Page 29

“His bedroom is upstairs, far in the west wing, last room on the right,” I reminded them.

My research had provided me with a detailed blueprint of the mansion, along with the headcount of Xenos’s security team.

“There should be one more guy up there,” I said as we headed up the stairs.

“Let me get him.” Iason lifted his chin and led the way, eager for more blood. I smiled as I climbed the stairs after him, grateful for his friendship, loyalty, and fierceness.

The last guard between us and Xenos didn’t even hear us coming. Iason slit his throat, taking him out from behind before he could even whimper with pain .

I was surprised. I’d always imagined that Xenos would have the best security team money could buy, but every one of his men had failed him, and he was about to discover that painful fact personally.

“That was efficient,” I murmured, as we positioned ourselves in front of the door he had been guarding. He lay bleeding out at our feet, and we stepped over him.

“Too easy, honestly,” Iason joked. “I was hoping for a little more fun.”

“You’re evil, Iason. You think he’s sleeping?” I asked, jutting my chin toward the door.

“A fat, old fuck like that? Hell yeah, he is,” Iason replied, shaking his head.

“Cover me,” I said as I retrieved the pre-loaded syringe from my pocket. Removing the cap, I gripped it firmly in my hand while Iason quietly opened the door.

We were met with darkness. A dim night light in the corner offered minimal illumination. The sound of Xenos’s snoring resonated loudly in the silence.

I shrugged and quietly walked in, heading straight for the bastard’s bed.

His round belly protruded toward the ceiling as he lay on his back, his mouth wide open as he languished in sleep.

I stared down at him for a quick second. It would be so easy to slit his throat, put a bullet through his brain, or any other number of ways to eliminate his black soul from this earth.

I was so very fucking tempted. It would make things a lot easier and be much simpler just to kill him here and leave and let someone else figure out how these assholes had expired.

But I’d made a promise.

And I wasn’t about to break a promise to Calista.

I pushed the needle into Xenos’s neck, watching as his breath quickened and then slowed drastically. I waited a few seconds, then grabbed his hand and lifted it, letting it drop to his side.

He didn’t wake up.

He didn’t budge.

“It seems the midazolam did its job,” I observed, unable to hide my amusement.

“It’s never failed me before. All right, let’s bag him up now,” Iason said. I stepped back, letting Iason and the other men work. They lifted Xenos from the bed, slipping his limp body into a body bag before quickly zipping and locking it.

I stood back, watching with pleasure and satisfaction and itching with anticipation. Cali’s face flashed in my head, and I couldn’t wait to see the smile on her face when I delivered this asshole to her.

“Okay, we’re ready, Leon,” Iason said.

“Let’s all go through the back door,” I said. “I’ll go first and check to make sure the coast is clear.”

Just three minutes later, we returned to our cars and drove to the airport, where a jet was ready to take us to Zakynthos, an island near Patras.

There, one of my ships waited to complete the final transport of our package.

I couldn’t wait to deliver Xenos’s body, all wrapped up, to my beautiful bride .

All that was missing was a big red bow.

I smirked at the thought. If I’d thought of it sooner, I’d have arranged to have one made when I presented this bastard to Cali.

With all the transportation changes, the journey back to Elias’s estate in Patras lasted just over five hours.

Ozias was beginning to stir, slowly emerging from his drug-induced slumber.

Given the high dosage we had administered, there was a risk he could suffocate before our return, yet I took no action to avert this possibility.

If the old bastard was lucky, suffocation would be a blessing, considering what I had planned for him.

The sun peered over the horizon, casting golden beams that danced on the water’s surface.

Our boat sliced through the gentle waves, approaching the sandy shore.

I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and quickly typed a message to Elias.

A moment later, I saw him jogging down the dock, his brow furrowed and a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Thanks for meeting me,” I said, greeting him halfway down the dock. I gestured behind me to the boat.

“What happened?” Elias asked.

“I have your father secured on the boat,” I responded, glancing at the dock where the vessel swayed in the morning light. “I was hoping you could assist us in getting him into your house.”

His gaze sharpened for a brief moment, revealing his surprise, before he stepped back, the wooden planks of the pier creaking beneath his weight.

“I apologize for not informing you earlier,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I couldn’t risk him finding out somehow.”

