Chapter 8 Psychopath
Anna's POV
My throat went dry. My heart kicked once, hard, then steadied.
I stood still, weighing my choices. Reveal myself: claim the assassin’s mask? Or stay Anna, the foster daughter, the girl with no claws?
For now, I chose silence.
“This must be a misunderstanding—” I began.
“Shut up.” His voice was sharp, final.
Another man stepped forward from the shadows, his boots heavy against the floor.
The rifleman jerked his chin toward me. “Take her to the room upstairs.”
I lifted my chin, fighting the urge to bare my teeth. “What’s happening?”
“Shut. Up.”
This one had more venom in it, spat like a whip.
The second man motioned with his pistol, gesturing me forward. “Hands up. Move.”
I obeyed, raising my hands slowly. Cold metal pressed against my spine as he herded me toward the staircase.
My mind raced. Who were they? Mercenaries? Hired muscle? Has my cover been blown?
When we reached the landing, he shoved me left. “In there.”
The door was familiar. It was Patrick and Linda’s bedroom.
I stepped inside.
And froze.
Patrick and Linda were on their knees, their hands bound behind them. Linda’s hair was tangled, her face streaked with tears.
Patrick… Patrick was bleeding from the side of his head, blood soaking his collar.
For a heartbeat, satisfaction twisted in me. Patrick, broken. Patrick, on the ground. If only I could freeze this image and keep it.
But the scene didn’t give me time to enjoy it.
“Found this one downstairs, boss,” the man behind me said.
Boss? That was when I noticed there was another person in the room.
Slowly, I turned to see the boss I didn't notice in the room initially.
The ciger around his mouth was unmistakable. It was Xavier.
I swallowed hard.
He leaned casually in the chair, like this was his bedroom, his world, his rules.
My mouth went dry, the taste of smoke and fear burning the back of my throat.
His eyes lifted to mine, cutting me open without a word.
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, a smile dancing across his lips.
At first glance it looked harmless, almost boyish, but I knew better. That smile wasn’t meant to comfort, it was wicked.
“You must be Anna Robert, yes?” His voice dripped with amusement.
My throat tightened. I forced myself to nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
His eyes glimmered, satisfied. Then he turned lazily to Patrick. “And who’s she to you?”
Patrick opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Linda cut in, her voice trembling yet sharp. “She’s no one, she’s useless—”
The deafening sound of a gunshot rang through the room.
Linda’s head snapped back, blood spraying as her body slumped to the ground.
I froze. Patrick froze. The world seemed to freeze.
Patrick’s lips parted in a silent cry. His shoulders shook as tears welled up in his eyes.
Before he could release a sound, Xavier casually raised his hand and pressed two fingers against Patrick’s lips.
“Shh.” The sound was soft, almost gentle, but the warning in his eyes was deadly.
Patrick trembled, biting down on his own sobs. Still, the tears slid down his cheeks in silence.
Xavier tilted his head, studying Linda’s corpse. Then, with mock politeness, he gestured toward her. “You were saying?”
My stomach turned. The man was insane. Not just insane—he was wild in a way I couldn’t begin to describe.
Xavier must be the craziest person I’ve ever met.
He turned back to us, his tone dropping low and calm.
“Apologies for the… noise pollution. I don’t like to pollute the environment with unnecessary sound.”
A disbeliefing gasp threatened to bubble up inside me.
My mind screamed, he wasn’t just crazy, he was joker-crazy.
Patrick’s body shook, his grief was written all over his face. Another tear fell. Xavier’s gaze flicked to it instantly.
“One more droplet,” Xavier murmured, his smile vanishing, “and I’ll have your eyes removed.”
Patrick gasped and quickly wiped his face dry, his hands trembling as though they no longer belonged to him.
“Good boy.” Xavier’s grin returned, slow and satisfied.
He leaned back against his chair, folding his hands in his lap like a man who had all the time in the world. “Now, tell me. Who is Anna to you?”
Patrick swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “She’s… she’s my foster daughter.”
For a long moment Xavier just stared at him. Then, unexpectedly, he exhaled in relief, his smile widening.
“Ah. A foster daughter. That’s good.” He nodded, almost pleased. “I’ll let her live. Killing her won’t hurt you.”
His words sliced into me like glass.
Kill me? Right after setting me free from prison? My mind reeled. What kind of twisted game is this man playing?
Xavier turned his focus on me then, his voice softened, mock sympathy lacing his words.
“Now then, I think it’s only right that you say a word of prayer over our dearly departed Linda. Send her off properly. Make sure she reaches heaven.”
My eyes widened in shock. “What?”
He leaned forward again, smiling like a predator savoring the fear in his prey. “Pray for her. Right here. Right now.”
I stared at him, my heart slamming against my ribs. Pray? Over Linda’s body? With her blood still warm on the floor?
Was this some kind of sick joke?
My lips parted, but no words came out.
His gaze sharpened. “Do it, Anna.”
I looked down at Linda’s lifeless body.
My stomach churned violently. The urge to vomit rose, but I bit it down.
If I don’t do this… he’ll kill me too.
I swallowed hard, my hands shaking as I pressed them together.
My voice came out hoarse, barely audible. “Dear Lord… receive Linda into your… into your kingdom.”
Xavier leaned back, his eyes half-closed as though enjoying a fine performance. “Louder.”
My throat burned. I forced the words out louder, though my voice cracked. “Lord, forgive Linda for her sins… and grant her… eternal rest.”
Silence followed. The room felt suffocating.
Then Xavier clapped his hands together once, sharply. The sound echoed, making me flinch.
“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” He chuckled softly, as if he hadn’t just executed someone in cold blood.
Patrick’s body shook beside me, silent sobs wracking his chest.
Xavier leaned back in his chair, rolling a cigar between his fingers.
He took a long drag, the smoke curling upward, before casually extending it toward Patrick.
“Come on, bro,” Xavier said, his tone light, almost playful. “Take two puffs.”
Patrick’s eyes widened, darting between the cigar and Xavier’s sharp grin. His hands shook violently. “I…don’t smoke.”
Xavier tilted his head, his smile vanishing.
Patrick’s trembling fingers reached forward and took the cigar.
He hesitated for only a moment before placing it between his lips as he inhaled the smoke, coughing almost instantly.
“Good,” Xavier said, his grin returning. “Another.”
Patrick obeyed, he choked on the second puff.
Xavier nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Now… tell me. Where is Sam?”
Patrick’s eyes flickered with fear. “He’s dead,” he blurted. “Anna killed him.”
The words hit me like a slap. My chest constricted, and I gasped, staring at Patrick in disbelief.