"Who?"
"I don't know! A encrypted app! Bitcoin payment! Please!"
"You’re lying."
I press the knife harder. A thin line of red appears on his neck.
"If you lie to me again, I will cut out your tongue and check under it for the truth."
"Sokolov!" he screams. "It was Sokolov’s men! They wanted confirmation she was there! That’s all! Just confirmation!"
"And did you give it to them?"
"I... I sent the live feed. Just now."
The rage returns, hot and blinding.
Nikolai saw her. He saw her in the conservatory. He knows she is here. The sanctuary is breached.
"Bad news," I say softly.
"What?"
"You just became obsolete."
I don't hesitate. I don't gloat. I simply drive the knife down.
It’s over in seconds.
I stand up, wiping the blade on his shirt. I look at the car. The screen on the dashboard is still showing the feed from the drone, which is now hovering aimlessly as the battery dies.
I reach in and grab the control unit. I crush it in my hand. The screen goes black.
I look at the body in the dirt.
It’s a message. Nikolai sent a drone to tell me he knows. I will send a message back.
I grab the man’s phone. I take a picture of his face—frozen in that final moment of terror.
I send it to the number that contacted him.
Then I turn back toward the house.
The walk back is faster. The adrenaline is fading, replaced by a dark, simmering need.
I need to see her.
I need to see that she is still there. Still chained. Still mine.
I enter the house. I don't bother cleaning up. The blood on my hands is a testament to my devotion.
I climb the stairs. I unlock the bedroom door.
Ivy is exactly where I left her.
She’s sitting up, her back against the headboard, her knees pulled to her chest. Her arm is stretched awkwardly above her, the handcuff glinting in the dim light. She’s been crying.
When the door opens, her head snaps up.
