CHAPTER 19

We arrived in Malibu at dawn. The mansion was silent and deserted, a stark contrast to the scene I left here. Everything was clean and spotless, looking ready to welcome me. But the climate was strange, cold. We couldn't sleep, it's crazy how I realized that this wasn't where I belonged. Blanca and I searched the entire house, from top to bottom, without leaving a corner untouched. The only thing we found of James and Clara were photos. Pictures of trips, weddings, scenes from everyday life. Nothing that explicitly revealed who Clara was, apart from the obvious: a mercenary. I found the address of Dominus and a magnetic badge "mine" in the hoplitic. But no documents, no deeper records. Nothing. Everything was impersonal, as if someone had wiped away any trace.

James' office was empty. No documents, no files. Not even his laptop was there. The emptiness gave me an uncomfortable, almost desperate feeling. It was then that an idea occurred to me: Everything concerning James and Clara should be at Dominus. It's the only logical place.

So we got on a plane and flew to New York. And now here we are, standing in front of an imposing building with modern architecture, all the floors covered in mirrored glass. There is no explicit identification on the façade, just an entrance flanked by security guards who exude authority. I get out of the rental car feeling the anxiety eating away at me. I don't know what to expect here, but I already want to leave. The security guards look at me for a moment, then turn their attention away, but not before making a brief gesture of recognition. I'm supposed to go here a lot, aren't I?

“You were the former owner's wife... and now, are you the current owner's or did you break up?”, Blanca asks casually, but her words bring back the memory of Dominique, and my throat tightens

“I don't know, Blan. I don't know…”

She holds my arms tightly, staring at me.

“Next, remember Chérie's party?”

I nod my head in agreement.

“It's the same. Stick out your nose, parade and, if there's a wall, swerve. Right?”

“Right.”

I take a deep breath, trying to pull myself together. I lift my chin, but the movement makes my ribs protest. I ignore the pain and walk slowly, my heels tapping against the polished marble floor. The whole building seems to exude power, but not a flashy power, it's a functional coldness, made to intimidate. I adjust my strapless black dress, trying not to show weakness, while my eyes quickly scan the strategically placed security cameras. The entrance hall is minimalist and elegant.

“Who are we going to talk to now?”, Blanca asks, looking around

I show her the badge I found in the library.

“I think it's a magnetic card. My guess is that we have to use it in the elevator and go to the top floor. Dom has always stayed at the top, so I assume that's how it works here. They stand above everything, watching their subordinates.”

“I still can't believe you were a mercenary, you know? You don't look the part. But I understand. I used to be a drug addict”, she shrugs, whispering as if it were something trivial.

The surprise leaves me speechless for a moment.

“Now that I know what's wrong with you, here's what's wrong with me”, she adds, quietly.

Before I can answer, a man in a suit emerges from the side. He is tall, with a neutral, almost robotic expression.

“Good afternoon, Miss Mackay. Please come with me.”

Blanca and I exchanged a look full of questions.

“I don't think we'll need any help”, she comments, as she watches the man lead us away, “Not for nothing, Kiki, but you arrived in Monaco with the same face he has.”

“Idiot.”

She laughs, but I just sigh. The man takes us to the elevator and uses a magnetic key, like the one I'm holding, to access a restricted floor. The panel has no numbers or buttons, just a digital display showing the word "authorized". The doors close in silence and I feel a strange tightness in my chest. This isn't where I belong... if it once was, it isn't anymore.

When we open the doors, we are faced with a smooth, lacquered floor, impeccably clean and black. The man leads us into a large waiting room. At the front, an exuberant door dominates the space. The man walks across the room with firm steps and stops in front of the door, opening it with ease.

“The boss is waiting for you”, he says, unceremoniously.

For a moment, I feel a shiver run through my body, from head to toe.

“Who's your boss?”, I ask, already taking a few steps back, accompanied by Blanca, who also moves backwards, “Dom is in Monaco, isn't he?”

Before the man can answer, the doorknob begins to move slowly. I hold my breath, my chest constricted by an impossible idea. Is James alive? It can't be... and then, as the door opens fully, I see Vlad emerge, a smile on his face and his arms open. I let out a sigh of relief.

“What's that, Chocolate? Are you trying to kill me?”, Blanca says, shaking her head dramatically

I walk up to Vlad and hug him. He hugs back firmly.

“I was so worried, Clara…”, he says, in a tone that mixes affection and concern.

“You can call me Kiki, okay?”, I answer with a restrained smile.

“Are you going to keep Kiki?”, Blanca comments, already entering the room, “Chocolate, any champagne?”

I look at Vlad in denial.

“You're going to drink water to clean out that liver or whatever you've got, Blan!”, I call her attention.

“Okay... no alcohol”, she mumbles, adjusting her skirt neutrally.

