Login via

The Rose He Killed novel Chapter 210

Chapter 189:

Jade pov

What I had not accounted for was sitting in the van, watching the live feed from that grey room, and seeing a five-year-old refuse to cry

He eventually cried. At the end, when he had nothing left. But for the first six hours, he had simply sat there. Back against the wall, knees to his chest, jaw set in that way that was so completely Caleb’s face on a child’s face it made me want to put my fist through something. He had talked to the wall. He had pressed his hand flat against the floor like he was steadying himself. He had looked at the camera once, directly, like he knew someone was watching, and then looked away with the deliberate composure of someone who had decided not to give whoever was watching the satisfaction.

He was five years old.

And when Marco had brought him food-a simple enough gesture, intended to keep him cooperative and quiet-Tom had looked at the plate, looked at Marco, and said, very clearly, “No thank you.”

I had heard it through the feed and felt a completely irrational spike of fury.

No thank you. Like he was at a dinner party. Like he was above the food. Like he was Bella, exactly-the specific brand of dignified refusal that Bella used when she wanted to communicate contempt without saying a word.

Marco had come back to the van looking unsettled. “The kid won’t eat,” he said.

‘Then leave him,” I said.

‘He said no thank you,” Marco said, like this was something that required reporting.

‘I heard him.”

“He’s five.”

“I am aware of how old he is, Marco.”

Marco had shaken his head and gone back in. I had watched on the feed as Tom went back to talking to the wall, and I had felt the specific, grinding frustration of someone who had planned every detail of an operation and had not planned for a five-year-old with manners and a jaw like a Black.

When Marco came back the second time with water and Tom said “No thank you” again with that same infuriating composure, I had actually reached for the van door handle.

“Where are you going?” Piet said.

“To explain to that child,” I said, “that this is not a game he is winning.”

Piet put his hand on my arm. Not roughly-just firmly, the way you stop someone from doing something they’ll regret. “You go in there and you make this personal, the whole operation changes shape. You hired us to manage this. Let us manage it.”

I looked at his hand on my arm.

W

Chapter 189

Then I let go of the door handle and sat back.

Claim

He was right, which made it worse. Going in there would have been stupid-emotional and stupid-and I was neither of those things.

But I had wanted to. I had genuinely, specifically wanted to walk into that grey room and tell Bella’s perfect, composed son exactly what I thought of his manners, his jaw, and his refusal to simply behave like a frightened child the way he was supposed to.

Eventually, one of the other men-the younger one, who had apparently decided that a child refusing food was a personal affront-had sat down across from Tom and said something low and sharp that I couldn’t hear clearly on the feed.

Tom had looked at him. Then Tom ate the food. He did it slowly and without any expression, looking off

into the distance.

I had watched that and thought-against my will, against everything-he is exactly like her.

I closed the laptop.

My second phone buzzed. I didn’t know the number, but I knew the country code so I answered.

“Miss Hart.” The voice was male, accented, and careful. “I understand there was a problem this morning.”

I knew the voice. This was the main contact. Not the leader of the team in the warehouse, but the boss above him. I had only spoken to him once, at the very beginning, when I was explaining what I needed and how much I would pay.

“There was a failure,” I said. “Not a problem. I like to use the right words.”

“Of course.” He said. “I want to promise you that we are handling the situation, our man got away. The link connecting us to you is.”

“Cut,” I said. “I cut it myself this morning. You are calling a number that will be gone in four hours.” I stopped for a second. “What do you want?”

“To talk about what we do next,” he said. “You paid for the result, but you didn’t get that result. Usually, clients in your position want to talk about other choices.”

I looked at the river. A boat moved slowly across the grey water, going somewhere I couldn’t see.

“What kind of choices?” I asked.

“More direct ones,” he said. “The boy is hard to get now-he is famous and will have a lot of security from now on. But the woman herself or the man. Getting rid of either one gives you what you want, and it is much less.”

“No,” I said.

“Miss Hart”

“I said no.” My voice was completely flat. “I don’t want them dead. Death is too simple. Death makes her a martyr, makes him a grieving widower, and gives everyone a clean story to tell.”

Chapter 180

Claim

Istood up from the table and walked to the window. “I want her to lose. I want her to understand what it Teels like to have everything taken away, slowly, by someone who was supposed to love her. The way she

made me feel.” I stopped. “That is the only result I care about. Can you do that or not?”

A long silence followed

“That is a much harder job, he said finally.

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m willing to pay for it.” I turned away from the window. “Give me two weeks. I need to figure out a new plan. When I’m ready, contact you the usual way.”

“Two weeks,” he said.

“Two weeks,” I agreed.

Verify captcha to read the content.VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: The Rose He Killed