Chapter 28

Fury doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. I’m seething, boiling over with rage. Once again, she slipped through my fingers. Once again, Sophia defied death when she should’ve been lying in a grave.

“Explain to me how the hell she’s still breathing,” I demand, glaring at Vincent.

He shifts uncomfortably. “I swear, I had her this time. I was inches away from ending her when that damn bodyguard showed up.”

Does he take me for a fool? I know exactly what happened. All I’ve gotten from him are excuses since this operation began. Three failures. Three times she’s walked away unscathed. The only silver lining? I haven’t paid him a dime. Imagine handing over half a million dollars for nothing.

That money should’ve been motivation enough. It was supposed to ensure he finished the job on time.

I down my whiskey, the burn doing nothing to soothe my frustration.

“Really? You ‘almost had her’? Is that why you’re bleeding?” My voice is sharp, each word dripping with venom.

“I’ll get her next time. She won’t escape again,” he mutters, eyes glued to the floor.

“She’s already escaped you three times!” I roar, the urge to end his pathetic life overwhelming.

He stays silent, staring at the ground like it holds the answers.

This idiot has set me back months. Sophia was supposed to be dead long ago. Yet here we are, with her still breathing, still in my way.

I was told Vincent was the best. That he’d deliver. So far? Nothing but empty promises.

“How is it possible that you can’t kill one woman? How hard can it be?”

It’s baffling. Three attempts. Three failures. The third time should’ve been the charm, yet she’s still alive. Bruised, but alive.

“I don’t fucking know,” he snarls, frustration etched into his face. “I’ve never had this much trouble before. Usually, it’s done on the first try.”

I pace, agitation coiling in my chest. This was supposed to be simple. Sophia was the only obstacle between me and what I wanted. I’d planned this the moment I realized her death was necessary.

At first, I wanted it to look like an accident. The last thing I needed was cops sniffing around. The Reapers’ Angels provided the perfect cover—until they figured out it was all a setup. Now, they’ll come for Vincent, then me.

I didn’t go through all this just to lose.

“Fuck!” I hurl my glass against the wall, shattering it.

Time is running out. I should be reaping the rewards of my efforts. Instead, I’m nowhere near my goal. In fact, it feels further away than ever.

“Give me one last chance,” Vincent pleads.

I sneer. “So you can fail again? Not happening.”

What is it about Sophia that death refuses to claim her? I don’t believe in divine intervention, but it’s starting to seem like someone’s watching over her. Surviving three attempts isn’t just luck—it’s unnatural.

She’s the luckiest woman I’ve ever encountered. And her luck is pissing me off. I always get what I want. Always. But Sophia’s death? It’s proving impossible.

“I’d like to see you do better,” he scoffs, snapping me out of my thoughts.

That mocking tone is the last straw. I grab the nearest object—a whiskey bottle—and hurl it at his face. He doesn’t dodge. The bottle cracks against his skull, blood trickling from his brow.

A smirk tugs at my lips. His pain eases my anger, if only slightly.

“Care to repeat that?”

He clenches his jaw, glaring but silent. At least he knows when to shut up.

“There has to be a way to end this quickly. I’ve wasted enough time on her,” I mutter, more to myself.

If her death wasn’t crucial to my plan, I’d have given up by now. But every failed attempt risks exposure. And that can’t happen. Not when I’m this close.

“Look, she’s clearly not easy to kill. Add the cops and her billionaire husband’s protection, and it’s nearly impossible,” Vincent says, dragging me back to reality.

My hands clench at the mention of Ethan. I don’t need him stating the obvious. But fine, let him pretend he’s useful.

I sit, thinking. The old plan failed. I need something new. Something guaranteed.

This time, I won’t focus solely on her. If collateral damage is necessary, so be it. If I have to bring down an entire building to ensure she dies, I will.

A slow smile spreads across my face. The solution is clear.

“You’re smiling. Got a plan?” Vincent asks, hopeful.

His DNA is on file. I’ll deal with that before they connect him to me.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I stand, smirking.

He mirrors my expression, satisfaction radiating off him.

This time, Sophia dies. Even if I have to do it myself.