CHAPTER 77

CHAPTER 77
Chapter 77:
Diane’s POV
"She dismantled the pen."
Gina’s voice was quiet over the encrypted line, but I heard the frustration beneath the surface.
Of course, Caroline dismantled it. Of course, Kane helped.
I leaned back in my chair, legs crossed, one manicured finger tapping against the rim of my wine glass. The room around me was dim, the lights low, a single monitor casting a pale glow across the black marble table.
“Did they confront you?” I asked, eyes still on the screen showing a paused image of Kane’s apartment.
“No,” Gina replied. “Not directly. But Caroline’s already withdrawn. Kane’s being… Kane.”
“That’s fine,” I murmured. “It means they know you’re a threat again. That’s leverage.”
“But not control,” she bit back.
I smiled faintly. “Control is earned in layers.”
There was a pause. Then:
“You’re not angry?”
I swirled the wine. “No. They were supposed to find the bug. It was never meant to last. Only to confirm Gina was accepted back in.”
She fell silent on the line.
“They let you into their home,” I continued. “They let you get close. That’s all I needed.”
Another beat of silence.
“I don’t think she trusts me.”
“She doesn’t,” I said bluntly. “But she wants to. And that’s better.”
My gaze shifted to the far corner of the room where the shadows trembled slightly. I knew who stood there, even without turning.
“You can come out, Jayson.”
Raymond stepped into the light with that same cool, amused expression he always wore when people underestimated him.
Except no one in this room did.
“You were testing her,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”
“Because Gina’s either going to help us destroy Kane…” I took a sip of wine. “…or she’s going to show us how to.”
Raymond smirked. “You think she’ll break?”
“She already is,” I said, locking eyes with him. “Friendship is the softest spot. You just have to know where to press.”
He folded his arms, watching me closely. “Caroline’s smarter than you’re giving her credit for.”
“And you’re too attached to her to admit it scares you,” I replied coolly.
The smirk faltered, just slightly.
I stood and walked to the center table, where a blueprint of Kane’s safehouse was spread like a waiting grave. My finger tapped the panic room.
“They’re preparing for war. That’s what Kane does when he’s scared. He controls.”
“And Caroline?”
“She adapts.” My lips curved slightly. “That’s what makes her dangerous.”
Raymond stepped closer, his voice lower now. “You said Phase Two has started.”
“It has,” I said, turning toward the screens again. “Now we isolate them. Peel them away from each other. Use the cracks.”
Raymond tilted his head. “And Kelly?”
I met his gaze.
“That one,” I said, my voice cool and sharp, “is the wild card.”
Raymond chuckled under his breath. “So what’s next?”
I stared at the screen showing Caroline in her kitchen, holding a gun with trembling hands.
“She’s arming herself.”
Raymond leaned in beside me, watching her. “She’s afraid.”
“No,” I said softly. “She’s learning.”
The light from the screen reflected in my glass. In my eyes.
“She’s finally becoming like us,” I whispered again, watching Caroline’s hands tighten around the gun like it was an extension of her growing will to survive.
But something shifted behind me.
I felt it before I saw it, an absence of amusement in the air, a new sharpness laced with stillness.
Raymond was no longer looking at the screen.
He was looking at me.
“I have to say…” His voice had changed—just a fraction. Softer. Lower. Less mocking, more final. “You’re good, Diane. Brilliant, even.”
I turned to him slowly.
“But I think you already know who I am,” he said.
My brow arched, lips curling faintly. “You mean you not being Jayson?”
A pause.
He blinked once, then grinned. “No fun in this if you already knew.”
“I’ve always known,” I said quietly. “Jayson was fire. Unpredictable, chaotic. But you?” My gaze trailed down his stance, the way he held his body like a loaded weapon. “You’re colder. Calculated. Cruel in a different way.”
Raymond’s smile widened.
“Then why keep pretending?”
“Because I needed to see how far you’d go.”
“And now?”
“Now,” I said, turning to pour another glass of wine, “I’ve seen enough.”
I didn’t hear him move.
But I felt the shift in air behind me.
The sharp click of a blade extending.
“You thought I’d let you walk away,” he said softly.
My hand froze mid-pour.
Glass half-full. Or half-empty, depending on who was dying first.
I turned slowly.
The knife was small. Black-handled. Elegant.
I laughed once. “You’re not really going to try, are you?”
“Oh, Diane,” he whispered, stepping closer, “I’m not trying.”
I stepped back fast but he was faster.
The first swipe grazed my cheek. Just a warning. Hot blood bloomed down my jaw.
“You ungrateful son of a…” I hissed, dodging again, grabbing the edge of the chair to swing it between us.
He smashed it aside with a single blow, stepping in like a phantom.
“Don’t take it personally,” Raymond said. “You were useful. But we’ve entered a new phase, and you talk too much.”
I ducked under his next strike, rolled across the floor, grabbed the emergency stiletto from beneath the coffee table and slashed upward.
It caught his arm. He hissed but didn’t stop.
I bolted.
Out of the suite. Down the hallway. Barefoot now—heels discarded.
The lights flickered. Of course they did.
He was behind me, walking slowly.
Like he had all the time in the world.
“You’re not faster than me, Diane,” he called out. Calm. Teasing.
I sprinted down the corridor and dove into the secondary server room, slamming the door shut and bolting it. My chest heaved. My side burned.
This couldn’t be happening.
No, this wasn’t how I’m going down.
I pressed my back to the server rack, gripping a chair with shaking fingers.
Then—his voice. Just outside the door.
“You always thought you were queen of the game,” he said. “But queens fall too.”
I scanned the room. Nowhere to run. No windows. No vent wide enough.
He started banging on the door, slow and methodical. Like a clock ticking down.
“Why now?” I shouted. “Why kill me now?”
“Because,” he murmured through the door, “you knew who I was. And you always planned to use it.”
The door cracked.
My scream caught in my throat.
“I liked you, Diane,” he said. “But this is war. And in war, pawns who know too much get removed.”
The bolt snapped.
He stepped in.
Black-gloved. Red smile.
I slashed once, desperate.
He caught my wrist. Squeezed.
I gasped.
“Goodbye, Diane,” he whispered.
And the blade plunged deep.