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Chapter 843:
“You touched the one thing in this world you were never allowed to touch,” Cole said, enunciating every single syllable.
He brought the burning cherry of the cigar closer to her face. The intense heat radiated against her skin, stopping less than half an inch from her right eye. Her eye watered violently from the heat, but she was too paralyzed by terror to blink or pull away.
Cole shoved her face aside and straightened. He looked at the hitman.
“Cancel the lethal injection,” he ordered coldly. “But the psychological terror? The complete destruction of her identity? Execute it. Make sure she watches every second of her life burning to the ground p>
Alycia’s brain processed the sentence. A blood-curdling, inhuman shriek ripped from her lungs. She scrambled wildly on her hands and knees, slipping on her own blood, trying to crawl toward the broken front door.
Two massive mercenaries stepped forward. They grabbed her by the arms, lifting her off the floor like a ragdoll, then slammed her face-down onto the marble and pinned her arms painfully behind her back.
о𝘳𝗀а𝗻i𝘇𝖾 𝘺о𝘶𝗿 𝗹і𝖻r𝘢𝗿𝘆 𝗈𝗇.с𝘰𝘮
The hitman, desperate to survive the night, let a flash of resigned cruelty cross his eyes. He remained completely silent as he reached down to his tactical belt and drew the serrated military combat knife—the exact blade he had sharpened for June.
He walked over to the struggling woman, grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair, and yanked her head back, exposing her face.
Alycia thrashed wildly. Her spine arched, her vocal cords tearing as she screamed. The physical terror in her eyes reached the absolute limit of human endurance.
The freezing steel of the blade pressed flat against her cheek.
The hitman did not hesitate. He pressed down and dragged the knife hard across her skin. The blade sliced deep into the tissue, and a thick line of crimson opened from her cheekbone all the way down to her jawline. Blood welled up at once, spilling over her skin and dripping onto the expensive silk of her nightgown.
The agony was blinding. Alycia let out a piercing, high-pitched wail that vibrated against the glass windows, her body convulsing in shock.
The hitman shifted his grip, brought the knife up, and slashed down across the other side of her face, creating a jagged, asymmetrical cross. He completely destroyed the beautiful, innocent mask she had used to manipulate the world.
Alycia’s body seized. The mixture of hot tears and thick blood coated her face, turning her features into a grotesque, mangled nightmare.
Through her shattered, bloody lips, she began to spit venom. She cursed Cole. She cursed June. She screamed that they would rot in hell.
Cole didn’t hear a word of it. He simply raised a hand and gave his assistant a short, sharp signal to proceed to the next phase.
The hitman wiped the bloody knife on his pants and slid it back into its sheath, then stepped back, his face devoid of emotion. Cole’s assistant came forward, opening a heavily encrypted laptop, and angled the bright screen directly into Alycia’s bleeding face.