Page 29 of Sardonic Burn

I freeze.

It’s my… information room.

At the moment, it’s filled with Hudson’s information. It’s spread across the walls, the monitors are filled with every single piece of CCTV footage of him I could find for research purposes, and, more recently, all of his sex partners, since the bastard was never in an actual relationship.

I need to know his weakness and use it against him.

But I can’t tell him that. The room isn’t only locked; it’s password-protected with a little explosive that is set to go off if anyone breaks in. The damage would be done on the person and the room, not the entire building.

“That’s irrelevant,” I drawl out, meeting his eyes. “It’s late. Stop wasting my time and tell me what the fuck you want from me.”

Hudson sighs.

His mask is slowly falling, despite his best efforts to keep it glued to his face. The annoyance, the hatred, and the need to see me bleed slowly start to resurface. The rougher my words, the closer I am to unveiling his mask.

“I’m assuming you haven’t talked to your father yet about what happened tonight.”

He’s right.

The attackers killed our drivers, too. Father drove me straight to Cecilia’s place, and although he did try to speak to me, I couldn’t listen to him. The plan was to visit him as soon as the sun rose; since I haven’t slept, it will have to wait.

“Not yet, no. Why?”

Hudson’s jaw clenches, and he nods. For the first time, that goddamn anger isn’t directed toward me, and I’m relieved.

“The attackers all shared one similarity – they’ve been previously in prison. Some had minor offenses, whereas others just got out on parole. Murderers. And in the past month, they’ve all received suspicious calls from the same number.”

I snort. “Let me guess, the number couldn’t be tracked?”

“Correct.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.”

“I was getting to that.” Hudson grins. “Ray and Henrick agreed that it would be best if the two of us handled this together.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I slam the glass on the counter too harshly. The glass shatters, and pieces of it remain in my hand. I don’t realize I’ve squeezed it until I feel a prickling sensation on my palm and then I release it.

“You don’t seem too happy about it.” He grins like an idiot. He’s enjoying torturing me like this. At this point, I wish he’d just kill me and get it over with so I wouldn’t have to suffer.

Hudson De Santis is a menace to society.

“No, no.” Sarcasm drips from my tongue. “I’m overjoyed. The next person on my hit list is the same person I’m supposed to be working with.”

“You have a hit list?” He blinks in disbelief.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“No!” Disbelief is written on his face, to which I just shrug my shoulders and start playing with the glass pieces to keep my hands busy. It’s my fault for not listening to my father during the car ride, but how could he do something like this without getting my input first?

“Listen, little De Santis–”

“I told you to fucking drop the nickname,” he threatens.

“Interrupt me again, and I will give your face a pretty scar.”

“You think my face is pretty? How flattering.”

Why the fuck is he grinning like an idiot?

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