Stepping stone

MARK

  Finally, Elara was out of my life. The relief washed over me like a cold wave as I sat in the private VIP waiting room near the airstrip.

  Outside, the storm was raging, hammering against the glass windows, but inside, everything was quiet and expensive. Two freaking years of faking love were finally over. Two years of holding her hand, listening to her boring dreams, and pretending to be the "perfect gentleman" were done.

  I took a sip of the vintage champagne and smiled at my reflection in the dark window. I used the opportunity to pull my beloved girlfriend or rather wife, Zane, onto my lap. She giggled and wrapped her arms around my neck, looking nothing like the shy, glasses-wearing secretary she had pretended to be for the last two years.

  We had been together for five years, long before I ever met Elara. It was all planned perfectly. I hired Zane as my assistant so we could be together right under Elara’s nose. That stupid heiress never suspected a thing. She thought Zane was just the quiet girl who fetched her coffee, never realizing Zane was the woman that owns my heart.

  "Thank goodness I was very specific," I whispered, kissing Zane’s neck. "I told Elara I didn't want a big wedding. I told her I was 'intimidated' by her wealthy friends. She fell for it completely." Zane laughed, running her fingers through my hair. "She was so gullible. She actually thought you were shy." I nodded, feeling the satisfaction burn in my chest. "I made her cut the guest list down to nothing. Just her silly godmother and her daughter that blabbermouth friend, Sarah.

  On my side, I just introduced a few actors as my 'distant family.' We took our vows in that little church earlier, and I almost laughed in her face when she cried tears of joy." Zane kissed me hard. "But we are the ones laughing now. We took our real vows this morning, Mark. Just us and the money." I checked my Rolex. "Babe, hurry up and get the bags ready. Our flight leaves in forty-five minutes. First Class needs to settle in first. We’re going to Germany for our honeymoon, and I want to be drinking champagne in the air before anyone realizes the bride is missing."

  "What about Jason? He should be here by now," I asked with a concerned expression.

  "Speaking of the devil," Zane murmured, looking toward the heavy door. "Here he comes." Jason walked in. He looked like a total wreck compared to the clean elegance of the room. His cheap suit was soaked with rain, and his shoes were caked in fresh mud, but he had a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear.

  He grabbed a handful of nuts from the table and flopped down onto the leather sofa opposite us, not caring about the dirt he was spreading. "Is it done?" I asked, my voice dropping to a serious whisper. Jason chewed slowly, enjoying the moment. "It's done," he said, washing the nuts down with a stolen beer. "My driver and I took care of it. "We dumped her in the old textile factory and set it ablaze."

  She’s broken, Mark. Ribs, legs, everything. She won't survive up to 10 minutes in that burning factory, and even if she does, she’s finished."

  Zane let out a breath of relief, but her eyes narrowed. "What about the friend? What about that blabbermouth silly girl, Sarah? You said she was at a loose end." I looked at Jason too. Sarah was the only one smart enough to call the police. "Yeah, what about her? She was supposed to be at the church." Jason’s grin turned dark. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I handled her," Jason said calmly. "I didn't just call her. I was there. I went to her mother’s house while you guys were at the altar. Sarah came there. "And?" "And I startled her," Jason laughed, a cruel, unbothered sound. "I had my boys hold her down . Then, I took a wrench to her mother. I hit the old hag so hard she passed out cold. There was blood everywhere. Sarah was screaming, begging me to stop."

  "Did you kill the old woman?" Zane asked, looking impressed. "Maybe. Maybe not. She’s alive for now," Jason shrugged. "But I made it clear to Sarah. I told her that my boys are keeping an eye on her every move. I told her that if she makes any moves, if she calls the cops, or if she tries to look for Elara, she dies instantly." "So she’s stuck?" I asked. "She’s paralyzed," Jason confirmed. "She is sitting on that floor, holding her bleeding mother, too terrified to dial 911. She isn't thinking about Elara. She should be worried about her dead mother. I neutralized her completely." "Perfect," I said, feeling a surge of admiration for his cruelty. "Fear is better than a prison cell."

  I picked up my phone. It was time for the approved payout. "You earned it, Jason. Actually, you were right. Humility does it. The more I acted like I was nothing, the more Elara wanted to give me everything."

  I opened the banking app. The balance sat there, glittering on the screen: $84,000,000. "Fourty percent, as agreed," I said. I typed in the account number Jason had given me and hit transfer. Jason’s phone pinged.

  He pulled it out and stared at the screen. His eyes went wide. "$33,600,000" he whispered. "We actually did it." "We did," I said, standing up and buttoning my tuxedo jacket. "The perfect crime." The announcement for our flight chimed over the speakers. "That’s us," Zane cheered, grabbing her bag. "Honeymoon time!" We stood up. I felt lighter than air. I had the money, I had the girl, and the only person who could stop me was rotting in a ditch. "Enjoy Germany," Jason said, waving his beer bottle at us. "I’m heading to Mexico. Don't look back, Mark." I squeezed Zane’s hand and smiled. "I never look back." We walked out of the room toward the runway. I didn't think about Elara. I didn't think about her pain. I only thought about the castles I was going to buy and the fast cars I was going to drive. Elara Vance was just a stepping stone. And I had finally stepped off.