Page 199 of Fractured Devotion
“Please,” he whimpers brokenly.
“No.”
I draw the blade across his throatwith the certainty of a sentence being carried out, savoring the widening of his eyes as the blood spills in thick, dark streams.
I watch him die, not out of hate, but because it needs to be done.
Purpose sharpens every second of the moment.
When his body slumps, lifeless, I wipe my knife clean on the pristine white of his shirt.
One name erased.
Many more to follow.
I quietly move into the bathroom and clean the blood-stained glove without leaving a trace.
Then I leave the penthouse the same way I came.
Silent.
No alarms. No witnesses.
The city streets feel heavier now, the night thick with something almost electric.
I make my way to the next place.
Each step sharpens my intent.
The private club hasn’t changed since I last crossed its threshold. It’s a den of whispers, with velvet walls and darker deals.
She’s already watching when I enter, lounging in the corner, wrapped in silk and secrets.
“You look like hell, Kade,” she purrs, her eyes glittering.
“Busy day,” I reply, my voice dry.
Her lips curl into something wicked. “Come for me, or come for business?”
“Both,” I answer, my gaze holding hers.
Her name is Lorna Vex. An old friend with older debts.
She leads me upstairs without another word, her hips swaying, her heels clicking softly on polished wood.
Her room is the same—low lights, blood-red walls, and thick rugs that drown footsteps.
“Still chasing ghosts?” she asks, pouring a drink.
“Vescari,” I say, accepting the glass.
Her brow lifts.
“That snake’s still slithering around?”
“I need everything you have.”
She swirls her drink, watching me with sharp eyes. “You always want something,” she murmurs, sipping slowly.
