ALVARA

viii

KAISER ―

THE SMELL OF CIGAR SMOKE FORCES me into consciousness.

Hugo Martinez's fathomless dark eyes and Maximillian Chan's warm smile greet me. I don't know which one's worse: a man who doesn't bother to hide his true nature, or one who's hellbent on putting on a pretty little façade. Old Maxi is Hugo's side bitch, but he's no less deadly.

"Kaiser, Kaiser, Kaiser..." Hugo blows out a smoke ring before setting down his cigar. His voice is light and chiding, as if he's scolding a child. "I'm disappointed in you."

I remain quiet, keeping my eyes downcast. I'm tied to a chair the old-fashioned way. With rope. I don't bother struggling.

"Prison? Really? As if steel bars could keep me from finding you." He laughs, but there is no humor in it. Hugo walks closer, bending down to my eye level.

"And murdering a serial killer at that. Heroic and honorable to the last. Does Alvara know that you have denied her the pleasure of strangling the man who killed her parents?"

I stiffen, but don't say anything.

"The irony!" Hugo chuckles lightly, straightening again. He picks up his cigar before taking another drag.

Maximillian opens his mouth, but Hugo places a placating hand on his arm without looking at him. "Not yet, darling."

I swallow the acrid taste in my mouth at the term of endearment. Them screwing around had only been a rumor, but I guess it was true. What must their wives think? Elison and Remington?

"I have a mission for you," Hugo says, flicking a piece of non-existent lint off his impeccably-tailored suit. "And it won't involve killing anyone, which is an upgrade in your books, isn't it? If you had told me you were getting traumatized from all the blood, I would've held off on it for a bit." He attempts a kind smile, but it only deforms his face. He's had much less practice than Maximillian. "I'm a lenient man if I want to be, Kaiser."

I spit in his face.

Remington's father straightens, his smile frozen on his face. I watch the wad of saliva slide down his cheek. Maximillian is no longer smiling and stiff with fear as he awaits Hugo's next move.

I look Mr. Martinez dead in the eye, daring him.

"Just as I thought you were being smart," Hugo muses. "Usually I'd have someone's head if they did that. However, you are my valuable killer, my son who I raised from birth."

He turns to Maximillian, whose face lights up with rapture at his attention. "Take off his shirt."

I close my eyes, knowing what's to come.

Maximillian clumsily unties the rope binding my arms and legs with one hand. His other rests on the gun strapped on the inside of his suit. He accidentally catches my eye; I give him a sardonic smile.

He flushes.

"Ten lashes," Hugo orders. His eyes linger on the phoenix on the side of my neck, tattooed in red ink. I got it two weeks ago, when I had first decided I was going to defy him.

Max lifts me to my feet and sets me on Hugo's desk, still strewn with papers. He examines the scarred tissue on my back clinically. "One more lashing session and we'll be whipping your bare bone."

He grabs my hair and pulls my head so I'm forced to look at him while he talks. "Remember, Kaiser, this is for your own good. Everything I do is for your own good."