Page 70 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
I kneel down so we're eye level, close enough that he can see every emotion crossing my face. Close enough that he can see exactly who I've become.
"You never deserved me," I say quietly. "Not my love, not my loyalty, not my forgiveness. You treated me like I was lucky to be with you, when the truth is you were lucky I was too naive to see what a selfish, weak little boy you really are."
"Kyra."
"Shut it. I'm not finished." My voice carries enough authority to silence him immediately. "Victor saw my worth when you couldn't. He fought for me when you wouldn't. He values my mind, my ambition, my strength—things you never even noticed."
Tears are streaming down Aaron's face now, but I feel nothing. No guilt, no sympathy, no regret. Just cold, clear certainty.
"So here's what's going to happen," I continue, standing and turning to Victor. "He's going to live. But not because I'm merciful. Because I want him to live with the knowledge that he lost the best thing that ever happened to him to his own father. I want him to wake up every day knowing that I chose someone else, someone better, someone who actually deserves me."
Victor's smile is slow and deeply satisfied. "An elegant solution, sweetheart. But what guarantee do we have that he won't cause problems for us in the future?"
I look down at Aaron, broken and sobbing in his chair, and feel nothing but contempt.
"Look at him," I say dismissively. "What's he going to do? Call the police and tell them his father stole his girlfriend? Try to expose your business and end up mysteriously disappearing?He's not brave enough for revenge, Victor. He's not strong enough to be a real threat."
"You're probably right," Victor agrees. "But I prefer certainty to probability."
"Then let me provide it." I kneel down again, grabbing Aaron's chin and forcing him to look at me. "You're going to leave here and never contact either of us again. You're going to tell anyone who asks that you wished us well and moved on with your life. And you're going to live with the knowledge that the woman you thought you loved chose your father over you because he's everything you'll never be."
"And if he doesn't comply?" Victor asks with interest.
"Then you'll kill him," I say simply, the words coming easier than they should. "And I'll help you bury the body."
The silence that follows is deafening. Patrick looks impressed. Victor looks proud. And Aaron looks like I've just reached into his chest and crushed his heart with my bare hands.
Which, I suppose, I have.
"Outstanding," Victor says finally. "Patrick, untie him."
As the ropes fall away from Aaron's wrists, the girl who drove up this mountain—heartbroken, desperate, clinging to the hope of salvaging a relationship with a man who never deserved her—is gone.
In her place stands someone harder, colder, infinitely more dangerous.
Someone worthy of Victor Strickland.
"Merry Christmas, Aaron," I say as he stumbles toward the door on unsteady legs. "Try not to drive off a cliff on your way home. That would be such a tragic accident."
The threat is delivered with perfect sweetness, and I see him flinch at the implications.
When the door closes behind him, Victor turns to me with something approaching awe.
"Perfect," he murmurs, pulling me into his arms. "Absolutely perfect. You're everything I knew you could become."
As he kisses me beneath the Christmas tree, surrounded by the evidence of wealth and power and complete moral flexibility, I realize something:
I've never been happier in my entire life.
The good girl is dead. Long live the queen.
Chapter twenty-one
Victor
All I can focus on is the woman in my arms. My dark queen, my perfect partner, my greatest creation. The transformation I just witnessed was more beautiful than any work of art, more thrilling than any business conquest.
She destroyed my son with words alone. Broke him completely without laying a finger on him. And the way she looked while doing it—cold, calculating, absolutely ruthless—was the most arousing thing I've ever seen.
