Chapter Seven

Crossing lines…

Eric's pov

The helicopter touched down on Roy’s private estate, blades cutting the night air like sharpened knives.

I stepped out, adjusting my tie—not because it was out of place, but because I needed my hands busy. If I didn’t, I might walk in there and end this too fast.

Roy was leaning against the doorframe of the main house, arms crossed.

“In the basement,” he said, with a serious tone. “They’re tied. No one touched them.”

The basement smelled faintly of metal and fear.

I adjusted my tie, more out of habit than necessity, and walked down the steps with the same pace I’d take to a dinner meeting. Violence, like business, is best handled without hurry.

Liam was tied to a steel chair in the center of the room. His shirt clung to him, soaked from the bucket of water someone had already thrown over him. His lips were split, one eye already swelling.

Reina sat a few feet away, her wrists bound behind her, ankles tied to the chair legs.

Beside her stood Celine—one of my most efficient subordinates. A beautiful woman in her early thirties with dark hair tied in a sleek braid, leather gloves on her hands. Calm. Deadly. She didn’t speak unless she had to, and when she did, it was never good news for the person listening.

“Boss,” she greeted with a small nod.

I returned it and moved to stand in front of Liam, my hands in my pockets.

“Liam,” I said evenly, “I gave you chances. More than you deserved. And instead of using them, you touched what’s mine.”

“I didn’t—”

I backhanded him, sharp enough to snap his head to the side. The room went silent again, except for the faint drip of water somewhere in the corner.

“Don’t waste my time with lies.”

Celine shifted her attention to Reina, pulling a small blade from her belt. She didn’t look at me for permission. She didn’t need to.

Reina’s breath hitched as Celine pressed the tip of the knife to her cheek—not enough to cut deep, but enough to draw a thin line of blood.

I kept my gaze on Liam. “Do you know why she’s here too?”

His jaw clenched.

“Because she was the one whispering in your ear. Planting ideas. Making you believe you could stand on my level. She told you I was distracted, didn’t she? That I wouldn’t notice if you took Janessa.”

Reina tried to speak, but Celine grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth shut.

“Every empire falls from the inside first,” I continued. “But you?” I crouched down so I was eye level with him. “You’re not clever enough to destroy me from within. You’re just another man with a death wish.”

Celine’s blade moved lower, tracing a slow, deliberate line from Reina’s cheek to her collarbone. Reina flinched, her breathing uneven.

“Do you want to watch her bleed?” I asked Liam, my tone almost casual. “Because she’s going to. That’s inevitable. The only question is whether you bleed with her… or before her.”

His eyes darted to Reina, then back to me.

“That’s what I thought,” I murmured. “You care, but not enough. Not enough to take her place.”

I stood, pulling a chair in front of him and sitting down like we were having coffee. “Tell me everything—every detail of how you planned it. Every name involved. Every place you touched her. Because if I find out you’re holding anything back, Celine won’t use that knife anymore. She’ll use the pliers.”

Reina let out a muffled whimper as Celine gripped her chin tighter.

Liam broke first. They always did. He spat out names, timelines, places. I listened, silent, memorizing each one.

When he was done, I leaned back in the chair. “Good. You just bought yourself ten more minutes of breathing.”

Celine glanced at me, and I gave a slight nod.

She moved to Reina’s side, cutting away part of her blouse with surgical precision. The cold air in the basement hit skin, and Reina shuddered. Then Celine pressed the flat of the blade against her ribs, letting her feel the steel before slicing—slow, deliberate, shallow enough to hurt but not kill.

Reina’s scream tore through the room.

I didn’t flinch. “That’s for touching her,” I said calmly.

Celine wiped the blade on Reina’s skirt, her face unreadable.

I stood, walking behind Liam’s chair, resting my hands lightly on his shoulders. “This is where I tell you that I could kill you right now… but I won’t. Because death would be a mercy. Instead, I’m going to let you live long enough to see her again—scarred, broken, and knowing it’s your fault.”

He froze, breathing hard.

“And when you can’t take that anymore,” I added, leaning down so my lips were inches from his ear, “I’ll be there to finish it.”

I straightened, signaling to Celine. She cut the ropes on Reina’s ankles—not to free her, but to drag her to the far wall where shackles hung. Reina struggled, but Celine slammed her into place with one sharp movement.

“Leave them,” I said. “No food. No light. I’ll decide when I want to hear them again.”

Celine nodded, stepping back.

I walked to the door without another glance. My suit was still immaculate, my pulse steady, the blood from Reina dried in my eyebrow. That was the thing about men like me—violence didn’t shake us. It was just another part of the business that personally needed my presence.

And tonight’s business was far from over. Roy told me Janessa was staying at her aunt’s house, keeping her disguise after what happened. My car was too big for the village, so I walked, rain soaking me through.

When I reached the house, I knocked again and again—no answer. I did what I always do: slipped in through the window.

She was there, barefoot, just waking up, grabbing a glass of water. She looked so small, so unaware of me. When she noticed someone's presence, which was me, she went to her room—but came back holding a knife.

I hold his shoulder from the back. She froze.

“Don't move.”

Damn it... Now she thinks I'm an Intruder.