Vlad gestures for us to enter and closes the door behind us.

“I imagined that Mr. Le Blanc had told you about my change of position.”

I shake my head in denial.

“He hasn't said anything. He's... monosyllabic, you know? Dom didn't want me to come…”

“You suffered too much, it was horrible for him to see you in that state. I don't know if I'd do it any differently.”

Vlad explains, in an almost paternal tone.

“You mean you're not going back to Monaco?”, I mislead him.

“To visit you, of course. But you can come here whenever you want... in fact, I was surprised to hear that you came so quickly.”

“And who wouldn't?”, Blanca comments, already settling down on the sofa, “For once in my life, Dominique isn't wrong.”

I roll my eyes at Blanca.

“I need to know more about Clara. I searched the house in Malibu and found nothing, so I concluded that she must be here”, I turn my attention to Vlad.

“And, as always, you're right”, Vlad smiles, “After everything that's happened, I've taken the liberty of withdrawing any information about Clara. Don't get me wrong, Kiki, it was just a precaution. At first, I thought it would be better if you had no contact with her. Because I know Kiki, and she's not Clara.”

I nod in agreement.

“I know, Vlad. But I need to meet her and it would be really nice if you stopped trying to stop me... it's my past.”

“Right.”

Vlad confirms it, but his countenance is the same as Dom's. Disgusted and annoyed.

With his impeccable elegance, Vlad walks over to a shelf crammed with books that covers the wall from end to end. He presses an almost imperceptible button and a built-in safe appears. After entering the password, the steel door opens with a subtle click. From there, he takes out a bulky briefcase and walks over to me, handing it over carefully. I hold the briefcase tightly.

“You can stay here. Blanca and I are going to have a little chat outside. Afterall, she hasn't been discharged from hospital and her dad has heard about it and he's not happy…”

“For God's sake, Vlad, do something! Don't let him know I'm here”, Blanca gestures, desperately.

“He already knows.”

“I'm really fucked, and not in a good way!”, she says, covering her eyes with her hand, “That man hell!”

I shake my head in disapproval.

“You're involved with some heavy hitters, and you didn't tell me? Don't tell me you're a mobster!”

“It's worse…”, she whispers.

“Blanca…”, Vlad calls, in a tone that mixes calm and tranquility.

I'm suddenly worried. Vlad notices my expression and gives me a calming look.

“Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks. It could be much worse, but I can't talk. And neither can she”, he takes his cell phone out of his pocket and types in a few numbers, speaking into it, “She's just arrived, I'll put her on.”

“That's treason, Chocolate, of the worst kind!”, Blanca says, furiously.

Blanca gets up, indignant, takes the cell phone from Vlad's hand and puts it to her ear, leaving the room with him. The last thing I hear before the door closes is:

“You don't give me peace even on another continent!”

I take the opportunity to approach the imposing office chair in the center of the room. Sitting with my briefcase on my lap, I feel the weight of what is to come.

Location: Berlin

Target: Reinhardt Vogel

Classification: Red Priority

I arrived at 11.47pm, positioning myself in the building to the east of the restaurant. The target arrived at 00:02 with two useless security guards. Initial monitoring with the R700. Vogel ordered wine, predictable and pathetic.

At 00:14, I pulled the trigger. A clean shot to the right side of the skull. He toppled over, the wine flowed and the companions froze like sheep at the slaughter.

Exfiltration in two minutes. I grabbed a drunk's jacket and disappeared into the crowd. At 00:23, I was out of the risk area.

 There's a comment from James at the bottom in red: you're the best and there's not a soul left to disagree, baby. -J

——————————

Location: Caracas

Target: Montenegro family

Rating: Total Extermination

I arrived at the estate at 03:16. The guards were as useless as the surveillance system. I killed the first at the gate with a direct blow to the throat, the second didn't even have time to react before collapsing with the blade through the back of his head.

Inside the house, it was quick. The father tried to reach for a gun, but fell before he even understood what was happening, three precise shots. The woman intercedes for her children. I gave her the favor of being next.

The children wanted to hide. I remember hearing muffled sobs in one of the cupboards. The smallest looked at me, wide-eyed, holding a teddy bear. He didn't beg, but it would have been useless. I fired two shots. I left no trace.

In less than fifteen minutes, the blood of all the Montenegrins stained the ground. No regrets, no hesitation. My mission was to clear this family's name from the world, and so it was done.

There's another comment from him at the bottom in cursive in a shade of red: exceptional work as always, baby. - J

I spend the next few hours reading all the reports. I'm struck by the coldness in every line and there's something disturbing in the form of pleasure that seeps into the incentives James gave Clara, they were compliments for something brutal. With every page I turn, I come to one conclusion: we both deserved each other. I was a killing machine, and he was the proud creator.

