Page 6 of Deadly Rival

A couple of stone-age security cameras guard the gate, but hacking them took less than five minutes. They’ll show nothing but a blank screen on playback.

I slip through one of the loose sections, creep through shrubbery to the parking lot, and scan it from behind a bush.

One car. Ophelia’s custom dusky pink Mercedes. It’s a pretty car, exactly the sort of thing I’d imagine her driving, down to the cheesy numberplate—OC1.

I’m really fucking doing this.

I’ve dressed in a plain black long-sleeve and jeans, and my skin grows clammy in the warm breeze. Adrenaline heats mefrom the inside out as I take a careful look around, searching for anything that might cause me a problem.

The black asphalt parking lot gives way to grass and shrubbery on the side opposite me. Gardens for residents to take a stroll in, supposedly, though I’ve never seen anyone out and about. The facility has a shaded terrace at the back, and that’s where the nurses take the geriatrics for fresh air.

Groundskeepers, or staff taking a sneaky smoke break, are my biggest threat. Right now, all is clear, but that could change. I check my watch. Ten minutes until Ophelia usually makes her exit, though sometimes she lingers up to twenty minutes longer. She must love her nanny. If her upbringing was anything like mine, the nanny probably raised her.

Will Maida miss Ophelia’s visits? Will she wonder why she’s not coming anymore? My stomach wrenches as I imagine a sweet old woman, all dressed up, waiting for a visitor who doesn’t arrive. I’d bet my fucking life Ophelia’s asshole brother and the old man never visit.

No. Not my problem. I can’t let myself go down that path, or it’ll drive me insane. Ophelia deserves what’s coming to her, and her disgusting family deserves it too. That’s all that matters.

Seven minutes.

I edge forward, crouching out of sight behind the car. Ophelia helpfully parked with the passenger door facing away from the facility. Sweet of her to make my job easy.

Five minutes.

I pull on my balaclava. Ophelia can’t see me until we’re safely within the walls of the Compound. I’m counting on her assuming this is a basic hostage taking, someone after Daddy’s money.

She’ll go along with what I say as long as she’s confident she’ll be rescued. If she sees me too early, she might lose her cool.

Two minutes.

I pull the gun from the back of my jeans. It’s heavy in my hand, and a shudder tracks through my body as I imagine pointing it at another human. At Ophelia. I’ve been practicing on the range, in secret—not that I have any plans to fire the fucking thing. My main goal is making sure I don’t accidentally shoot myself or anyone else.

Zero minutes.

I wipe the sweat from my palm and clutch the weapon, waiting for the clacking of heels on the asphalt. Most Brothers get a sanitized version of this experience, their Ward delivered to them wrapped up like a Christmas present. If they had to do it themselves, how many would go through with it?

Focus. Not important right now.

Clicking heels come toward me, and my adrenaline spikes to apocalyptic levels.

Shit.

This is it.

Her door opens, and she climbs in. Before the door closes fully, I yank open the passenger door and jump inside, gun leveled right at her. She shrieks, eyes glued to the weapon, as I say, “Drive. Now.”

Three

Ophelia

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I glance at the man in the black balaclava, grip the steering wheel, and shift the car into drive. I bite my lip to hold back a sob as I reverse the car out of the space. He’s got a gun. It’s pointed right at me. The spot it’s aimed at burns as I head toward the gates.

Dad can be an asshole, but at least he prepared me for this.Keep calm. Do what they say. Don’t give them a reason to hurt you. I’ll get you home safe, princess.

“Straight out of the gate. You’ll see a silver car. Pull in behind it.”

Sweat breaks out all over my body. What is he going to do to me? Throw me in his trunk? My body spasms, a panicked shudder, and the car lurches to the side before I get control of myself again.

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