Page 48 of Silent Schemes

The slap comes fast, but I see it coming.

I let it land because dodging would escalate things, and I need to get back.

Vincent's ring cuts my cheek, and I taste copper mixing with rain on my lips.

"Watch your tongue, girl. You're not irreplaceable. Maya's almost ready to take your place. Seventeen next month. Prime age for this kind of work."

The threat hits exactly as intended.

My baby sister, following in my footsteps, becoming what I am.

The thought makes me want to vomit. "Maya's too young."

"She's older than you were your first time." Vincent's eyes glitter with memories that make me want to shower in bleach. "Such a quick learner. So eager to please. And that face—she'll be even better at the seduction game than you."

"I'll get it done," I say, swallowing bile and pride in equal measure. "Varrick Bane will be dead within the week."

"Good girl." He pats my bleeding cheek with false gentleness, and I force myself not to recoil. "And Sienna? Next time you show up smelling like his cologne, I'll assume you've been compromised. We kill compromised assets. After we make themwatch their loved ones die first. Maya would be so disappointed to know her big sister failed her."

"Understood."

"Oh, and one more thing." He pulls out a small vial from his pocket, presses it into my hand. "Poison. Undetectable, untraceable. Works in twelve hours. Put it in his whiskey tomorrow night. Make sure you're seen publicly somewhere else when he drops. Your alibi needs to be airtight."

I pocket the vial, feeling its weight like a stone. "Tomorrow's too soon."

"Tomorrow's perfect. There's a charity gala. All of Vancouver's elite will be there. You dose him before, let him die very publicly. Send a message that even kings can fall." Vincent's smile is all teeth. "Your father's orders, not mine. Don't disappoint him, Sienna. You know what happens to disappointments in the Cross family."

I’m not killing him tomorrow.

There’s more I need from Varrick Bane, and I’m not done yet, but I won’t tell Vincent that.

I leave the first chance I get and drive back to the penthouse in silence, windows down despite the rain, trying to get Vincent's cigarette stench out of my clothes, my hair, my skin.

But I know it's useless.

Varrick will smell it the moment I walk in.

He noticeseverything—every new bruise, every missed meal, every nightmare that wakes me at 3 AM.

He probably already knows about the vial in my pocket, the deadline, the threat to Maya.

The city blurs past in streams of neon and shadow.

Vancouver at night is a different beast than during the day—all the monsters come out to play, and I'm one of them.

Or I used to be.

Now I'm not sure what I am.

Varrick's changing me, rewriting my code one touch at a time, and I can't seem to stop it.

The penthouse is dark when I arrive, but I know he's awake.

He doesn't sleep, remember?

Too many ghosts.

I wonder if I'll become one of them when this is over.