“You think I’d be the one to tell the bastard?” Elias snapped, his brows furrowing.

“No, not at all,” I reassured him quickly, raising my hands in a placating gesture. “But one small slip through the cracks would have been all it took to derail my plan.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, searching my face for answers.

“I know he’s your father, Elias,” I said, my tone firm yet sympathetic. “I hope you don’t mean to get in the way. I’m doing this for Calista. The man who caused all her pain needs to pay for what he’s done. There’s no way around it.”

Elias looked out toward the horizon, the morning sun casting a gentle warmth over his troubled expression. He gradually shook his head, letting out a deep sigh.

“I won’t interfere,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “My father made his choices. Every man must suffer the consequences of their actions. It doesn’t matter who he is.”

“Thank you, Elias,” I said, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “I appreciate your understanding.”

“He’s a fucking prick,” he said, shrugging. “As far as I’m concerned, he deserves whatever you plan to do.”

“Let’s do this.” I turned back toward the boat, raising my hand in a signal to my men. Alex and the others quickly lifted Xenos, who thrashed and squirmed inside the bag, his muffled shouts and curses echoing in the crisp morning air, but we remained silent.

“We’ll go through the tunnels. No one will see us, just my early morning vineyard workers, and they are beyond loyal,” Elias said, leading the way to a small door near the dock.

We descended a dark staircase, the air thickening as we stepped into a long maze of tunnels beneath the property. The corridors stretched out, enveloped in darkness, interrupted only by our footsteps and Xenos’s muted cries, a reminder of our tense situation.

After a few moments of careful walking, we reached another door.

Elias rummaged through his keys, the jangling sound loud in the stillness, and unlocked the heavy door.

It swung open to reveal a well-lit series of hallways that stretched east, their sterile atmosphere stark against the earthy musk from the previous tunnels.

Rounding a corner, Elias abruptly opened another door, revealing a stairway. We climbed and emerged into a vast, open barn. I scanned the expansive space, my gaze trailing over the rafters above and the crevices allowing beams of sunlight to filter through.

“This way,” Elias instructed, his voice hushed as we navigated past empty wooden stalls. We turned a corner, and he pressed his shoulder against another door, shoving it open.

“Put him in here,” he ordered, leaving me standing frozen at the threshold.

The stale scent of rusted metal and antiseptic tickled my nostrils.

In the center sat a solitary steel chair, its leather straps hanging open like waiting arms. Thick iron cuffs protruded from the concrete floor, their chains clinking softly.

Along one wall, instruments glinted: electric cattle prods, a tangle of braided whips, and coils of hemp rope.

A rack held rows of curved knives and serrated machetes. My pulse sped.

By the far corner stood a stainless-steel surgical table, its surface polished to a cruel gleam. A slow, grim smile spread across my lips. I pointed.

“There,” I said. “Tie him to the table.”

Two of my men dragged Xenos into the chamber. The canvas bag slipped from his head, revealing bloodshot eyes and a desperate tremor in his chin.

Spotting Elias and me side by side, he bellowed, “You bastards!”

His words slurred, head lolling. Before he could struggle, Iason yanked a leather ball gag from a nearby tray and forced it between his teeth.

I walked up to him, watching as they tied him to the table despite his weak attempt at struggling. He was still under the influence of drugs and was practically as weak as a newborn.

I approached as they buckled Xenos’s wrists to the table clamps. His fingers thrashed weakly. His breath came in ragged gasps, the residue of sedatives slackening his limbs.

Elias’s voice cut through the quiet drip of water from a loose pipe. “What’s the plan?”

I met his gaze. “I’ll kill him. But first, I’m telling Cali. She can watch me finish this.”

Elias nodded, his eyes darting to his father’s bound form. His grief and hatred for the man before us filled the room with a thick electric tension, ready to spark. I waited a few moments, watching Elias, until he lifted his gaze to mine.

“So be it. His suffering doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to Calista. We give her what she wants.”

Then, without another word, he nodded once, turned, and left the room, letting the door swing shut behind him and leaving me to set up for the event ahead.

My team and I spread old tarps under the table, their plasticky rustle filling the silence. We arranged scalpels, saws, needles, and vials of clear liquid. Each tool landed on the surface with a familiar click.