Chapter 76

SEVENTY-SIX

AMETHYST

The past few days have been a whirlwind of data gathering. Tyler and his team unearthed the names of everyone who ever rented a movie from X-Cite Media or became a member, while Jynxson and Camila extracted a list of wealthy families who adopted children from Dad’s old agency, as well as the version Charlotte ran with Becky.

It turned out that Becky knew what was happening to the children, yet she allowed it to continue because each recruit earned her a thousand-dollar bonus. Camila shot her between the eyes and handed Tyler her bank details for him to plunder.

While Xero follows leads on Delta, I help interrogate the instructors Jynxson captured about their training methods. Two of the men who molested me are in the cells and have already given us names of the other men who turned little girls into Lolita assassins.

I also spend time with Charlotte, going through every manipulative tactic she and Dad used to break up our family. When I’m not torturing my personal demons, I’m training with Camila and any other female operative about my size.

My priority right now is avoiding Isabel. The other night, her question caught me off guard, and I nearly choked. Xero rushed in and saved me from further interrogation and changed the subject by volunteering for another round of tests. It only distracted his sister for a short time before her eyes were back on me with silent accusation.

I barely tasted my soup and sandwich after that, and the apple pie slid down my throat like cement. That single question has left me riddled with guilt.

Every time I bring up the morning I tried to set Xero on fire, he cups my cheek and tells me it wasn’t my fault. Then he blames himself for the underhanded way he plagued my life, pretending to be a vengeful ghost.

One afternoon, days after Isabel confronted me about attacking Xero, I sift through Dolly’s social media page. She’s added three additional videos since the one where she pretended to be me and confessed to killing Mom.

They’re all similar in format: her, dressed in a black corset, sitting in front of a green screen of my previous videos. She sips champagne, taunting the internet with names of other men I supposedly murdered.

My former fans leave hateful comments, asking why I haven’t been arrested. Others try to siphon traffic by replying to those comments with think-pieces speculating that I was Xero’s accomplice in the murder of his stepfamily all along.

It’s infuriating how everyone’s getting clout from something I built up with Xero.

“What are you doing?” asks a deep voice.

My heart leaps to the back of my throat. I whirl around, meeting a pair of smiling blue eyes. “Shit, Xero, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Chuckling, he massages my shoulders and peers at the screen. “Why are you watching that?”

“Looking for clues,” I mutter.

He shuts the laptop. “My father is an expert in staying hidden. And in psychological warfare. Those videos exist to manipulate your state of mind.”

My shoulders sag. I know he’s right, but the anger and frustration still wriggle around inside me like a nest of vipers. Which proves Xero’s point.

“I wish I could reach through the screen and rip out her throat,” I mutter.

He slides his fingers through my curls, his touch electrifying my scalp with tingles. “How’s the training going?”

“I’ve sparred every five-foot-five woman on the campus,” I say. “If they’re not too busy helping you track down Delta, or on assassination missions, then they’re helping out with the kids.”

“Have you tried the boys?” he asks with a smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

I rear back, my jaw dropping. “I can’t fight children.”

“They’re eager to train, faster, and have more explosive power than the average female operative.”

Sighing, I consider his words. “It might be helpful to get a variety of opponents.”

“And you can always spar with me again.” He leans forward, his lips brushing mine.

Heat warms my cheeks, and the pulse between my legs quickens. “Your sparring always ends up the same way.”

He grins against my lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Is that a complaint?”

“Maybe we can save your kind of training for the evening.”

He laughs, the sound so rich and warm that my heart flutters. “Valid point, but we should get one sparring session where I’m coming at you full strength. Just in case you end up fighting my father or one of his men.”

I shudder, all traces of amusement vanishing, replaced by mounting dread. “You’re right. We’ll have to face them eventually.”

“Any new memories today?” He massages my temples.

“Just some incident where one of the instructors molested me in Three Fates,” I mutter.

His fingers still. “Which one?”

