Page 29 of Kill for a Kiss

Labs burn hotter than mansions. And I’ll make sure the ashes spell Elle’s name. But this isn’t just about saving her anymore. This is about making sure Clo never does this to anyone again. Not Elle. Not Stanley. Not me.Ever.

I push away from the table and stand, stretching my shoulders. I grab my weapons—my silent string, my sharp knives—and head for the door. It’s time to tear her empire apart. Clo has no idea what’s coming.

***

The city blurs past in streaks of neon and darkness as I speed toward the lab to do some recon. The Valkyrie vibrates beneath my hands, its tires gripping the pavement with the sort of aggression I feel burning in my chest.

My mind is sharp, clear. I have a plan. I have a target. But before I throw myself into this, there’s one thing I need to know.

I tap the console on my dash, dialing the only contact I trust.

My contact scoffs through the speaker. “Twice in one day? This better be good.”

“Pull up security feeds. I need eyes on Elle.”

There’s a chuckle on the other end. “Now,that’snew. You don’t ask about people, rookie. You ask for bodies to bury.”

I grit my teeth. “Get to it.”

Keys clack in the background. “Hmm, interesting. Looks like your girl is heading back to the old family home. She’s with someone onhis bike. Oh, he just did a trick. Pretty impressive.”

I can’t stop my eyes from rolling. I press harder on the gas, the engine snarling. “How does she look?”

There’s a smirk in their voice. “You’re really asking that?”

I don’t answer.

They laugh. “She’s fine, rookie. Alive.”

I almost ask if she looks happy. But I stop myself. My grip tightens around the wheel.

The contact sighs. “You sure you don’t want me to keep an eye on her?”

I hang up before the other end can say anything else.

The road stretches ahead, empty, waiting. The lab is my first target, my first strike. But Elle is my first priority. I make a silent promise as I drive, the city lights casting shadows across my hands.I’ll be back for you, Elle.

7

Elle

After the day out, my mind feels different, cleared somehow, like something inside me finally let go.

The mansion glows in the late evening light, quiet and still, as if it’s waiting for me to step back inside. When I do, I see it differently now. It feels more like home.

I stare at the grand staircase. It curves upward with its polished steps catching the chandelier’s shimmer. The railing is intricate, like twisted vines.

I drift forward slowly, the hall stretching ahead. Every door looks the same. The whole place feels suspended, yet the silence wraps around me like a familiar kind of hush. There are paintings. Portraits in golden frames, landscapes tucked into corners, all arranged perfectly. The faces inside them don’t smile. Their eyes don’t blink. But I still feel them watching as I pass.

Some are beautiful. Others make me stop and stare. They all have a signature of a cursiveJon the bottom left, hardly noticeable.

Then I hear footsteps behind me. It’s Stan. He parked the bike while I walked ahead. Now, his presence moves in behind me.

“You’re not about to disappear on me now, are you?” His voicecarries across the hallway, sounding amused.

I turn, and I see him fully, with that smile of his, casual and crooked.

His mouth curves into a smirk. “Like what you see, Elle?”