life completely and she was no longer sure she could resist. She was in love with Celino Carvanna.
She had to bring it to the brutal conclusion now or forever give up on her revenge. She had promised herself at the start of the mission that she would remain strong and finish it, but she’d grossly underestimated her own heart.
It would be so easy to surrender. To simply let him carry her off, to become his. He would never have to know the truth.
Twelve years, she reminded herself. Twelve years of rejection and quiet pain, of feeling broken, as if a vital part of her was lost. Twelve years of controlled anger.
A storm was locked inside her and it was tearing her apart.
She cried and when her sobs exhausted her, she washed her face and once again faced the screen.
You can’t smelt happiness from a lie. She knew him, but he did not know her.
She had to end it.
Celino was enraged. The first time Meli had ignored his call, he dismissed it. Perhaps she was in the shower or out at the market. He was in the middle of a smoking ruin awaiting excavation of the reactor and his time was limited to a few precious seconds.
The second time she refused to accept him, he called the man he had left watching her house. The man’s personal unit was set to Do Not Disturb.
Worry shot through him. Ignoring the explanation of the diagnostic engineers, he stole a minute of precious time to queue up the camera he had planted in the garden on his personal unit. The camera captured the door and he saw Meli move past the screen inside. He pinged her again and watched her ignoring his call.
Perhaps his man was inside. Perhaps she had invited him in. Maybe he was in her bed.
His face must’ve turned dark because people around him fell silent. He moved and they scurried out of his way, reading death in his eyes.
An hour later, when he ended the investigation and entered his aerial, he saw a notification of a private message. He locked the doors and brought it up. A “recording disabled” warning popped up—the message would play only once. He wouldn’t get a chance to keep it or replay it. “Accept,” he ground out through his teeth.
Meli filled the screen. Her hair was pulled back. She wore a grey tactical vest over a grey shirt. He had no idea she owned one.
“Your man is in the kitchen. I tranquilized him, but he should come to his senses by the time your crew gets here. I’m leaving you, Celino.”
Pain lanced him.
“This is the end. You will never see me again. A man once told me that even if he met the most elegant and refined being on the planet, he would push her aside, because he valued his freedom more. This is me pushing you aside, Celino. After years of waiting, I’m finally free of you.”
He forced himself to punch through the pain clawing at him and concentrate on her words. They seemed hauntingly familiar but he couldn’t recall if he had said them or if they were said to him. He knew he had heard those words spoken before.
“Thank you for my freedom. I will strive to never think of you again. Farewell.”
The screen went dark. He felt oddly calm. Empty. Cold. He sat before the dark screen, patiently waiting to feel something. Anything at all.
Finally a spark of emotion flared in him. He puzzled over it and recognized what it was. Hot, blinding rage.
It took him less than an hour to cover the distance that typically demanded two and a half. He nearly burned out the aerial’s engine. When he dropped out of the sky at reckless speed to land on the slab before her house and stepped out of the cabin, his crew recognized signs of danger and gave him a wide berth. Only Marcus dared to approach him. Celino looked at his face. The Anglican shook his blond head. Meli had escaped.
Inside, the house was gutted. The linen, the pillows, every scrap or fabric or cloth was gone. Her terminal was missing, removed from the wall. The kitchen lay barren, every item sanitized.
Celino found the biotech. “Tell me you have something.”
The woman shook her head. “The place is sterilized. She did a complete sweep, probably using a bioscanner. There are no traces of biologicals except for the plants in the garden.”
He growled. He’d had countless opportunities to obtain a