Page 98 of Scarlet Mark

“E-everything… happens… for… a reason,” he managed on an exhale, his lips turning blue from the oxygen deprivation. “I… you… success.”

“I am who I am because of my own decisions, not because of what you’ve done to me,” I said, tired of him claiming my life as if he’d orchestrated every piece of it. And maybe he had, but fuck, I survived because ofme,not him. I thrived because of Killian. Amir merely put pieces in place, pieces thathurt, and watched me overcome them. That made him a monster, not a master creator.

His lips curled. “Per… fection.” His eyes closed, his breath shuddering out of him. I waited for another inhale, but none came. The look of serenity on his face unsettled me, yet pleased me at the same time.

He’d accepted his fate.

And… died.

Without tricks, without protests, just a semi-normal conversation underlined in pride.

“Amara?” Killian murmured, his voice a shock to my heart that I didn’t know I needed. It sent a wave of warmth through my chilly veins, awakening me from my stupor.

“He’s dead,” I replied. Or almost, anyway. It’d take a few more minutes for the cardiac arrest to complete, but even if he sought medical help now, he’d never be the same. And it was doubtful they could revive him.

I studied his face once more, noting the subtle similarities to my own that I missed before—the shape of his jaw, his nose, the color of his skin. I bore all those traits, and likely more.

My will to survive.

My intelligence.

My desire to defy expectations.

Amir possessed all of those in spades and, apparently, passed them on to me. But I owned my future, not him.

And now he could never touch me again.

I pushed away from the table, purse in hand, and headed outside.

“It’s done,” I said softly, more to myself than to Killian. A weight lifted from my shoulders, from my heart. I could finally move on. Live. Enjoy. Justbe.

“Where to next, kitten?” Killian asked as he joined me outside, his dark hair artfully windswept from being up on the other roof. He must have left his sniper rifle somewhere in the building, because his hands were empty.

“Wherever you want to go,” I replied, smiling.

“Cairo?” he suggested, eyebrows waggling. “I seem to recall you wanting to see the pyramids.”

I still did. Very much. “We’ll need new identities,” I warned.

“Not an issue. How do you feel about Scarlet Mark?”

I frowned. “Scarlet Mark?” That didn’t match any of his previous aliases.

He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me alongside him down the empty cobblestone street. “It’s a play on your first alias of Scarlet Rosalind. You were quite literally my Scarlet Mark.”

“And what would you go by?” I wondered, leaning into him.

“Dagger Mark, of course.”

“You really think people will believe that name?”

“Oh, kitten, haven’t you realized?” He glanced at me sideways. “Money buys you anything you want. Including sexy little dances from redheads with tattoos in a nightclub.”

My skin heated at the reminder of our first night together. The danger and intrigue, the pure sex radiating between us. “Are you requesting a follow-up?” I asked, my voice dropping to a sultry purr I knew he liked.

“Without the ketamine this time, yes.”

“Okay, Sir Bedivere,” I replied, smiling up at him. “I think Scarlet Mark would be happy to oblige.”