Page 79 of Isabela

My lips twitch because it doesn’t bother me at all when he says it. I know he’s trying to pull information from Elijah.

“Everyone knew Miriam would never give me the company outright,” Elijah mutters. There’s pain clouding his gaze, which makes sense because Gael is getting ready to start on his hands. “If I controlled the company for Isabela until she turned twenty-five, then no one would blink an eye. Well, not much anyway. I was never very close with her parents.”

“You’re a sexist bigot,” I retort. “Mom knew that, that's why she never told you anything about my life.”

“You were such an odd child,” Elijah spits out. He groans as Gael picks up his hand and slowly pulls his fingernail out.

“Yes, please keep talking shit about Isabela. See how well that goes for you,” Gael says sarcastically.

Elijah curses at us both, and Gael shrugs and moves to the tray. He’s wearing black gloves and moves to a blow torch.

“Keep talking, or I’m going to run this over the bottoms of your feet, asshole,” Gael says, showing him the blow torch.

“How far does the money laundering go?” I ask. “It looks as if it started this year, so what are these men promising you? How fucked are you if you stop doing what they want?”

“They’re running a third of their illegal drug money through us,” Elijah says with a shrug. “They need us more than we need them. It’s helping me pay off my debts.”

“Who do you owe money to?” Gael asks.

Elijah lists several high stakes criminals that he owes money to due to gambling, taking my breath away. Gael pushes a bottle of water into my hands, his gaze brooking no argument as I twist off the top and take a sip.

The next few hours fly by as I find out how immoral my uncle was. He’s missed processing payroll correctly several times this year, because he didn’t have the money to cover people’s salaries, therefore causing internal problems within the company.

I’m surprised people haven’t quit yet to be honest. Fuck, I’m going to have to talk to the entire company to apologize and find a way to move forward after I meet with the board.

Gael has systematically broken Elijah. His bones, his pride, and he pissed himself when Gael burned the bottoms of his feet. I almost lost it when he did that, but I managed to keep it together. The smell of burnt flesh still hovers in the air, making me swallow thickly.

Gael hands me a container of vapor rub ointment, wincing at my plight. “It doesn’t bother me anymore, but put a little of this under your nose. You won’t be able to smell him anymore. We’re almost done, Isa. You’re doing great,” he praises me.

I quickly do as he suggests, sighing in gratitude as my sense of smell is filled with the scent of peppermint. Much better.

“It’s just about time to end all of this, Isa. He’s fading, and we want him to know who is sending him to Hell,” he says. Standing, I nod, biting my lip.

“Is there a certain way I need to do this?” I ask him.

“Up close and personal,” Gael grunts. “Knife through the ribs, into the carotid artery, or gunshot to the head. Your choice.”

Following him to the tray, I weigh my options. “What if I get stuck on his ribs?” I ask him. I want this to be a clean kill.

“I’ll show you how to push the knife in, Isa. Here are some gloves,” he says. I put the black gloves on quickly before picking up the knife and returning to where Elijah is hanging.

“You can’t be serious,” he groans. “You couldn’t kill a fly.”

He must be delirious, because I told him I’d killed Charles. Glancing at Gael, he nods as he moves to help me position the knife. Elijah has long lost his shirt, and is only wearing his urine sodden boxers. Gael branded the word “Liar” into his back, which is when he really screamed and managed to pass out.

Gael merely filled up a bucket with ice and water and threw it at him to wake him up before he electrocuted him with the rod for daring to pass out. I’m equal parts turned on and horrified, but only at myself because my pussy is wet.

“You’re going to push at this angle, straight to his heart, beautiful. He’s too weak to fight you too much. Ready?” Gael asks.

Taking a cleansing breath, I nod, pushing the knife into Elijah’s skin. The sharp blade slides in like butter, and I barely have to fight to shove it into his heart.

The hilt is held tightly in my hand as the blood flows over it. Elijah’s pained groan is the last thing I hear before a gurgling rattle.

His body sags as the last of his breath expels from it, and I know that at least one part of my nightmare is over.

“You did so good,” Gael whispers in my ear. “It’s done and he’s gone. Pull the knife out and let’s go get cleaned up so we can go home. Welcome to the Society. You’re where you've always belonged.”

It’s true, I think as I pull out the knife. If I had gone to live with Harrison Travers and his wife, I’d have known about the Society a lot sooner. Life is what it is, and now I’ve avenged my parents and myself. Walking with Gael to drop the knife in the tray, I let him pull off the gloves along with his own and we wash our hands.

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