Page 58 of Soulless Deeds

He saved my life. Which had me conflicted.

Our step into sex also didn’t help. We shared a moment…a feeling. One I’d never felt before.

I shuddered from aversion. Maybe Iwasdickmatised, as Remi so aptly put it.

With one selfless act and a mind-blowing fuck, the stakes had irrevocably tallied higher. Was I willing to gamble it all? Wager my revenge and pain for something I may never win?

I shook my head, not ready nor prepared to deconstruct that orgasmic inducing calamity.

As the doors opened, I called out, “ASTER!?” No reply came as my voice rang through the empty apartment.

With a shrug, I entered her kitchen, placed my lopsided cake on the bench, then rummaged through the fridge, drinking straight from the milk carton like the fiend I was. Looking around, my eyes catalogued each and every piece in her extravagant, high-end home. Despite her cold-blooded, bitchy front, Aster had substance, her unique decor portraying something deeper.

I always knew the measure of someone based on their private space. Clean? Dirty? Hidden treasures? You’re only yourtrue selfwhen you’rebyyourself…and Aster lived alone.

A dominant smirk lifted as I swiped the milk moustache from my upper lip. She should have known better than to give me access to her domain and not be there to supervise.

I rifled through her home, finding nothing but weird, antique, collectable bullshit. The last remaining area was her bedroom. My hand lingered on the door handle with a split second of reservation that burnt to ash as I peeked inside.Again, blame Chase.

It was the most personalised area of the apartment, unkempt and messy as fuck—entirely different to the Aster shown tothe world. Clothes were strewn everywhere and candles riddled every surface, hardened melted wax permanently moulded to the wood. Amongst the rest was priceless make-up, perfume and various other trinkets I didn’t bother to riffle through.

After some digging, I found nothing of substance until I came across the full-length mirror mounted to the wall. A two-way, upon first inspection…which meant there was something hidden behind.

With some minor trifling, I was able to shimmy it open, displaying a dark, narrow walk-in wardrobe. I was disappointed with the hidden compartment—easy enough to find by a toddler, let alone an assassin like me.

I guess being the head of one of the most renowned crime organisations in the city had its perks. Including the fake assurance that someone wouldn’t waltz into your home and go through all your shit, purely based on the threat of dismemberment and death alone. A shame for her, since those dangers never registered with me.

I found the usual—multiple weapons, numerous identities, thick wads of cash. All of it pretty generic and boring, really… Until I reached a worn photo album, haphazardly shoved to the side.

Inside were letters—long-winded love letters, which made me pause. The same title was addressed at the top of each and every one,Sister.It’s like the person who’d written them had plucked the exact words from my brain, expressing precisely how I felt about my own siblings. The tone and the way they were written… Vulnerable, intimate, tender.

As I came to the last page, there were two printed photos face down. I flipped the first, the air catching in my lungs from immediate shock. Staring back at me were two beautiful young females, hugging in a close embrace, obviously related based purely on their physical similarities.

The first was Aster, bald head shining bright in the sun. Then, my eyes flipped to the second. Red hair like mine. Green eyes like mine. Her entire fucking face…EXACTLY. LIKE. MINE.

With shaking fingers, my muscles moved on autopilot as I flipped the last remaining photo.

There stood my father, fondly cradling the redhead—grinning. His expression was foreign as it was a rare experience to ever see him smile, let alone appear somewhat happy. But that was not the most difficult shock to process, as his hand gently rested on the woman’s protruding abdomen—which was heavily pregnant.

I was…shook.

Aside from my father and his former wife conceiving Chase, the rest of us sisters didn’t know our origins. Had no idea who donated their fertilised eggs to the greater cause of Oliver King and his crackpot ideas.

Either way, our history didn’t matter. Although I had conflicting feelings about my father, he had ultimately given me my sisters. Which was the sole reason I couldn’t bring myself to hate him completely.

Due to my emotional instability from those disturbing findings, I’d missed the signs. Until I was caught.

“WHAT THE FU—” The sound of Aster’s blasting screech irrevocably snapped my last remaining rational thought, cutting through to the unfiltered, unhinged,realSpencer.

My hand automatically grasped onto the closest available pistol as I spun and pointed the barrel directly between her eyes—those red fucking devil eyes that shimmered with unshed tears as they processed the photos between my fingers.

“Uh-uh, demon lady. I don’t want you to say another word.” I cocked the gun, the click resounding loud and clear between us like an admission. I was balancing on the edge, so close topulling the damn trigger and leaving it all out on her bedroom floor between us. She couldn’t affect me if she was dead.

Instead of retreating, the dumb bitch stepped forward with an outstretched hand as if to touch me. “Spencer, it’s not what you thin?—”

Bang.A bullet tore straight through Aster’s palm, which she swiftly cradled to her chest, blood seeping into her dress. She didn’t scream or react, but her eyes bled with emotion that I was too far gone to recognise.

“I don’t want your lies!” I screamed, the gun trained back on her stupid face. “I don’t want to hear a single fucking poisoned word from that venomous tongue.” I pitched forward so she could read my violent intent with every line of my body, then my gaze lasered in on her injury. “That was a warning…and you only get one.”

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