I knew I wouldn't like this reality. Not that James' actions have any justification, because they don't, but I understand. I betrayed his trust. Even if I don't remember who I was, it must have been unbearable for him. Digesting the idea that his wife has forgotten you and is now living another life, with another man. And, to be honest, from what's written here, and with everything I know now, James wouldn't have acted any other way. It couldn't be any different. I am, or was, just as much a bastard as he was. My stomach clenches, the tears I've tried to hold back for so long escape, streaming down my face.

In addition to all these reports, I find a medical record from the company itself, detailing the help given after an attempt to poison Clara. This explains my current fear of food. Clara was not only his wife, but also James' weak point within the company. Many hated her for her arrogant and overbearing behavior. Nevertheless, she had James in her hands because of her skills. Clara had everything she wanted: power, money, adrenaline. She feared nothing and no one. Not that my current version doesn’t, but apparently... it doesn't matter. Clara was despicable. There's so much to take in, and all I can think about is Dom. It's insane to imagine that one day I might wake up and Clara will be back, ready to destroy everything.  Is that even possible? No, I'd have a sense of right and wrong. But what if something happens and I forget about Dom? Worse, what if I hurt him?

Dom can't stay with me. He can't. I'm a bomb. But when I remember, maybe I'll hate everything. Maybe I'll kill everyone around me, without thinking, without caring. That's what I am, isn't it? My hands tremble. My chest is heavy. My heart is screaming, but I don't know if it's out of fear, guilt or despair. I just know that, if this happens, I won't stop. And maybe I should end it all before it gets to that point. Before I destroy everything. Before I destroy you.

I grab my bag and get up from my chair, walking around the room while I call Dom. My fingers tremble, making it difficult, but he answers quickly.

“Kiki?”

I can't answer. I feel the tears falling hard as I squeeze my cell phone between my fingers. I take a deep breath, trying to control the chaos inside me.

“Dolly?”

“I don't want to hurt you…”

I mutter, my voice breaking.

“What?”, his voice sounds confused on the other end.

“I saw the reports and…”, I nod my head, even though I know he can't see me, “I can't do this to you, understand? I'm just like James, if not worse... A monster! I'll destroy everything around me, it's only a matter of time. It's my instinct. I'm an assassin, Dom…”

My voice breaks as I say it, as if each word tears my throat.

The door opens forcefully, and I turn around, startled, to face Dominique. My heart stops at the sight of him. What is he doing here? His gray gaze searches for mine with intensity and he walks towards me, turning off his cell phone and putting it in his pocket. His blond hair is neatly combed, and his dark suit suits him so well.

“You're not like him.”

He says quietly, coming closer, while his hands hold my face carefully, sliding his thumbs across my cheeks, drying my tears. His touch is warm, comfortable... but his gray gaze stares at me with the same intensity as always, which seems to burn every piece of who I am. Your woody scent invades my senses, as always, making me feel safe, at home

“Have you read the papers?”, I ask, with a firm tone.

“Each one of them”, he answers.

 I look away, returning my attention.

“And yet, knowing that Clara is crazy and an unscrupulous killer who would kill for the pleasure of feeling adrenaline and who has come to execute her best friend... Dominique?!”, my tone is desperate, “Maurice wasn't wrong to say that one day you might turn up dead.”

Dom frowns.

“That's why you shouldn't have come here, but you're stubborn, you like to torture yourself. I knew you were involved in something heavy from the first moment. That's why I always told you to ignore the past and take the chance to start over in any way you wanted. It was he who did this to you, of course. Clara was molded and trained to kill, not you…”, Dom caresses my face, and I look away for a moment, “Look at me”, his tone is firm, almost an order, “It'll be all right, dolly... and if one day you remember, we'll deal with it together. Until then, leave that bitch in her place and come home with me.”

I smile.

“You're crazy... and you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Dom.”

The silence between us needs no words. It's as if he's already heard everything I feel, everything I fear, just by looking at me. My breathing is heavy, as is his. He leans towards me, pressing his body against mine. His presence dominating every space around me. Dom slips one hand firmly around my waist and with the other pulls my hair away, exposing my neck. The heat of his breath makes me shudder before his teeth even sink into my skin. He bites down hard, possessively, enough to elicit a hoarse moan from me. The shiver that runs through my body is instantaneous, like an electrifying short circuit. I'm his, there's no denying it. I tilt my head to the side, giving myself up completely. When he raises his face, our gazes meet, intense, charged. Our mouths meet in a desperate, hungry kiss. As if we were at war with who we are. My hands run up his arms to his shoulders, grabbing his white shirt, pulling him closer, wanting him to melt into me. Dom holds me even tighter, exploring my mouth with a voracity that makes me forget everything, the past, fear, the world. I don't care about Clara or anything else that involves that part of my life, because I am Kiara Lefebvre!