“I killed him after squeezing out the names of the other men who trained the girls.”

Xero studies my features for several heartbeats, as if he’s expecting me to crumble. Or explode. I slide a hand over his and give it a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry about me. Those memories don’t hurt, and they weren’t too much of a shock because of the time Camila knocked me unconscious. Before that, I’d already guessed what might have happened from the diary.”

His gaze softens, and his thumb traces gentle circles over my cheekbone. “I want to gather every man who hurt you and bury them in a pit where they’ll spend the rest of their lives in agony.”

“You already drowned Reverend Tom and the investors in sewage,” I reply with a smile.

“That reminds me.” He draws back and walks to the cottage door, where a white box sits atop a side table. It’s two feet wide and secured with a black ribbon.

“What’s that?” I ask.

He carries the box over to the desk and places it on my lap. “A few gifts for my good girl.”

The butterflies in my stomach take flight in a burst of excitement, their soft wings tickling my insides with delight.

“You’ve already given me so much,” I say, my voice breathy with awe.

Safety, healing, acceptance, protection, a purpose, a home. Thanks to Xero, the black hole that I had for a childhood is now filled with memories. They’re mostly unpleasant, but I finally have answers about the events that shaped my personality.

“This is something different,” he says, his smile turning mysterious. “Go on. Open it.”

My heart races as I unravel the ribbon and lift the lid. Inside are several more boxes. I open the first, a slender ten-inch rectangle, to find a big, red dildo.

Giggling, I pull it out and place a kiss on its tip. It’s anatomically accurate in all ways but size. Somehow, the silicone always reduces its length and girth.

“Why did you make it?” I ask.

He raises a shoulder. “You’ve been asking for more than fingers recently. I thought that might satisfy you until you’re ready for me.”

A lump forms in my throat, and my chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, threatening to spill over. Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, I can’t help but feel unworthy of a man so considerate, so attuned to my needs.

“Xero…”

“Open the others,” he says, his voice gruff.

The next box contains a leather overbust corset he bought from my Wonderland wishlist. It’s black and fitted with laces at the back and steel hooks that fasten around the front.

“It’s gorgeous,” I whisper. “Thank you. I love it.”

“Open the next one,” he prods, his gaze wavering with a hint of vulnerability.

It contains a replica of the collar he gave me before the Ministry of Mayhem. My breath catches at the memory of how I lost the original in the fire, but I hold back from ruining the moment with another apology. Beneath that box is another containing a skirt that matches the corset, and next to that is a pair of red-soled heels.

“This is so extravagant,” I whisper. “Why?”

“My little ghost deserves nothing but the best.” He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips.

I gaze up into his pale blue eyes, which shimmer with affection. “Thank you seems too weak in the face of such generosity?—”

“What you give me is worth more than money,” he replies.

My brows crease, and my mind dredges up Charlotte’s taunts. She said Xero saw me as a project—a stepping stone to reach Delta. I shove that thought aside. So what if that’s true? We’re exactly what each other needs.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “But I don’t give you anything.”

“Watching you grow stronger isn’t just rewarding for me. It gives me hope that I might regain what I’ve lost, too, once we’ve dealt with Dolly and my father.”

My throat thickens, and I swallow back a surge of emotion. “It might take some time, but I think we will.”

Eyes never leaving mine, Xero brings my knuckles to his lips and lavishes each one with soft kisses. “You are my anchor, little ghost. You give me more than you could ever know.”

The raw honesty in his voice makes my heart thud. I take a deep, steadying breath, fighting the overwhelming wave of warmth. Xero always knows how to reach me with his words. His openness is both exhilarating and terrifying. But I’m not an inspiring warrior princess, just a screw-up trying to pick up the pieces.

He steps closer, releasing my hand to cup my cheek. “You deserve something beautiful. Tonight, let’s take a break. I want to show you somewhere special.”

“Are we going on an undercover mission?” I ask, my breath quickening.

He shakes his head. “No, a date.”