CHAPTER 41

LEXIE

Real state. She hadn’t seen every house the organization had at its disposal, but having invested in real state was one of the most profitable venues they tried.

She was glad to see it when she did her analysis, but now, looking at one of those houses from the inside, things didn’t look so great.

Yeah, the house was perfectly big and cozy, with enough rooms to make any family man —or woman’s— mouth water. Like one of those rockstar houses you see on TV.

Now she wasn’t so sure. How would the guys find her? It was almost comical. The best house she ever been in would be her last. Who knows how many people are buried in this garden.

But she played her hand well.

They were going to put a bag on her head and suffocate her.

“We’ll throw your body to the Hudson,” Oscar said with a grin.

Theodore kept his gun pointed at her, back on the parking lot, before they got in the car. She thought they’d put her in the trunk, but she came up with an idea.

“You’re fucked,” she told Oscar, “no turning back, you asshole.”

“You think? Because it seems to me you’re the one who’s fucked.”

“I sent them the books.”

That made him stop. He never thought of that. Now he knew they’d come after him, even after she was dead.

Even if I didn’t send them anything.

He threatened, furious, he yelled and slapped and put his gun on her head. He needed to see the files she sent. But she kept her mouth shut. He slapped her again a few times, but she just smiled.

Hiding the pain was the best thing she could do right now, keep her head down, try to negotiate.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” He said with his rat voice, red with anger.

She couldn’t help but laugh, “weren’t you going to, anyway?”

He smacked the side of her face and she just started laughing. He had the motherfucker in her pocket. No way he could threaten her any longer.

When they arrived, he took his computer out, put it in front of her and sat her at the dinner table, threatening her, trying to make her download the files from her email folder.

She wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll let you go,” he said, almost pleading, “we can do something about this. Just leave New York city, flee, hell, I’ll even make a deposit on your account. One million.”

One million dollars. Her life would be settled. She could buy a house like this, and put it for rent. She could decorate it with the most expensive furniture.

She held back a smile. This is the comfiest chair I’ve ever sat on.

The table was top quality, too. The way she paid attention to such details was just too funny. The rugs, the smells —old wood— the big windows, the gardens on the front and back, the trees surrounding the house. The big driveway. It was a beautiful mansion. And it would be her end.

She didn’t reply. Oscar needed the info to see what he could do about it. To see what kind of damage he had to deal with. He could manipulate the numbers again, to his advantage.

But if the brothers went to some other expert and they confirmed she was right, he’d be fucked.

“I wanted to do this the easy way,” he said, “Theo, tie her up.”

“With what?” he asked.

“Find something!”

The bodyguard opened a few drawers on the shelves behind the long mahogany table she sat at. He found nothing, went to the kitchen, then to another room. It’s not like they have rope available for situations like this.

Oscar looked outside the door, to the main hallway, waiting for him to come back. He had his gun down, no longer pointing at her.

For a second she thought about trying to escape. No.

This man was much less constrained than his thugs. He’d just shoot her, then cry about it and blame her for his stupidity.

She had to play their game.

“Found this,” Theodore said, brown packing tape in his hands.

“Great,” Oscar said, “great.”

Theodore didn’t have to say anything, just raised his hands and grabbed hers, and tied her wrists behind her back.

“I’m going to ask again,” Oscar said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket “or I’ll start working you up until you talk, understood?”

She didn’t move. He’s going to torture me. He’s going to burn my face.

A cold shiver ran down her spine, she held back tears, her throat felt swollen and tight.

“And believe me, darling. You’ll talk. Everybody talks, in the end.”

“Fuck you,” she whimpered, no longer believing she had the upper hand.

I’m on borrowed time. She repeated the mantra again and again. She found herself and knew she was much braver and smarter than she thought. They made her see that.

And she had found real love.

She wasn’t afraid to die. Not anymore.

But it was the working up to it that scared her.

The empty silence of the room was broken.

“What the fuck was that?”

She had never heard anything like it, like a lonely firecracker going off in the distance, but she knew what it was: a gunshot.

It was like angels coming down from the heavens to rescue her.

Theodore pulled his gun from the holster, “wait here,” he said, and bolted to the main door.

Oscar began to shake.

“They’re here!” He yelled, pulling up his gun, pointing it at her, “what the fuck did you do?”

She almost laughed.

They might have come to save her, but Oscar was a coward. Someone who thought guns and money make the man.

“Pathetic,” she blurted out.

If he was going to kill her, she might as well let him know she wasn’t going to die scared.

Oscar cocked the gun and raised it to her forehead.

“You fucking bitch,” he said with his ratty voice, “you just signed your death sentence.”