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Don’t give up.
You can do this.
Please, Christian, please be coming for me.
Chapter Eight
November 17th
8:58 A.M.
Revenge was within her grasp.
Zara Duffy relaxed back in her chair at the dining room table, content in the knowledge that soon everyone who had played a part in the death of the man she loved would be punished.
It wasn’t enough just to kill Dominick Mikhailov and the rest of the members of his team, she wanted them to suffer.
She needed them to suffer.
A quick death was more than they deserved.
You will be avenged, moya lyubov.
Kristoff’s death would not be in vain. She wouldn’t allow it. For now, their plans to destroy the government would have to be put on hold. Kristoff was her everything and nothing mattered more to her than avenging him.
Glancing up as she heard footsteps, Zara smiled as the first step in getting revenge for Kristoff entered the room.
A part of her understood that what she had planned for Liliana Angeletti wasn’t what anyone with a conscience would consider to be fair. The woman had nothing to do with any of this. Nothing other than being involved with one of Dominick’s teammates.
Still fair or not, the woman would suffer.
One by one, Zara intended to capture the wives of Kristoff’s brother’s teammates. Once she had all five of them in her possession, only then would she lure Alpha Team into a trap and kill them all. She wanted them to know what it felt like to watch the person you loved most in the world die right before your eyes. Then once the women were dead, she would have Alpha Team executed.
There was probably a way to use that as a springboard to launch her plans to take over the government. There was always a patsy who could be found, a puppet to be used, a lunatic like Storm Gallagher who had delusions about a utopia where everyone lived off the land. She would find a terrorist and frame him for Alpha Team’s deaths, use that to destabilize the government, then swoop in and take over.
“Sleep well, old friend?” Zara asked with a smirk as she lifted a glass of pineapple juice and sipped it.
Liliana glared at her in a way she wasn’t used to seeing the woman look at anyone. Lila was too soft to survive in the world where they had grown up. It was no surprise that she had run like a coward.
You didn’t run from pain, you learned to embrace it.
That was what her childhood had taught her.
Pain was part of life. If you ran, in the end, it found you no matter how hard or how fast you ran, so what was the point?
A chance meeting with Kristoff Mikhailov had changed the entire trajectory of her life, and she had found what she had been searching for.
Someone who understood pain and the freedom that came from accepting it. Kristoff understood, and he delivered her the most amazing painful sensations. Feelings that made her come alive. He’d saved her from a life of emptiness and filled it with everything she had needed. He had held nothing back, offering her every dark, twisted crevasse of his black heart.
Kristoff was her everything, and now he was gone.
Gone and never coming back.
All she could do was avenge his death, continue their plans, and bring them to fruition. Maybe then she would be able to sleep through the night again.
“No, I didn’t sleep well,” Liliana said as Ross—who had what looked like a tight grip on her elbow—shoved her down into a chair at the table, taking the one beside her.
It didn’t bother Zara in the least seeing her husband infatuated with another woman. There was no love between her and Ross, she didn’t even like him. The man was disgusting and had a thing for teenage girls, but he was wealthy, influential, and the most well-known and respected director in Hollywood. There were a lot of benefits to the marriage, and they had agreed that what she did in private and what he did in private had nothing to do with the other.
