The Masterminds

The Masterminds
Jenny’s POV
Amelia’s voice, ragged and defiant, scourged in my ears, “ And you think Collins will forgive you if he learns? He’ll murder you and your family!’ The nerve of her, bruised and bleeding, to spout such words at me across that grainy video feed, stinged. She was correct. Collins would never forgive me for this. He would tear my world down brick by brick if he knew I’d planned this. But I didn’t care. Not anymore. All I wanted was to break her, take her smug little life, leave it in shards and take back my own—Collins, the company, andthe future I’d fought for.
My phone was so tightly clenched by my knuckles, it's screen still glaring with her bloodied face, eyes blazing with a fire I despised. How dare she challenge me?  I found myself screaming as I threw the phone against the wall. It broke, pieces of plastic and glass raining down onto the cold hard concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse office I’d set up as my make shift command center. I wanted to burst into that room, to squeeze her neck in my hands and make her plead, scrub defiance off her face until there was no more.
A sudden rap on the door interrupted me. I caught my breath, as the door creaked open and Richardwalked in. His eyes were dark with intent, and for a second I was afraid.  Though we’d been in the same team aimed to destroy Amelia, I’d never totally trusted him. My shoulder ached under the bandage where I’d taken a bullet to influence Grandpa Domingo, and I moved in my chair, too weak to stand for long.
“Is she here?” Richard's voice was low. He didn’t waste time with small talk, his eyes scanning the room as if he might find answers in the darkness.
“In the next room,” I said, keeping my voice from trembling. “They’re… handling her.” A smile twisted the corners of my mouth at the idea of Amelia’s distress, but Richard’s face never relaxed. If possible, it stiffened, and that weak feeling offear grew.
He came up behind my wheelchair, holding the handles so tightly I could hear the frame groaning. “Come on,” he said, pushing me toward the door. The wheels skidded on the uneven surface, a sound that seemed to scrape at my nerves as we jolted along the dimly lit hall. While Richard pushed me, I let my thoughts drift to the plan.
“We did it, Richard,” I murmured, my tone low. “The kidnapping was flawless. They snatched her and the bodyguard from a public street. No witnesses, no trace. She’s ours now.” I took a breathe, relishing the idea. “I don’t know what you’ve got in store for her, but I know it’ll kill her. She won’t exist by the time we’re through, and Collins…he’ll choose me. I’m to be his wife, to stand at his side, not little Miss Nobody.”
I didn’t care about what his endgame was — if he wanted Amelia as leverage, a pawn, or something more sinister. All that mattered was that I had won. Amelia’s pain was my release, each bruise across her skin a counter for the anger that had simmered in me since Collins had married her. The thought of her in that room, tied up and vulnerable gave my heart, immersed joy. 
We arrived at the heavy metal door of the holding room and one of the masked men stationed in front of it shifted and looked back and forth nervously between me and Richard. The door creaked open, and what I saw inside took my breath away. Amelia was hunched against the wall with her wrists bound and her arms tied around her legs, her face bruised and cut but still recognizable, blood wiping the skin of her pale lips and chin. Her clothes were shredded, her hair a sweaty, grimy mess, but those eyes—those maddening eyes were still defiant. The men were gathered around her, one with a phone, another with a voice recorder, their work halted as we walked in.
Richard stood still, and his hands clamped the wheelchair hard enough that the impact transferred through the frame and into mine. “What the hell is this?” he bellowed, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls. He moved around me, horror and rage coloring his face as he pointed to Amelia. “Jenny, what did you do? How did she get like this? You got any sense what I needed her for?”
I blinked, startled by his outburst. “What do you mean?” I snarled, my temper rising to meet his own. “She’s here, isn’t she? She’s alive! I ordered them to beat her and force her to speak. I don't like seeing her, Richard. She’s a whore, a thief, a liar who took everything from me! I wanted her to hurt. So what’s the problem?”
Richard’s eyes grew large, and his jaw was so tightly clenched, I was worried he would crack his teeth. “The problem?” he hissed, crouching so that his face was inches away from mine. “I needed her intact, Jenny. Not half dead! You think this is a game? You think I just went through all of this so you could have your petty revenge?”
I shifted, “Petty? She married Collins! She took my life, my future! And I’m making jt clear that she’s a no one, that she should not have him. She’s getting what she wants and deserves!” I screeched at Amelia, who was crumpling her bruised figure flat, sheer rage pushing me forward. “She is lucky I did not kill her myself.”
Before Richard could answer, a feeble, hacking voice spokd from the silence. “Richard?” Amelia’s head came up and her eyes widened in horror as she looked at him. “You… you’re behind this?” Her voice was shaking, “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Richard’s expression changed, the anger was being replaced by something colder. Kneeling down to meet her gaze, he cupped her chin with a softness that felt cruel. Amelia jolted backward, her battered face hurting, but he locked her eyes, a strange, eerie laugh escaping him. “Do not be scared little girl,” he said, his voice smooth, almost tender. “We’ll treat you right. You’ll see.”
Her eyes grew wide and suddenly fear crossed her face as she comprehended the implications. “What… what do you want to do to me?” she demanded, her voice shaking as the defiance was replaced by raw

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