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Chapter 842:
Cole pulled his leg back. His boot caught her in the shoulder. The force sent her sprawling into the edge of the marble coffee table with a sickening impact.
Cole looked down at her from the sofa.
“There are no police coming tonight, Alycia,” he said, his voice filling the large room. “There are no lawyers. There is only the hell you paid for p>
Alycia curled into a tight ball on the marble floor. She clutched her bruised ribs, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Cold sweat plastered her perfectly styled blonde hair to her tear-streaked cheeks.
Cole reached into the inner pocket of his tactical vest and pulled out a Cuban cigar. His assistant stepped forward at once, flicking open a windproof torch lighter.
Cole took a slow, deep drag. Thick blue-gray smoke drifted up toward the crystal chandelier, masking the terrifying, inhuman cruelty that had settled into his eyes.
He turned his head slightly and looked down at the hitman kneeling on the floor.
“Tell me,” Cole said, his voice as casual as if he were asking for the time. “What exactly were the parameters of the contract you accepted regarding my wife p>
The hitman swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He shot a terrified glance at Alycia before turning back to Cole.
𝘙𝖾𝗮𝘥 𝖿𝗋𝘰𝗺 yo𝘂r p𝗵о𝗻𝖾 o𝗻
“The client requested a full package,” he stammered, his voice rough. “Disfigurement of the face. Multiple-assailant sexual assault. And then a lethal injection of fentanyl to stage an overdose p>
The words hung in the air, vile and heavy.
Cole’s fingers clamped down on the cigar, squeezing so hard the tobacco leaves cracked. The knuckles of his hand turned a stark, bone-white. His chest tightened, and a physical wave of nausea hit him as he pictured June enduring that horror.
Alycia shook her head violently. She clawed at the floor, her voice pitching into a hysterical scream. “No! He’s lying! He’s making it up to save himself! Cole, you know me, I would never p>
Cole let out a short, dark laugh.
He nodded at his assistant, who pulled a micro digital voice recorder from his pocket and pressed play.
The audio had been pulled from the dark web server. It was heavily distorted by a voice changer, but the cadence, the specific inflections, and the arrogant tone were unmistakably Alycia’s.
“I want her face ruined. Cut her deep. Make sure you get the assault on video before you shoot her up. I want proof she died like trash p>
The recording clicked off.
Alycia’s screaming stopped instantly. Her mouth hung open, and a horrifying, wet wheeze escaped her throat. She looked like a fish dragged onto the deck, suffocating in the open air. The absolute proof had crushed her throat.
Cole stood. His heavy boots ground the broken champagne glass into powder as he walked slowly toward her.
He bent down. His large hand shot out, fingers digging brutally into Alycia’s jawline, and forced her head up until she was looking directly into his eyes.
There was zero human warmth left in Cole’s gaze. It was a black void.