Chapter 99 The Game Ends for Desmond
DAVID
The black SUV hummed quietly as I parked it in the shadow of the looming estate. The air smelled of wet earth and gasoline, the kind of scent that carried secrets. I glanced at Janet in the passenger seat. Her nails tapped nervously against the side of her thigh, a tell she’d never learned to hide.
I pulled a small vial from my pocket, the liquid inside glinting like deceit under the car's dim light. "Here’s the plan," I began, my voice calm but firm. "Desmond is in that room right now. He’s already started drinking, and I’ll send you in shortly. Slip this into his drink. Quietly. He won’t suspect a thing."
Her eyes darted to the mansion ahead, then back to me. "How do you even know all this?" she asked, suspicion threading her voice.
I leaned back against the seat, letting the corner of my lips curl into a cryptic smile. "You’ll find out soon enough."
Her hand was already on the door handle when she froze. "Wait. Don’t he usually have guards? You’re sending me in there alone?"
I shook my head. "Not here. His secret house is just for his… entertainment. No guards, no cameras. Just him and his little collection of women. But you still need to be careful."
She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "What if he gets suspicious? What if something goes wrong?"
Reaching into the glove compartment, I retrieved a small recording device and pressed it into her hand. "I’ll be listening to everything," I said, my tone steady. "If anything feels off, say the word, and I’ll come in."
Her fingers tightened around the device, but doubt lingered in her gaze.
"Look," I said, nodding toward the mansion. A group of women in glittering dresses and high heels sauntered through the wide double doors, laughter spilling into the night. "See? He’s already busy. Just follow them. You’ll blend right in."
She inhaled deeply, squared her shoulders, and slipped out of the car.
I watched her join the line, her silhouette swallowed by the warm glow of the house. The tension in my chest coiled tighter as I adjusted the volume on the recorder, tuning into the muffled hum of voices.
"Come to me, babies," Desmond's voice slurred through the feed. "I’ll spend on you!"
Predictable. He was drunk, just as I’d planned.
Janet’s laugh cut through the static. "Who are you? You look beautiful," Desmond crooned.
Her tone turned playful, almost flirtatious. "Oh, I’m just admiring your house. It’s gorgeous."
"I can make it yours," he boasted, his words dripping with intoxicated confidence. "Spend the night with me, and it’s yours."
Her laugh came again, sharper this time. "Really? Then I guess I’m yours tonight."
Good. She was playing the part perfectly.
The minutes dragged into hours as I sat in the car, the stillness of the night gnawing at my patience. Then, suddenly, chaos erupted. Women burst from the mansion, their heels clattering against the driveway like panicked drums.
I straightened, my hand already on the door handle, when Janet appeared. She was dragging Desmond behind her, his lanky frame barely conscious.
"Will you just stand there or help me with this idiot?" she snapped, her voice edged with fury.
Suppressing a grin, I stepped out and joined her, grabbing Desmond’s arm. "You’re stronger than you look," I teased, hoisting him into the backseat.
"Don’t," she warned, climbing in after me. "I hate this. The way he touched my hand ugh!" She scrubbed at her palm with a tissue like it was infected.
I chuckled, sliding into the driver’s seat. "So, do you want his mansion now?"
She shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Not funny, David."
The drive back to my estate was quiet, save for the occasional grunt from Desmond as he stirred. My guards were already lined up at the gates when we arrived, their black uniforms stark against the mansion’s pristine façade.
"Take him to the interrogation room," I ordered as I stepped out. "I’ll deal with him when he wakes up."
Two of the guards nodded and dragged Desmond’s limp body inside. Janet followed close behind, muttering curses under her breath.
As I walked toward the entrance, my assistant hurried to meet me, a tablet clutched in his hands.
"Sir," he began, his face grim. "We have a problem."
I stopped, my jaw tightening. "What is it?"
"A video just came in from the prison," he said, pulling up the footage. "Paul was attacked by Eden. He’s in the hospital now."
I took the tablet, my eyes narrowing at the grainy clip of Paul lying on the floor, blood pooling beneath him. My grip on the device tightened until my knuckles turned white.
"This is the last time Paul sets foot in that prison," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "From the hospital, he’s going home. Permanently."
I handed the tablet back to my assistant, but as I turned to leave, his next words stopped me cold.
"Sir," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There’s more."
I faced him, my patience thinning. "What more?"
He hesitated, then pulled up another file on the tablet. This one wasn’t just a video it was a message. And it wasn’t from Paul or Eden.
It was from someone I hadn’t heard from in years.
The screen flickered to life, and the voice that came through was calm, chilling, and far too familiar.
"Hello, David," the voice said. "Did you really think I’d stay gone forever?"
The room seemed to close in, the weight of the past pressing down like a storm ready to break.