I, too, am agoodsociopath. I wear mymask of sanity, presenting a facade of normalcy, making it hard for others to identify my true nature.We have the ability to control and apply our psychopathic/sociopathic traits. But Ezra is a dangerous enigma. One that we will probably need to eliminate. I don’t have any problem with that. I didn’t search for him out of brotherly concern—I don’t understand the purpose of that emotion—I did it out of arrogance. I was sure I’d be able to find him easily; he is my twin brother. And when that didn’t happen, it was my frustration and stubbornness that kept me going. Maybe that’s why I like detective stories so much, the thrill of the chase, the obscurity and ambiguity. But like my revenge, Ezra took that from me when he appeared out of the blue. He didn’t come to me, though. He went to see Linda first—three times—who didn’t share the fact until recently.

“Why are you here in my house? And don’t give me thesame enemycrap, you’ve been stalking me and my brothers.” Wearing that stupid white mask like a sicko serial killer.

I hear the soft click of the closing drawer, then Ezra turns around, gun aimed at me, eyes void of any emotion. He shoots. The bullet flies, cutting the air near my ear before piercing the target behind me.

I don’t move. My heart keeps beating at its usual rhythm as I give him a hard stare. I’m not afraid of dying. Death isn’t the worst phenomenon; it’s just the final act of life. I’ve been shot at more times than I can count, and I have quite a few scars to prove it—a repercussion of the bloody business I’m part of. I accepted it, and I’m used to it.

“I’m on vacation,” he then says.A very long vacation.He’s been lurking around for three months.

“You said you were working when you met headless guy,” I growl, sick of this half malarkey. I’m still looking down Annie’s barrel, and I feel an overwhelming urge to reciprocate.

“That was just a little extra on the side. I got slightly bored…stalkingyou. Your double life is not as enjoyable to observe as I thought.”

Fucker! “My family would enjoy observing you, though. You don’t mind if I invite them here, right?” I grab my phone from my pants pocket. It’s time to contact Rami.

He tilts his head to the side, giving me another empty stare. “I’m afraid I can’t tonight. Two questions left.”

“You didn’t answer my first yet.” He’s a crafty asshole, but growing up with Raph I learned how to recognize all the half-truths hidden among the horseshit.

“I was doing a recon to see what you were all up to. Don’t you do the same with your donors?”

“To kidnap and kill them without repercussions,” I clip.