Page 134 of A Lethal Game of Trust
That was why I didn’t notice the plastic sheets until we were walking on them. The crinkle of our steps were loud, nearly covering the muffled groans coming from the chair in the middle of the room.
For the last few years, I had made this house appealing and habitable from the outside. Somehow, the kitchen was also that way. A vase of lilies rested on the countertop, chopping boards lay on the side, accompanied by handwash.
But it was a premeditated crime scene with the plastic covering on the floor, waiting to be painted with blood.
“Leonie,” I warned, stopping as I saw the bald man struggle against the restraints that held him to the chair. “What is this?”
“Come and meet my new friend.”
The man started to lash out at the sound of her voice, the chair jolting with his movements.
Her new… what?
As we rounded the corner, I saw him then. Daniel Firdman. The man guilty of pulling the trigger on Leo’s dad.
He was covered in blood. Snot and tears trailed down his face. As Leo stood before him, he screwed up his eyes. He sobbed against the ball gag in his mouth.
He gripped the arms of the chair so tightly with nailless hands.
I had seen many a torture session and instigated more than my fair share.
But nothing had ever been as scary as Leo’s expression. Because she was ecstatic, proud, beaming down at him before picking up a knife from the line up at his feet that I hadn’t even noticed.
Months ago, I had promised to kill him. She’d always been capable of doing so herself.
“What… what’s happened?” I asked softly, trying to get between her and him, my hands on her shoulders.
Her gaze snapped up to mine. Her voice was full of faux surprise, not of regret nor concern. “Oh, you don’t love me anymore? Because this is who I was meant to become, Dominic. This is who you would have been with if he hadn’t killed my dad that night. Whatever I am is your doing.”
But my voice hadn’t been one of disgust. More a concerned awe.
I tipped her chin to look at me, trying to find the Leonie from months ago. There was no way I expected her to sit back and let business happen around her. That would never have been Leonie’s way. “It’s… I would have helped you, Leonie.”
“How could I trust you?” she asked, looking down at the knife in her hand. I wasn’t worried she would hurt me with it until her eyes bore into mine again. They were tight, full of something I had never seen before. Actual hatred. “You did this! You! He couldn’t have done this without you!”
“I don’t know what you mean!”
Her breathing was heavy as she ripped the ball gag from his mouth. “It might not be your fault, but this would have never happened if you weren’t his pawn.”
“Whose pawn?” I asked, my voice tightening with frustration. “Leonie, fucking spit it out.”
“Tell him!” she shrieked, pulling out the gun and pointing it at Firdman, who was openly weeping. “Tell him!”
“The Belovs hired me,” he sobbed, spitting blood on the floor.
“And the rest!”
The man before me was so broken. Traumatised. Crusted sick covered his top. He stank of piss and blood. He was such a mess that he looked at her for help.
“How many people?”
“Three,” he whimpered. “Meant to kill everyone in the house but the girl.”
Everyone? Even Aunty Elena? Even with the order not to kill Leo, he would have hurt her.
There was the rustle of plastic from the open French doors as Rocco entered, eyes locked on Leo. He warned, “We have company. A team out the front. You want me to…” He glanced up at me.
“They’ll only be Dom’s. Just leave them.”
