Page 259 of Vexatious Queen

When I got in, I looked at the front of the building. Christov was still standing outside staring at me, like that would somehow produce the answers he wanted. I waved at him as I left.

Now, it was time to get rid of the father for good. It was only beneficial to remove Sabastian if Christov was no longer a threat.

An hour later, I was pulling down the driveway to the cabin and realizing how much I missed this place. It still needed some work, but it was the perfect quiet getaway. Not that I was using it for that tonight.

Liam’s vehicle was already here, along with some others belonging to guys he had tapped to pull into our underground business after we graduated.

Getting out, I followed the path to the large tree that had seen enough death to be considered a sacrificial alter. They stood quietly, waiting for me with a gun in hand, faces somber, eyes on the man and his son tied to the tree.

I entered the clearing and stopped. Mark’s face had seen better days. There was dried blood from his nose on his fat lip and bruising around his eye. He’d resisted. Too bad it wasn’t going to help him get out of this situation.

Trent, on the other hand, had tape over his mouth, but otherwise didn’t look like he put up any kind of a fight.

“I don’t understand what’s going on. I already did what you asked, and Christov will kill me when he finds out,” Mark said.

“Not if you’re both already dead,” I said, and Mark trembled.

“No…please.” He looked at Trent, tied up with him. “My son has nothing to do with this.”

Stepping forward, I let him see my smile.

“You see, Mr. Miller, that’s where you’re wrong. I think it’s time that you and I had a chat face-to-face. Unless, of course, you’d prefer I just skip to the shooting Trent in the head and framing you, part.”

He shook his head. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

I held out my hand, and Liam placed a wooden box in my palm. It was Rory’s box. The one he marked with his handprint on the night of his initiation. It had been wiped down thoroughly, since he’d proven his loyalty.

I opened the lid to show Mark the gun nestled in the satin.

“Untie Mr. Miller, but make sure his son remains secure,” I ordered.

The guys gathered and quickly set Mark free. Trent’s eyes were wide with terror.

Mark rubbed at his wrists.

“What is the gun for?”

“You are full of questions. How about I talk, and you shut the fuck up.”

He pressed his lips together.

“Much better,” I said with a smirk. “Now, pick up the gun? And don’t you fucking dare ask why.”

He swallowed hard, his hand shaking as he reached into the box. It was easy to tell he’d never held a firearm in his life, but that didn’t matter.

“Excellent, now point it at me.”

“What?”

“Just do what I fucking say,” I growled, irritated.

He raised the gun, his arm shaking worse than his hand had been.

“Good, now cock the hammer and pull the trigger.”

Mark looked like he was going to vomit and winced when the gun made a loud click sound, but nothing came out.

“Good, now put it back in the box.”