Chapter 231
Serena
"I mean it." His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to ground me. "Felix wanted to play this game? Throw Thomas at me, thinking I'd be too distracted to see the bigger picture?" A dangerous smile curved his lips. "He just handed me both their heads on a silver platter. If they want a direct confrontation, I won't disappoint them. I'll move before they even think to retaliate—one final strike, and it's over."
I studied his face, searching for hesitation, for doubt. Found none. "You're really going to—"
"I am." The certainty in his voice was absolute, chilling. "They've had years to perfect their games—destroying lives, burying bodies, rewriting history. My mother. Vanessa. God knows how many others." His eyes met mine, and for the first time tonight, I saw something almost feral beneath the control. "Tonight, the game ends. On my terms."
Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled out his phone and dialed. The call connected almost immediately, and he tapped the speaker button.
"Wesley," Lance said without preamble. "Stop your investigation. Vanessa's murder—it was Felix. I'm certain. We need to talk."
There was a pause, then Wesley's voice came through, rich with dark amusement. "Well, I was just about to call you with the evidence we found. But it sounds like you've already—" A soft laugh. "Let me guess. Felix decided to show his hand? Not a confession exactly, but close enough that he might as well have taken out an ad in the Times?"
Lance's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You're getting smarter, Wesley."
"Well, Uncle," Wesley drawled, "spending years as Serena's boyfriend and your nephew? I was bound to pick up a few things from both of you."
I bit back a laugh despite everything. Lance, however, looked less amused. "Really? We're bringing up the ex-boyfriend thing again?"
Wesley's laugh was immediate and unrepentant. "Just keeping you on your toes, Uncle. Making sure you remember how lucky you are. Gotta maintain that possessive edge so Serena always feels how much you love her."
Lance rolled his eyes, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. "I think I manage fine on my own, thanks."
"Oh, I'm certain you do." Wesley's voice carried that familiar edge of dark humor. "But let's not waste time pretending this call is about intel sharing or family updates. You want Felix dealt with. The permanent kind of dealt with."
My chest tightened. I glanced at Lance, but his expression gave nothing away—just that cold, calculating mask he wore when he'd already made his decision.
"Can you?" Lance asked, his voice stripped of everything but purpose.
The sound of a blade being drawn came through the speaker, followed by the rhythmic scrape of metal against whetstone. "If he's a threat to you and Serena?" Wesley's tone shifted, taking on an edge I'd never heard before. "I'll find him tonight. He won't be a problem by morning."
"Lance," I whispered, leaning closer, my hand finding his arm. "Felix is at the estate. You need to tell Wesley not to do anything rash—"
But Lance's focus never wavered from the phone. "He's not the only target," he said quietly. "Your list just got longer."
A pause. Then Wesley's voice, laced with dry amusement: "Let me guess. Felix's supposedly dying father? The one who's been playing terminal patient while pulling strings across two continents? Thomas?"
Something flickered in Lance's eyes—approval, maybe even surprise. "Exactly. Actually, Thomas has been—"
"Nope. Stop right there." Wesley's interruption was casual, almost cheerful. "Don't need the backstory. Don't need the justification. You say they need to go? They're gone. Simple as that. Just give me names."
Lance went still for a moment, his mouth still half-open from the explanation he'd been about to give. Then that dangerous smile returned, sharper than before.
"Both of them," he said. "By morning. Quietly. No trace."
"Now we're talking." Wesley sounded genuinely pleased. "And Lance? Thanks."
Lance frowned slightly. "For what?"
"For finally asking me for help." There was something almost warm beneath Wesley's usual dark humor. "You know, before Felix got his claws into me—back when I was still eighteen and stupid—I actually wanted to be useful to you. Wanted to prove I could handle things for the family, for you specifically. But you never needed anything from anyone. So yeah, thanks for finally giving me something to do."
I watched Lance's expression shift, something unguarded flickering across his face before he could hide it.
"That said—" Wesley's tone brightened with genuine enthusiasm. "Taking out two targets inside Arthur's estate? Under all that security? Now that's the kind of challenge that makes life interesting. I accept."
Before Lance could respond, Wesley laughed. "Don't go getting emotional on me. I'll call when it's done."
The line went dead.