Chapter 808
The next morning, the air was thick with humidity. I found Bennett in the garden, smoking a cigarette. He looked relaxed, staring out at the ocean.
“Beautiful view,” he said without turning. “Alistair is a lucky man.”
“He worked for it,” I said, stopping a few feet away. “Something you wouldn’t understand.”
He turned, dropped the cigarette, and crushed it with his heel. “You think I’m just a corporate suit? You have no idea what I’ve done to keep the Hayes family afloat, Skye.”
“I know you’re not here for the family,” I said. I was done pretending.
J𝗼𝗶n оu𝘳 со𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻і𝗍у 𝗈n g𝖺l𝗇𝗼𝘷𝘦𝗅𝘴.𝘤о𝗺
He froze. Then he smiled. A slow, predatory smile. “Took you long enough.”
“Who are you really?”
“Does it matter?” He stepped closer. “I’m the guy who can offer you a lifeboat. This ship is sinking, Skye. Alistair is a target. The Syndicate wants him dead. The Architect wants the data.”
“And you work for them.”
“I work for the highest bidder,” he shrugged. “Right now, that’s the Architect. But I like you. You’ve got fire. Alistair treats you like a possession. I could treat you like a partner.”
“Liam tried that line,” I said dryly. “It didn’t work for him either.”
“Liam is a fool,” he scoffed. “He had a queen and he treated her like a pawn. I know your worth.”
He reached out, his hand brushing my arm. It was meant to be seductive. It felt like a snake coiling around me.
“Get your hands off her.”
Alistair stood on the terrace. He leaned on a cane—a new addition—but he looked terrifying. His eyes burned with a cold, black rage.
“Relax, Thorne,” Bennett said, backing off. “Just having a conversation.”
“You don’t converse with my wife.” Alistair didn’t shout. He didn’t run. He just lifted his cane and pointed it at the man’s chest. “You don’t look at her. You don’t breathe the same air as her.”
“Or what?” Bennett sneered. “You’re a cripple right now. You can’t stop me.”
“Lucian,” Alistair said softly.
A red laser dot appeared on Bennett’s forehead. Then another on his chest.
“Snipers,” Alistair said. “Two of them. They’ve been tracking you since you stepped onto the grass.”
Bennett paled. He raised his hands slowly.
Victoria came running out of the house. “What is going on? Why are there red lights on Bennett?”
“He’s not on our side, Victoria,” I said. “He’s the enemy.”
“Ask him,” Alistair challenged. “Ask him something only a Hayes would know. Ask him about the summer house in 2005.”
Victoria looked at him, her face unreadable. “Bennett? What happened at the Vineyard house that year? The fire.”
Bennett hesitated. His eyes darted around. “Vicky, this is ridiculous. They’re brainwashing you. It was… electrical. We all know that.”
Victoria stared at him. Then a cold, haughty smile curled her lips. It wasn’t the smile of a victim. It was the smile of a Hayes.
“Wrong answer, darling,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “We didn’t own the Vineyard house in 2005. We bought it in 2008. You really didn’t do your homework, did you?”
Bennett’s face changed. The charm evaporated. He grabbed Victoria, yanking her in front of him as a human shield. He pulled a gun from his waistband—a small, compact pistol he must have smuggled in.
“Nobody shoot!” he yelled. “Or the princess gets it!”
“Let her go,” Alistair commanded, his voice steady.
“I need a car!” Bennett shouted. “And the drive! The real USB drive! Now!”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said.
“Give me the drive or I blow her brains out!” He pressed the gun to Victoria’s temple.
“Okay,” I said, raising my hands. “Okay. I’ll get it.” I looked at Alistair. Trust me.
I walked toward them, slowly. “It’s in my pocket. The USB.”
“Toss it,” he ordered.
I reached into my pocket. I pulled out a silver USB stick. It was a blank drive I kept for transferring music.
“Catch,” I said.
I threw it. Not at him, but high into the air, toward the cliff edge.
Instinct is a funny thing. Greed is funnier.
For a split second, Bennett’s eyes followed the silver arc of the drive. He shifted his aim.
That was all Alistair needed.
He didn’t need to run. He just needed to signal.
Crack.
A single shot rang out from the roof.
The gun in Bennett’s hand exploded. The sniper had shot the weapon right out of his grip.
He screamed, clutching his mangled hand. Victoria didn’t scramble away in fear. She shoved him hard, sending him stumbling, then dusted off her dress.
“Filthy amateur,” she muttered.
Lucian and Liam tackled the man before he could hit the ground.
I walked over to the cliff edge and picked up the USB stick from the grass where it had landed.
“Hardware failure,” I said.