Helena's personality ran to extremes, shot through with a self-destructive streak that bordered on pathological. To achieve her goals, she would sacrifice anything—including herself. No wonder she would one day become utterly ruthless. A woman who didn't spare herself would never spare anyone else.
That personality brought Jack Kadere plenty of surprises.
Over the following days, Helena rotated through the bedroom and the living room, inventing new variations to hold his interest. She drove the staff out of the Villa entirely so Jack could have her on the courtyard lawn in broad daylight. When he went to view the houses Felicity had shortlisted, Helena accompanied him. Roadside, she ordered the driver and bodyguards out of the car to stand watch nearby. Once the vehicle stopped rocking, they climbed back in and continued the drive.
Jack felt he needed to chug some energy drinks. Otherwise, his actual girlfriend would start noticing a deficit.
Helena's shameless campaign yielded results. Within days, Frank's people had mentally reclassified her from the boss's daughter to Jack Kadere's woman. Everyone understood the situation clearly, even if no one said it aloud. Frank hadn't shown his face throughout, but he knew every detail. Some of his lieutenants grumbled openly.
After all, this was a matter of face. Of dignity.
If rival gangs learned the boss's daughter was being paraded around like this, how would any of them hold their heads up in public? A man who sacrificed his own daughter—would anyone still trust him?
Frank decided it was time to talk to Jack Kadere.
He drove home and entered the Villa. "Is Helena here?"
"Upstairs," a bodyguard answered. "That—that man is also upstairs. Went up just now."
"All of you, out." Frank waved them away. He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, then chose not to climb them.
Upstairs, Helena waited. When her father failed to appear, she let out a cold laugh. "The timing's about right. He came back but didn't come up. He's getting ready to ask for your help against someone."
"Then let's go down."
"Wait." Helena stopped him as he moved toward the wardrobe. "Let me change."
She reappeared minutes later in high heels, garter stockings, and a tight black dress that clung to every curve.
"Well?"
"Not bad."
"And this." She turned, retrieved something from a drawer, and fastened it around her own throat—a genuine leather collar. A long chain dangled from the ring at the front. She placed the end in Jack's hand.
"Going this far?" He tugged the chain, genuinely surprised. She really intended to abandon every scrap of dignity.
Helena tapped a small ornament on the collar. "Custom-made. I originally planned to put it on the dog he used to keep around—audio and video recording, perfect for gathering evidence. The dog died in an accident a while back. Wearing it myself now serves the same purpose. It won't raise suspicion…and I cannot wait to see their expressions when you walk me in on a leash." Her smile was knife-thin.
"I'm starting to admire you." Jack hadn't expected the collar to serve that function. She truly deserved to become the Huntress one day. The methods, the patience, the willingness to debase herself—Helena would use any means necessary to hunt her prey. With that single-minded determination, few targets would ever escape her.
Jack appreciated the attitude. He operated the same way.
Footsteps descended the stairs. Frank turned and saw Jack leading Helena down—except he wasn't holding her hand. He was holding a chain.
His daughter, dressed like that, led like a pet.
Frank's first reaction wasn't anger. It was relief.
Relief that he'd sent everyone away.
"Your daughter is truly amazing." Jack stopped in front of him. The praise sounded completely sincere.
Frank forced an awkward smile while fury churned beneath his ribs. Where's that stubborn temper you always show me? You're actually obedient to him? Pathetic.
"Have you thought it through?" Jack's tone carried an edge.
Frank understood immediately. "Anthony Vensa. He leads the trafficking operation that shares the Starling City drug market with the Three Rounds. I want to discuss cooperation with him tonight."
"Tonight won't work. Right now."
"Now?" Frank blinked. "I haven't arranged anything yet."
"Then arrange it quickly. I don't like wasting time." Jack walked past him, chain in hand, Helena following at heel.
Afternoon sunlight spilled across the lawn. A gentle breeze stirred the grass. The bodyguards outside the Villa froze, mouths hanging open, as Jack Kadere led Helena toward the garage—exactly like a man walking his favorite dog.
Oh god.
This... this...
"What are you standing around for?" Frank's roar erupted from the Villa doorway. His expression was thunderous. "Notify everyone—we're going to Anthony Vensa's territory!"
The bodyguards scattered, rushing to prepare.