Security guards lay sprawled on the stairs like charred corpses. Scorch marks climbed the walls, and the air hung thick with heat and the acrid smell of burnt flesh.
Helena seemed to have forgotten her pain. She watched Jack Kadere descend the staircase, her mind blank with shock.
Dodging bullets had been astonishing enough, but what he had just done—
She no longer knew how to describe it. Was this something a human could do?
Gunfire erupted from the lower floors, followed by screams and shouted orders, then silence. Every security guard in the house was probably dead. They had all worked for her father. Their hands were stained with blood. They deserved it. And yet Helena felt a hollow ache in her chest.
Not because she regretted betraying Jack Kadere. That decision had torn at her, yes, but she could sacrifice anything to achieve her goal—even herself. For what she had done to him, she could only say she was sorry. What she regretted was failing to recognize what he was capable of. Now her goal would almost certainly remain unfulfilled.
She didn't expect him to let her go. And even if he did, he wouldn't keep her secret.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Jack Kadere appeared, expression relaxed. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her downstairs. Helena had lost all hope; she let herself be hauled along like a dead dog, across the ground floor, out the main entrance, all the way to the fountain in the courtyard before he finally released her.
"Do you regret it?" Jack Kadere crouched beside her, watching her with idle curiosity.
Regret? She thought of her mother—beaten daily by her father, eventually killed by him. She thought of all the families he had destroyed, the faces of those left behind. Her scattered gaze sharpened. "I only regret not being able to make him pay. I know what I did to you. So... just do it."
Helena closed her eyes.
Jack Kadere said nothing. He didn't move.
After a long moment, she opened her eyes in confusion. "Why aren't you doing anything?"
"I'm not going to kill you," he said with a quiet laugh.
"Not kill me?" A flicker of hope stirred in her chest. "You... you forgive me?"
Jack Kadere considered the question, then sat down on top of her. Helena gasped, struggling to breathe under his weight. He watched her writhe and smiled faintly.
"I told you—what you expect is what torments you. Expectation is the root of all suffering. I didn't expect that sleeping with you twice would make me more important than your mission, even if I was the only man you'd ever been with. So I don't mind, and I'm not angry that you betrayed me to protect your secret. I would have done the same. Everyone is selfish. Even people who seem selfless are really just satisfying their own emotional needs."
"But not being angry doesn't mean I forgive you." His smile widened, bright and warm. Helena's stomach turned cold. "Death would be a release. Success or failure, you'd never have to care again. So I won't kill you, and I won't expose your secret. I want you to wander between hope and despair, wishing you could die but never quite finding the way."
Helena felt as though she had plunged into ice water. Every part of her went numb. That gentle, radiant smile was more terrifying than any devil she could imagine.
He wouldn't kill her body. He would destroy her mind.
The iron gate at the perimeter of the villa swung open. A luxury car had been about to drive through, but it stopped short. The scene inside the courtyard had caught its occupants off guard.
Helena's father, Frank Bertinelli, was in that car.
As a crime syndicate leader, Frank Bertinelli was no stranger to violence. The shock lasted only a moment before he composed himself. He surveyed the unfamiliar man sitting on his daughter and the bodyguards scattered across the courtyard like lightning-struck corpses, then stepped out of the vehicle, his expression dark.
His remaining bodyguards and driver flanked him, guns drawn.
"Do you know who I am?" Frank Bertinelli studied Jack Kadere for a moment before speaking.
"Frank Bertinelli. Leader of Starling City's crime syndicate." Jack Kadere appraised him in return. Not bad. He had expected the man to leap out in a rage and open fire, or to panic and flee. He hadn't expected this composure.
"Do I have a grudge against you?" Frank Bertinelli's tone was cold.
Jack Kadere shook his head.
"Then someone hired you to cause me trouble?"
Jack Kadere shook his head again.
Frank Bertinelli let out a low, humorless laugh. "Very well. I promise you won't die easily."
He tilted his head slightly. The bodyguards and driver advanced, weapons trained on Jack Kadere.
Jack Kadere stood and raised his hands in surrender. The moment each man grabbed one of his shoulders, electricity surged through them.
Bang. Bang.
All three dropped to the ground.
Frank Bertinelli's eyes narrowed. He stumbled back several steps before Jack Kadere spoke again, voice light and pleasant.
"I want your daughter."
"What—what do you mean?" Frank Bertinelli forced the question out.
"Exactly what I said."
Frank Bertinelli drew a slow breath. The fear in his eyes gave way to calculation. "What can you give me in return?"
"Until I lose interest in her, I guarantee your life."
"Deal."
The promise offered nothing beyond keeping Frank alive—no assistance, no alliance—but he agreed without hesitation. A disobedient daughter was a small price to pay for the protection of someone with abilities like these. And refusing? Who knew what would happen then.
Frank Bertinelli smiled and took several steps toward Jack Kadere.
A gunshot cracked through the air from somewhere in the distance.
Bang!
A bullet struck Frank Bertinelli. He collapsed.
Jack Kadere's eyes narrowed.
"This is literally a slap in my face!"