CHAPTER 68: CRAFTING DECEIT

"Are you going to kill me, or not?"

Rylan said in a composed tone. Too quiet. As if he had already reconciled himself to whatever was

ahead.

I hadn't.

Joe moved next to me and tightened his hold on his revolver. "This is insane."

Yes, it was.

The fact that we were standing in the center of this silent room with two instructions and two pistols

ready, however, remained the same. And one unfeasible decision.

I gave Rylan a peek. He had no weapons. He remained still. All he did was wait.

"Say something," I spoke sharply.

"What do you want me to say?" His head cocked slightly. That I'm not going to do it? something I'm

not going to shoot?"

I took a swallow.

Because I wanted him to say just that.

"Victor played us," Jeo interrupted. Choosing sides is no longer relevant in this situation. Whoever

lives the longest is at issue here.

"And who can lie the best," Rylan said.

We all knew that part.

Because lying was the only way to get out of this.

A Risky Bet

"Victor wants a body."

Rylan gave a nod. "And he’ll get one."

Joe scowled. "What does that mean?"

Rylan looked at each of us. "It means we give him what he wants."

His comments weighed heavily.

I said, "You want to fake a kill?"

"It’s the only way."

Jeo's breath came out sharply. "You’re both crazy."

Perhaps we were.

What other option did we have, though?

Creating the Scene

"This has to be believable," I said.

Rylan gave a nod. "Victor’s people will check."

"Not just check," mumbled Jeo. "They will dig. They will analyze every detail. We will all

perish if this isn't flawless.

I looked across at Rylan. "How far are you willing to go?"

His eyes remained fixed. "As far as I need to."

That meant something to me.

Furthermore, I wasn't certain I could manage it.

The Moving Plan

It must have been bloody. Sloppy. Convincing.

Joe was responsible for the scene's setup, which included gunshot casings, a simulated fight, and just

the correct amount of damage.

It was my responsibility to ensure Rylan vanished.

"How good are you at holding your breath?" I inquired.

"Good enough."

I held the knife tightly.

This was going to be painful.

For us both.

The Cost of Living

The floor was covered with blood.

Not excessively. Enough.

Joe and I stood over Rylan's still body, his pulse scarcely audible and his respiration weak.

Whispering, "This better work," Jeo said.

"It will," I said.

It was necessary.

Because we were all dead if Victor had any suspicions.

The Last Exam

Within an hour, Victor's guys showed up.

They searched the area, looking at every angle, blood stain, and gunshot wound.

I remained still, my face inscrutable.

"You did it?" One of them inquired.

I gave one nod.

He grinned. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

I didn't either.

However, lying was a skill.

And my masterpiece had just been painted.

One of the guys stopped at the door while the others departed.

"Victor wants to see you."

I became cold.

"Now?"

He gave a nod. "He has… questions."

My stomach turned over.

Because it indicated that Victor had reservations if he had queries.

And I was already dead, in case he had any concerns.