Page 10 of Enigma: The Final Chapter
“Those were my sentiments exactly, but she was a whore who refused to open her legs for anyone but Vladimir.”
Rick rolls his eyes. “She obviously needed to be taught a lesson that Vladimir wasn’t the only King she was required to service.”
My stomach rolls, sickened at the thought of my mom being treated like nothing more than a commodity. From the photos I found of her in my uncle’s personal records, she was so young and full of life before she met my father. She only agreed to become his mistress because he promised her a life of luxury and happiness. All she got were broken promises and shattered dreams.
Col’s chest puffs high, smugly basking in the glory of Rick’s praise. “Ah, you're a man after my own heart. There's nothing I love more than teaching someone a valuable lesson. Except perhaps watching the light being extinguished from their eyes… the fear, the silent pleading, the scent of death. Nothing comes close to that thrill. It’s the most addictive drug of them all. Although Felicia’s death was many years ago, it’s one of my most treasured memories.”
“Then why hide your glorious victory? You snuck in under Vladimir’s nose and killed his most prized mistress. That’s not a feat a mere man would accomplish. You should be shouting it from the rooftops.”
Col chuckles with arrogance. “Felicia’s death was during a moment of lust-fueled rage, urged on by the wrong head on my body. It was only once she stopped withering under my hands did I realize my business dealings with Vladimir were worth more than claiming the death of a whore. Luckily for me, she was a drug addict, so her murder was easy to conceal.”
My throat burns when I heave against the gag. Add that to the dizziness inflicted from being chloroformed twice and the virulence of Col’s words, the urge to be sick is overwhelming. I suck in a big breath as my eyes shift to the wall, vainly trying to keep my stomach from recoiling again. If I can’t fight the urge to be sick while gagged, I'll most likely asphyxiate myself.
When I close my eyes, my mind drifts to a happier time, a more settled place. The first image that enters my thoughts is Isaac and me dancing at the gala, then it changes to our time together on his yacht. The swell of my stomach eases as the memories of our months together filter through my mind.
I’m brought back to reality when my head is yanked roughly. The swishing of my stomach returns when I glance into Col’s soulless eyes. “Watching the life vanish from Isabelle’s eyes will be worth any damage my business will sustain. Although, seeing her up close does make me reconsider my original plan.” He licks his lips in a sickening way. “Maybe I should keep her alive a little while longer… see if she is as feisty as her mother. With her beneath me, it will be like the past twenty years never happened. I'll once again be in my prime.”
When Rick takes a step closer to me, I breathe in the smell of his bottled cologne, hoping its spicy scent will quell my stomach. He's standing so close, his jean-covered calf scratches my wobbling knees. “Why go to all the effort of dragging Isabelle here if you just plan to kill her? I could have given you the opportunity at the gala two weeks ago.”
My heart stops beating when Col smirks an evil, stomach-churning smile. “Because this is different. Here, I get to kill two birds with one stone in a place that holds great sentimental value to me.” His heavy-lidded eyes roam over my face before they glide down my body. “This is, after all, where it all began. This is where my business started, and the same place an angel gained her wings.” He treks his index finger across my tear-stained cheek. “Furthermore, I want Isaac to watch her die, to see firsthand the light in her eyes doused, knowing he’s responsible for the death of the woman he loves.”
My heart clenches. How was I so blind that I couldn’t see Isaac loved me when even a man like Col could? Weeks I wasted with Isaac by choosing to listen to the callous words of a spiteful bitch instead of ensuring her claims were legitimate. I should have fought harder. I should have demanded proof instead of believing speculation. I shouldn’t have given him up without a fight.
Rick shrugs. “Sounds like a story of a bitter, revenge-seeking old man.” My pulse quickens when he takes a step closer to Col. “The story circulating through my crew is that you’ve become so blinded by revenge, you’re taking uncalculated risks that are putting your crew in jeopardy.”
A muffled squeal erupts from my mouth when Col backhands Rick. The harshness of his blow is so brutal, Rick’s head flings to the side, and blood dribbles from his mouth. “Another insult like that will have your body sitting in the bottom of the ocean as fish food,” Col snarls through clenched teeth. “People learn the hard way that a man with a reputation like mine isnotto be disrespected. I'll have no qualms ensuring you're aware of the same thing.”
Rick moves his head back to its original position, his eyes stormy and beaming with unbridled anger. The heat in the room turns stifling when he smiles a sinister grin. From his smiling reaction, you wouldn’t think the whites of his teeth are tainted with blood.
After running his index finger across his bottom lip, gathering a trail of blood formed there, his darkened eyes lift to Col. “This proves the rumors circulating the mill are correct. You’ve lost your game, Col. First, you bring law enforcement into an industry they don’t belong in. Then, you falsely frame people for murder.” My pupils widen as my blurry eyes shoot between Rick and Col. “And now, you’re so heedless, you can’t even see the grim reaper standing in front of you.”
My heart rate ramps up when Rick slyly moves his hand toward the semi-automatic weapon he housed in the back of his jeans earlier. “You should’ve been more vigilant, Col, more cautious, as haste—”
“Haste decisions cause unforgiving mistakes,” interrupts a voice at the side of the warehouse I immediately recognize. “Mistakes I regret every day of my life.”
Fear bubbles inside of me when my gaze locks in on the impressive stature of Isaac entering an open roller door at the side. He's wearing black trousers and a light blue business shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He's devoid of the tie, vest, and jacket he usually wears.
His darkened gaze shifts from glaring at Col to scan my face, the tick in his jaw amplifying when he notices the tearstains on my ashen cheeks. The constrictive clutch on my heart tightens when Rick points the barrel of his gun at Isaac’s torso.
Even in immediate danger, Isaac’s commanding composure doesn’t falter. He exudes importance and demands attention. While tugging his business shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, he keeps his gaze securely planted on Rick. He raises his shirt high so Rick can see he's unarmed.
He doesn’t need to carry a weapon. His body is his weapon.
When Rick lowers his gun, Isaac strides toward our group. His steps are fast and efficient, reaching us within two heart-thrashing seconds. “You wanted my attention, now you have it. Let Isabelle go, and I’ll ensure the repercussions of your idiocy will be less severe than what will be inflicted on Col.”
Even though his words are directed at Rick, his gaze remains fixed on Col, intuiting the greater evil of the two men in front of him.
Col smirks a malicious smile. “And here I thought Henry taught you everything he knew.” He paces nearer to Isaac. “That’s not the way things work in our industry, and you know that. If it were, I would’ve slit your snitching throat years ago.”
Isaac’s cheeks rise as his lips curl into a snarl. “The rules of our game changed the instant you sought your vengeance on Isabelle instead of me.”
“I'm evening the score,” Col sneers. “You took my angel, now I’ll take yours.”
“Ophelia’s death is on your head, not mine!” Isaac’s tone is dangerously low. “If you had just let us walk away that night, she’d have never died, and I would’ve saved her from living a calamitous life with you.”
My heart squeezes over the pain in his words. Words that should have been spoken six years ago. Words that will hopefully help to heal Isaac’s heart.
Col spits at Isaac’s feet. “You couldn’t have saved her. She died running away from you, not me!”
