locate Regina in what used to be her late husband, Carl Blanca’s, office. She’s seated behind a large oak desk in front of a blazing fire, holding a tumbler of whiskey in her hand. Her feet crossed at the ankles, perched upon the desk.
She doesn’t hear me enter until I click the door shut.
Instantly, she’s on her feet.
“Who…who are you?” She demands with a shaky voice, squinting as she searches the dim room.
I chuckle. “You’re the one who called me,” I remind her, slowly walking along the far side of the room, making sure to stay in the shadows of the flames dancing along the high walls.
“Ah, you must be the notorious one they call The Hunter. I wasn’t sure you’d gotten my message, or if you are even real. The people I spoke with have said that they didn’t receive answers to their replies.” She lifts the crystal decanter in my direction.
I shake my head. “I don’t reply to everyone.”
“Well, I’m glad you replied to me. We have business to discuss.” She waves her hand to the high-backed chair in front of the desk.
I shake my head. “I’ll stand.”
“Very well then,” she says, again taking a seat behind the desk, straightening the white jacket of her suit.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, dread rising in the base of my throat. A foreboding washes over me. I know what she’s going to ask before she even asks it.
“You are to dispose of my stepdaughter. Neve Blanca,” she says as if she’s giving orders to the maid to make sure they dust the windowsills. She reaches into the desk and pulls out a picture, sliding it across the shiny oak.
“Don’t need it,” I say. I know what Neve looks like. I know her face better than I know my own.
She pulls her fingers from Neve’s picture. “Don’t let her beauty sway you from your task. Take it from me, beauty has a way of causing men to make decisions that aren’t best for them.” She leaves the picture on the desk, then takes a large swallow of her drink. “As I said, I need you to dispose of her. Somewhere. Anywhere. Make it look like an accident, but not a missing person. They need to know she’s dead. Leave blood. As much as you can so I won’t have trouble obtaining a death certificate, but no body. I don’t want all the irritation of a wake and a funeral, but I can stomach a small drab service. If you must leave her body to be found, I request that you slash up her face.” She sighs as if she’s bored of the entire ordeal. Like Neve is a puppy who’s peed on the carpet one too many times and Regina just wants it gone. “Am I understood?”
I nod my acceptance of her terms while clenching my fists to my side and tightening my jaw to the point of pain. My mouth fills with saliva, watering to kill. I’ve got to get out of here before it’s this bitch’s blood I spill. “It’s as good as done,” I say, turning around to leave before I lift Regina out of the chair and toss her into the raging fire.
“Wait,” she calls out. “There’s more.”
I look over my shoulder, not able to hide the look of disgust on my face, but thankfully she can’t see me. “More?”
“Yes, for example, what about payment?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. “We haven’t discussed it.”
“It’ll be expensive. I’ll send you my bill.” Little does she know that the payment I will be seeking will be for more than she’d ever be willing to pay and won’t have anything to do with money.
“Also, I’ll want my own proof of her death beyond the blood of course,” she says, tapping her nails along the desk.
“What kind of proof will you require?” I ask, keeping my voice monotone and unimpressed.
She leans back in the chair and again crosses her legs at the ankles, resting her heels on the top of the desk. She presses the tumbler to her cheek. An evil like I’ve never seen flashes in her bright blue eyes. “Bring me her heart.”
2
Neve
A thrill surges through my entire body. An excitement like I’ve never felt before.
For years I’ve been asking my stepmother to allow me to attend one of the grand functions or fundraisers she frequents on a regular basis, only to be met with a stern ‘no’ or a roll of her eyes.