Page 38 of Unleash Hades (Ungoverned Spaces #5)

Calissandra

T he cold metal touched my forehead, as I looked beyond the matte black gun, past the hand that held it, to the black sleeve of his suit jacket… to him .

The man who had tormented my life for two and a half decades.

“Oh, Darling,” he said with that false gentleness that had once fooled a younger, stupider version of myself. “Don’t look so distraught. You and I can get past anything, after all.”

Fat chance.

But still, I had to play my part.

“Of course, we can, Darling.” The habit to lie was ingrained so deep that I almost wanted to touch him, and comfort his paranoia. I had been trained and groomed for this sick, disastrous act. The one that placated the Devil until I lost everything. “After all, we have too much to lose.”

He did smile. It was a genuine one, too. The kind that made my skin crawl.

“That’s why I love you Calissandra,” he said, in that insipid voice. “You are as selfish as I am. We’re like Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine.”

This nonsense again. The Lion in fucking Winter. That insipid movie.

“Remus is my favorite, and Romulus is yours,” he continued to wax poetic, as the phone remained silent in my hand. “We battle, and scheme to see which son will end up on the throne, but in the end, we remain as one.”

That last bit was the greatest lie of all.

The one that had poisoned me from the inside, rotting my core and breaking me little by little. We were not one. I was not his bride, his partner, his fellow schemer in this chess game. Consent had never played any part of this madness.

“Let the boys go,” I said, as I came to my feet. “Let the darlings go. You know they have nothing to do with this game of ours.”

A game of life and death.

“But then where would my leverage be? Darling, do you think I’m stupid?”

“No! Of course not,” I tried to smile, even as my knees threatened to buckle beneath me. “I had to try.”

A Lion in Winter.

That was his idea of a romance. A woman imprisoned, and a man who cheats. So I channeled my inner Katherine Hepburn, and looked haughty and unaffected.

“Let the boys go,” I scoffed, as I stared at our sons, pathetically on their knees, their hands bound in front of them. “Look at them. They’re not equipped for this battle. It’ll just ruin our fun, darling.”

I saw the twitch in Richard’s mouth. The one that sickened me, because it meant that he was pleased.

“No,” he said, his amused eyes turning back to me. “I have the gun, and all the power, love. As fun as it would be to wrestle you for control, and eventually leave you bleeding on the rug… I just can’t see the point.”

Bright light slanted inward, as a door silently opened.

“I see the point,” another voice called from the shadows, as a gold copper-toned fabric materialized, before the man wearing it could be seen. “I think you should let the boys and the wife come with me.”

Bellamy had a gun in his hand. It was a pistol with a long barrel, though for the life of me, I could not figure out what it was.

The cold metal left my forehead, and pivoted to point at the middle of Bellamy’s chest as the door swung closed behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Richard demanded, annoyed that someone was getting in the way of his family fun.

“I’m looking for my story partner, of course,” Bellamy said, tilting his head to the side.

Without his ascot and tuxedo jacket, he was right. He was almost unrecognizable in a somewhat respectable orange-gold shirt. No stitching, no tuxedo, scarf or ascot.

“You know how it is, don't you, Richard? You start an investigation with a partner, and you take responsibility for them.” His nose wrinkled with amusement. “You don’t leave a comrade behind, darling. That’s the Laurent family way.”

That was a bullshit line that we used on new journalists to make them feel safe. Welcome to the Laurent Family. But under Richard, that was an absolute lie.

The two of them pointed a gun at one another, their eyes focused and fingers on the trigger.

“Bellamy,” I whispered, as I fought the urge to run to my boys and shield them with my body.

“Let the three of them come with me,” Bellamy said.

“There’s no need for violence, Richard.” He aimed his weapon where Richard’s heart should have been.

“And as you know, I hate violence in all its forms. Can’t stand the sight of blood, you see?

It makes me positively quake with fear! Look at me, barely holding steady. ”

Despite his words, Bellamy showed no signs of instability. His aim was true, and eyes full of certainty. Like his body was possessed by an entirely different being.

“No,” Richard said, and I saw it all happen in slow motion.

