Kill him

_Amelie’s POV_

My eyes met Dante’s as I followed Vargas up the staircase. He gave me a curt nod as if to tell me I was doing good.

As if to say he approved of what I was doing. And for a moment I wanted to turn around and walk away.

It was infuriating to have him do that as if I didn’t know what to do.

The study door clicked shut behind us, muffling the sounds of the party into a distant hum.

It was just me and Vargas now.

Nothing could save me now. But of course, I didn't need saving.

I let him lead me deeper inside, into the low, amber-lit room lined with dark bookshelves and heavy leather furniture. Everything smelled like money, cigars, and old blood.

His family was quite obviously filthy rich.

He poured two glasses of whiskey without asking if I wanted one. He didn’t need to. In his mind, I was already his.

Good.

Let him think that.

His delusions could be the end of him,

I accepted the glass, letting my fingers graze his as I took it.

I could feel the pulse in his wrist — stea