Page 49 of Cain
“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”
Cain approaches Landon and fixates his eyes on his. “Is this just another mistake, or is it the final proof that you’re completely worthless?”
“It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Tell me, Landon … are you still with me?”
“Yes, boss.”
Cain hums again, his eyes never drifting away from Landon’s. “Are you sure?”
Landon finds the courage and looks back into Cain’s eyes. “Yes, boss,” he repeats.
Cain nods, his jaw twitching. “Set the meeting.” He turns his back on Landon. “And dig a grave.” Landon doesn’t talk; he lowers his head and turns to leave as well. “Landon?”
“Yes, Mr. Manson?”
“If you fail me again, the next grave you’ll dig will be yours.”
Landon nods, mirroring Cain from a while ago. “Noted.”
I need to hide. He shouldn’t know I was eavesdropping. Without a second thought, I slip through the nearest door.
My heart is pounding as I listen to him passing just outside. His footsteps sound quick and heavy as if he’s pissed. I give a glance to the room. It’s a plain bedroom with not many things around, only the essential furniturein dark tones, just like the rest of the house. It seems neat and clean, as if no one lives here.
My curiosity piques. The weird thing is that I’m not curious to search around for potential clues. I’m curious about the meeting they were talking about.
I cautiously step out of the room, walk towards the living room again, and carefully peek over the wall.
Cain has already poured himself a scotch and walks up and down the room. He seems impatient. Nervous, I’d say.
He exhales. “I thought I asked you to go to your room,” he growls, without looking at me. How does he know I’m here?
Without having any reason to hide anymore, I step forward, revealing myself.
“You’ve defied me more times than I can forgive, little rose.”
“Will you kill that man you were talking about?” I ask bravely. I know the answer, but I ask anyway. I suppose deep down, I still hold on to hope. Hope that he’s not the monster I believe him to be. Hope that he’s worthy of redemption.
He faces me and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he went against me. He wants to kill me as well.”
Tears flood my eyes. I have no idea why. “Don’t you know of another way to solve your differences?”
“In my world, there’s no other way, Katerina. The bigger fish eats the small one.”
Unfairness starts boiling inside me again. I feel drowned. Suffocated. My ears are ringing, and my temples are pulsing.
“You’re a monster!” Determined, I rush toward him and stop just a few inches away. “You’re a manipulative, twisted man who keeps me here against my will and goes out only to destroy what’s left!”
“You’ve got me wrong, sugar. I do more than that.”
“You only know how to hurt and frighten people! You hurt me! You cut me!”
His dark green eyes remain persistent on mine, and he clicks his tongue. He walks toward the liquor cabinet, opens it, and takes out a stiletto knife. What is he doing?