The way his mind turned, and his arm tensed. If I did not do anything, then that tension would seep into his forearm, down to his hand, to his finger, and launch a bullet into Bellamy. Bellamy would shoot back, and one, or both, of them would end up dead.

Death was too good for Richard.

Especially an easy death.

“Just let the boys go, Richard,” I said, coming to my feet. “I’ll stay, and we’ll talk.”

I tried to smile, pushing the tension from my shoulders.

“Just like Hepburn and Peter O’Toole,” I stepped between the guns, standing in the crossfire. “What do you say, Richard?”

I slinked towards my husband. Confidence. Seduction… this was just a game that he and I played. A high-stakes, exciting game that kept us together.

That’s what it was.

Yes. Just a game.

I had gained ground because of Bellamy, and the ball was now in my court.

I could save my boys.

“Bellamy will take the boys, and it’ll just be you and me,” I said, as sweetly as I could.

Then I did something that was brazen, even for me.

I let my French accent seep into my voice.

The one he couldn’t resist. The one every mistress was required to have.

“ C’est mieux, comme-ca, oui? It’s better just the two of us. ”

“Cali,” Bellamy’s voice was laced with concern.

He wasn’t going to back my play, but I lifted a shushing finger towards him.

“ Oui!” I commanded. “You’ll take the boys, and leave our… domestic issues to us.” We were a united front, after all, my husband and I. “Isn’t that right, darling ?”

Richard’s eyes darted towards me, and the boys, and Bellamy. Then he did the circuit again, his eyes nervous, but assured. Like a narcissist, he was still confident when he was caught.

But I took advantage of his hesitance, stepping in front of Richard’s barrel, touching it to my chest, holding the barrel in my fist.

Shoot me. Not them. Kill me, and not the boys. The boys have too much to live for.

“Take the boys,” I repeated, turning my head a little towards Bellamy, just so that he knew that I was talking to him. “Take them now. ”

“Cali… I will do this, but when I am called to the carpet, I will expect you to have my back, do you understand?”

I had no fucking clue what Bellamy was talking about but no matter.

“Yes,” I answered.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Bellamy reach out a hand to Romulus. With a quick motion, Rom’s binds came apart. Then Bellamy did the same to Remus.

“Come on, lad,” Bellamy said, tugging Rom to his feet. “You too, Remus.”

Remus stood up on his own accord, and the three shuffled out of the room as I maintained eye contact with my darling husband.

“Hmm,” he smiled. “You have always understood me, Cali.”

He took the barrel of the gun and lifted it, caressing the metal against my temple, then my cheek, down to my throat. I leaned into it as if it was a lover’s touch.

“I have,” I said, speaking truth, possibly for the first time, to my husband.

The door opened, and closed, and the three sets of footsteps disappeared. Safe. The boys were safe.

And I would follow Adelia to her grave.

I traced my finger along the barrel, over the sights, and down the safety, over Richard’s warm hand.

“I have always known you,” I said, smiling as my free hand reached out to touch Richard’s cheek. The tips of my fingers traced over his skin.

Bellamy would write the story needed to bring him down. Gavin would help him. Chloe would protect my boys. So would Hugo. My family was safe.

They no longer needed me. I could put an end to all my misery.

I traced over Richard’s cheek, to the growing stubble. Down to the corner of his mouth. With my index finger, I traced the pouted lower lip, pulling it down further to reveal his perfect, white teeth.

This was the mouth he had kissed me with on our wedding day. The same lips Adelia’s sons had inherited from him. How cruel that something so good could have come from something so wretched.

“But you never truly knew me, did you?” I whispered.

Richard’s brows knit together, even as he bit my index finger, taking it between his disgusting lips. It felt like the slobber of a dog’s mouth.

“I know you, darling,” he said, as he sucked my finger.

I shivered, in agitation.

“No! You don’t!” Truth would set me free. Death would also set me free. Because I knew that this was the end. “I hate A Lion in Winter.”

A gunshot cracked through the air, echoing in the empty space. Hot, red blood covered my eyes.

And it was all done.