Page 173 of I'm sorry, Princess

Thomas shakes, trembling so violently the chair rattles against the floor. And then he blurts it out, desperate, clinging to life with words.

“Is this about the girl?” His voice is hoarse. “The girl who died?” His eyes widen, frantic. “I didn’t know! I swear I didn’t know they were going to do that to her! I swear!”

My blood runs cold.

What fucking girl?

Behind the glass, I straighten, my pulse thundering in my ears. Lev freezes, too, hammer still poised, and even Andres, silent, steady Andres, shifts his weight, his eyes narrowing.

Thomas’s chest heaves, tears streaking through the grime on his face. “I can pay you!” he babbles, panic twisting every word. “Please! I didn’t know they were going to kill her!”

I grip the steel ledge so tight my knuckles ache. My gut twists.

What the fuck did he do?

Andres already has Thomas’s phone cracked open on the table, screens glowing with encrypted files. His fingers fly across the keys, his jaw tight.

“Every file’s locked,” he mutters without looking up. “Layers on layers of passwords. Give me time, I’ll peel them all off. But it’s a fucking maze.”

Time. That’s the one thing I don’t have. Every second I stand here, my blood burns hotter, my patience thinner. I want answers now.

Lev leans into Thomas, his head lolling forward, sweat sliding down the lines of his face, dripping into the collar of his ruined shirt. Lev twirls a hammer like it’s a toy, grinning like the devil himself.

“Tell me the whole story,” he hisses, voice coated with mock amusement. “And maybe I’ll let you choose, slow death or fast.”

Thomas shakes his head violently, eyes wild, his words tumbling out in a broken rush. “There’s not much I know. I swear. The girl I gave them… she was found, she was,” his throat catches, “mutilated. I didn’t know they’d do that to her. I didn’t know! Please, please, I can pay you, I’ll pay you whatever you want!”

Lev flicks a look over at Andres, eyebrows raised. Andres doesn’t even pause his typing, just gives the smallest nod. Useless to me right now, but noted.

A groan cuts through my thoughts. John stirs in his chair, his head lolling before his swollen eyes force themselves open. He blinks once. Twice. Then his gaze lands on Thomas’s ruined hand, the blood soaking through the gray fabric of his suit. His face drains of color.

“Are you… are you from the Organization?” John’s voice cracks, his fear impossible to hide even as he tries to steel it.

Organization? The word slices through me like glass. What the fuck are they talking about?

Lev crouches down, smirk sharp and poisonous. “We’ll pay you,” John blurts, desperate now, his words tumbling over themselves. His eyes flick toward me, then away, then back again. He knows. He just doesn’t know how much I know.

Lev leans in, dropping the grin. His voice turns cold, a blade instead of a joke. “I don’t need your filthy money, Archibald. I need answers.”

John swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looks at Thomas like a drowning man reaching for a lifeboat. Thomas gives him the faintest nod with his bloodied head, and John exhales, beaten.

“I don’t know what he told you,” John begins, voice trembling. “But it was business as usual. We didn’t know she was so young. We didn’t know who she was to them.” His eyes dart nervously toward the ceiling, as if expecting someone to crash through it. “When they showed us the body, Christ, I barely recognized her. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. It was a mistake. An accident. We can pay for the inconvenience.”

My vision darkens around the edges. Business. Mistake. Inconvenience. They throw these words around like bullets don’t shatter ribs, like blood doesn’t stain everything it touches.

I step closer, the Glock heavy and familiar against my palm. I don’t even need to raise it, but I do anyway, pressing the muzzle against John’s knee until he lets out a strangled sound.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” I murmur, my voice silk wrapped around steel. They both freeze, eyes fixed on me now. They know my face. They know exactly who I am.

I give Lev a nod. He straightens, grins one last time, then slams the hammer down on John’s fingers with a crack that echoes through the concrete walls. John screams, his voice ripping raw, while Thomas squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body trembling. Lev laughs low in his throat, winks at me, and strolls out, leaving the stench of blood and fear behind.

The room falls silent except for the sound of their ragged breathing. Perfect.

I circle them slowly, letting my shadow drag across their faces, letting them feel the weight of what’s coming. Then I speak, calm, deliberate.

“I’ll need some answers,” I say, my gaze slicing from one to the other. “I’m not a patient man. If you don’t give me what I want…” I tap the Glock against John’s jaw, watching him flinch. “…then I’ll make my own conclusions. And you won’t like how that ends.”

Above us, the faintest hum of comms. My snipers. Three red dots bloom across their chests, hovering like tiny burning eyes. A reminder. A promise.