Page 12 of Silent Schemes
In the Cross family, disappointment is often terminal.
I've seen him kill men for less than failure.
His own brother died for losing a shipment worth half of what Varrick Bane controls.
"Maya, go to your room," I say, putting enough steel in my voice that she obeys without question.
I won't let her watch what comes next.
Father dismisses me with a wave, already moving on to other business.
I'm just another tool in his drawer, to be sharpened and used as needed.
But as I leave his office, I make a silent vow: This is thelasttime.
After Varrick Bane is dead, I'm getting Maya out.
Away from our father, away from this life, away from the destiny he's planning for her.
Even if it kills me.
The next morning arrives too soon, bringing with it Vincent Carlisle and the beginning of my transformation into the perfect weapon.
Vincent Carlisle is Theodore's best killer, which means he's also the most damaged.
The training room in the basement reeks of sweat and something darker—old blood that never quite washes out of the concrete.
The walls are lined with weapons—guns, knives, garrotes, poisons—an arsenal of death that I've been trained to use since I could walk.
"Seduction is about vulnerability," he says, circling me as I stand in lingerie and heels.
It's meant to humiliate, to break me down.
But I've been broken so many times, there's nothing left to shatter. "You make them think they have the power while you're the one holding the knife."
He attacks without warning—his signature move.
I sidestep, muscle memory taking over, and bring my hidden blade up to his throat.
It's a dance we've done a hundred times.
My body remembers even when my mind wants to forget.
"Good," he says, stepping back. "But Bane isn't some low-level thug. He's survived five years at the top of Vancouver's food chain. He'll be watching for weapons."
"Then I'll give him something else to watch," I say, adjusting the red lace against my skin.
Vincent's eyes trail over me, clinical and cold. "Your body is a weapon, just like any blade or bullet. Use it without shame, without hesitation."
Shame.
I almost laugh.
My father burned that out of me years ago, the first time he made me seduce one of his enemies.
I was seventeen, and the man died choking on his own blood while still inside me.
Shame is another luxury I can't afford.
