Page 82 of Beautiful Vengeance

“I wish I wasn’t, believe me. But yes. Do you want me to tell Kiyomi once she’s up to it?”

“No. I’ll do it. I think it’ll be easier for her if it comes from me.”

Jesse was so smart. “If you change your mind, just let me know and I’ll do it.”

“I won’t, but thank you. I appreciate you calling me, Amber. I know it had to have been hard. Does Megan know?”

“She’s my next call, then Trinity.”

He grunted in acknowledgment. “I suppose she’s going to be extradited?”

The Architect. Amber couldn’t bring herself to think of her as Aunt Jane anymore. She was an inhuman monster. A stain on humanity. “Looks that way.”

He sighed. “Alright. You’ll call if anything else comes up?”

“Of course. Keep us posted on Kiyomi.”

“I will. She’ll want to be involved with the investigation as soon as they let her out. When are the rest of you meeting Trinity at the facility?”

“Tomorrow sometime.” And it couldn’t come soon enough for Amber. The death penalty was too easy for this monster. For a narcissistic freak show like the Architect, a lifetime sentence in a max security facility spent in solitary isolation seemed a more fitting sentence.

That bitch had stolen everything from them, and Amber was going to ensure everything was taken from her in turn.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Janelle leaned back in the plastic chair to await her next visitor. They wanted her to be uncomfortable, but if it weren’t for the pain in her newly repaired shoulder, she was as comfortable here in this interrogation room as she would have been in her own living room.

The bright lights, cuffs and chains didn’t bother her in the slightest, and there was no way the people holding her would allow any kind of torture. It was laughable, really, all of them standing behind the two-way mirror right now, watching her in her orange jumpsuit as they tried to figure out how to break her.

All five agents they’d sent in so far had gotten nothing from her, including Alex Rycroft, someone she had a modicum of respect for.

It didn’t matter who they sent in. No one would get anything out of her that she didn’t want to give.

They could interrogate her all they wanted. She wouldn’t be here that much longer anyhow. She still had a few soldiers coming for her. They were loyal to her not only because she paid them disgusting amounts of money, but because they were afraid not to be. They’d seen how she neutralized traitors and threats on the periphery, like Glenn Bennett.

The single door to the room opened. She didn’t move, didn’t show any hint of reaction at all as Trinity and her two nieces came in. But inside, she smiled.

Finally. Someone interesting and worthy to challenge me.

Except just the sight of them stirred the rage and resentment she’d fought her entire life to control. They looked too much like her sainted dead sister. The golden child Janelle had never been able to live up to in their parents’ eyes.

Trinity stood in front of the two-way mirror and folded her arms, her stiff posture due to more than anger. She was injured, though Janelle couldn’t tell where.

Janelle switched her focus to her nieces as Amber and Megan approached the table. They sat in the chairs opposite her, their expressions as blank as hers. Except she knew the truth.

No matter how well they hid it, they were angry and confused. That didn’t bother her. If things had gone according to plan this morning, they would both be dead right now instead of about to attempt interrogating her.

Amber sat back and folded her arms, the defensive posture screaming her uneasiness, those green eyes so like her own as hard as glass. “I’m not even gonna ask you about what your plans were, because I already know.”

Janelle didn’t react. Even if they did know about her plans, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t over. Not nearly. And with Kiyomi wounded, she was at her most vulnerable. Easy pickings as soon as Janelle found her.

“What Idowant to know is, how you can stomach looking at yourself in the mirror.”

Beneath her cool exterior, Janelle’s temper flared. Twenty-five years ago, she had been a near spitting image of Amber. Not as classically beautiful as Kiyomi, but pretty enough to make men lose their heads—literally. She’d aged well. Far better than most women her age, helped along by a skilled plastic surgeon in Miami.

“You’re too old to do the work anymore, so you wanted to control others to do it for you. And now you’ve been defeated,” Megan added, her hazel eyes cold as ice. “By the very people you used and discarded. That must hurt like a fucking bitch for someone with an ego as big as yours.”

Janelle stared into those frigid eyes, refusing to allow the taunt to bother her. She was the original Valkyrie. The Program had been her idea, and she’d volunteered to be the first test subject. Experience had shown her that women made the best operatives—because men continually underestimated them.

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