Page 71 of London
The cold, calculated look in his eyes sickened her. He wasn’t human. This man couldn’t have a soul.
He shrugged carelessly. “How should I know? Why should they be an exception? My company provided the authorized medications, while our counterfeits sold through a subsidiary company. Hospitals and clinics are always looking to save money. Purchasing cheaper drugs, even if they aren’t as effective, is a good way to do it. But don’t worry. Most of that stuff isn’t deadly. It’s all about the bottom line. There was always enough good stuff mixed in with the inferior to avoid suspicion. Some lived; some died. It’s just good business.”
“You’re a monster,” she whispered, horrified. “How could you? They’re children!”
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he snapped, straightening the gun once more, stepping closer to her. Linda was paralyzed, unable to do any more than draw shallow breaths. “Who’s to say they wouldn’t have grown up to be rapists and serial killers? I’m doing society a favor, can’t you see that, you dumb bitch? Survival of the fittest. It’s the cornerstone of evolution. Besides, that made your dear doctor work even harder to cure them. Speaking of which… Call him.” He gestured with the gun toward the phone on the couch. “Tell him to come over, that you need him.”
At his suggestion, courage she didn’t know she possessed flooded her.
“No. I won’t. You can kill me, do whatever you want to me, but I won’t call Gerard here so you can kill him.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “My, my. Aren’t we brave all of a sudden. The cat has claws… Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to you that would change your mind?”
He moved closer to her, so close she could feel his breath on her face. She turned her head away. The smell of the classy, expensive cologne he preferred sickened her. Bile roiled in her stomach.
She still wore the simple black tank top she’d donned in Cluj that morning. Tony caressed her loose breasts with the tip of the gun. It was only an illusion, but she felt the cold steel as if it touched her skin.
She wanted to step back, get away from him, but there was nowhere to go. The table that had supported her earlier now blocked her path, keeping her trapped between it and Tony’s body. Swallowing hard, she lifted her face to confront him.
“I’m curious, how will you explain my being killed with your gun?”
He smiled lazily.
“I won’t be explaining anything. By the time they find your body, I’ll be back in Rome. And, for the record, this isn’t my gun. It’s not registered,cara. As for your tragic death… It will remain a mystery. Famous artist and her doctor lover found shot to death. Was it murder? Murder-suicide? I’ll leave the gun near your lover’s hand—or perhaps near yours. Italian women are known for their fiery tempers. I did get a look at his neighbor. Now, that’s a woman worth fucking.” He leered. “The police will investigate, of course, but then some detective will recall that someone broke into his flat only a few days ago. Theories will fly. They may assume the good doctor wasn’t as on the up and up as he seemed. Perhaps he made some shady deals with some less than savory characters. Alas, you,cara, in that case, would just be collateral damage. They won’t search long for your killer.”
“I won’t call him,” she whispered, fighting back tears.
“Fine. I have time. Sooner or later he’ll come here, sniffing after his bitch. You two have been as thick as thieves ever since you met.” He spoke directly into her ear, his breath hot, his body pressed against hers. “Tell me, is he better in bed than I am?”
“If you have to ask, then you’re a lousy fuck—pun intended.”
Both Linda and Tony jumped and whirled around. Gerard stood in the living room, hands bare, feet planted solidly. How had he entered so quietly? She was both thrilled and horrified to see him.
“No!” Without thinking, she lunged at Tony, grabbing his gun hand. “Run!” she shouted.
Chapter Nineteen
Tony recovered quickly and shoved Linda away. Even as she fell to the floor, she knew her gesture had been futile. Gerard would no more leave her than she would leave him. Instead, he took advantage of her momentum and leaped toward Tony.
Unfortunately, Gerard underestimated Tony’s fury. Before Gerard could tackle him, her ex-husband pulled the trigger. Rather than a loud bang, the gunshot sounded like the cork popping off a bottle of champagne. He’d used a silencer. Screaming, she scrambled on all fours toward Gerard. He was lying on his side, holding his left arm. Blood trickled through his fingers and dripped onto the floor.
“Oh, my God!” She touched his shoulder, ran her fingers along his arm, afraid to hurt him further. Her hands shook so badly, she couldn’t control them.
“How bad is it? What should I do?” she whispered, her voice ragged, almost drowned by her tears.
“It’s not that bad,” Gerard said, his clenched teeth belying his words. “Help me up.”
“Are you crazy? Stay there. I’ll find a bandage, something—”
“Linda, I said help me up, damn it.” His voice was determined, even though he was panting.
“Do as he says.” Tony ordered. “I’m impressed by his attitude. The least I can do is offer him the courtesy of dying on his feet.”
Tony stood a safe distance away, the gun firmly clasped in his hand. Not a single hair on his head had moved.
Linda glared at him, her gaze filled with hatred. If looks could kill, he should be flat on his back right now, the force of her gaze a dart of fire aimed directly at his ice-cold heart. But this wasn’t a Hollywood movie. She wasn’t a witch, and her gaze wouldn’t turn him to ash.
Gerard’s blood was warm on her hands. Tony had at least five bullets left. She’d hesitated, missed her chance to act, and now they were doomed.
