To ruin an Omega

Chapter 242: Drag Path 3

ALDRIC

I climbed the stairs with the tray balanced in one hand and my phone pressed to my ear with the other.

“Speak to me,” I said.

There was a pause on the other end. Just long enough to make my jaw tighten.

“Something happened,” Ronan said.

I reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hallway. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. My footsteps were silent on the carpet runner.

“What?” I kept my voice level and calm. There was no point in getting worked up before I knew what I was dealing with.

“There was a collision.” Ronan’s voice carried that careful neutrality he used when delivering news he thought I wouldn’t like. “Cian’s mate was involved.”

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. Three sharp sounds that echoed in the empty hallway.

“So she is dead?” I turned into the kitchen and set the tray on the counter. The plate clattered slightly against the metal surface. “Well that is disappointing. I expected our little game to go on for a little while.” I leaned against the counter and looked out the window at the beautiful luminous midnight blue sky. “How is he holding up? Is he already running mad with grief?”

“She is not dead.”

My hand stilled on the edge of the tray.

“In fact, she is perfectly fine,” Ronan continued. “She had no injuries at all and that was an accident that killed two sentinels.”

I straightened, pushed off from the counter and walked toward the window. My reflection stared back at me in the glass. Behind it, the trees swayed in the wind.

“Ronan,” I said slowly. Carefully. “Are you telling me an Omega walked away from an accident that killed two trained sentinels without a scratch?”

“Yes.” He paused. “I found it strange that an Omega with no strong healing factor survived that. Not to mention the sentinel with her did as well. That cannot be chance.”

I smiled at my reflection. The expression was cold and sharp.

“I agree with you,” I said. “That is indeed odd.”

The pieces were starting to move in ways I hadn’t anticipated. That happened sometimes. The board shifted. The players made unexpected moves. It was why the game stayed interesting.

“The issue at hand is however that he wants to employ a delicate.”

I blinked, before turning away from the window and walking back to the counter. My free hand drummed once against the marble surface.

“Oh.” I picked up the fork from the tray and examined it again. The tines caught the overhead light. “That is crazy expensive. What for? Did something else happen?”

“No.” Ronan’s voice dropped lower. “The thing is… The accident… It was off. The sentinel with her sort of implied magic was involved. Considering where she was leaving from, it wouldn’t be a stretch to consider that maybe Luna Pauline was involved in this. You know how she is.”

I set the fork down carefully. My fingers lingered on the handle for just a moment before I pulled my hand away.

Pauline….

Of course it was Pauline.

I sighed and the sound came out heavy and tired. Like I was dealing with a particularly troublesome child who kept coloring on the walls no matter how many times they were told not to.

“I truly hate it when my pieces decide they have autonomy.” I walked toward the sink and turned on the water. The sound of it hitting the basin filled the kitchen. “There was something off about her when we talked on the phone. I should have guessed.” I watched the water swirl down the drain. “I wouldn’t even hate it if she had even succeeded.”

“How should I proceed?”

I turned off the water and dried my hands on a towel that hung from the oven handle. The fabric was soft to the touch.

“Go through with it,” I said. “Obey your cousin.”

There was a beat of silence. I could practically hear Ronan processing that. Working through the implications.

“Since she used a witch,” I continued, “I’ll instruct her to cut her loose ends or suffer the consequences.”

“Of course, father.”

The word sent a warm feeling through my chest. Ronan was a good boy. A useful dog. He knew his place and he played his part perfectly.

It even made me chuckle.

“I love it when you call me that.”

The line went dead.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the screen. The call had lasted one minutes and forty-two seconds. Somehow long enough to complicate things.

I scrolled through my contacts. My thumb moved over the names in alphabetical order. There were hundreds of them. People who owed me favors. People who worked for me. People who thought they were using me while I used them right back.

I switched to recently called instead. It was faster that way.

Pauline’s number sat there near the top. Right between “Ronan” and another labeled “Supplier 3.”

I pressed on her name. The phone rang.

It rang once.

Then twice.

Even a third time.

On the fourth ring, she picked up.

“Aldric.” Her voice was tired. “This better be fucking good because I do not have time for your shenanigans right now.”

I walked back toward the window. The sky had gone from deep midnight blue to something brighter.

“Pauline,” I said. “We need to talk.”

“About what now?” The rude streak didn’t waver. She was good at this. I’d give her that.

I watched a night bird land on one of the tree branches outside. It hopped along the wood, tilted its head and then flew away.

“About the collision your orchestrated,” I said.

The silence on the other end stretched out for just a beat too long. Just enough to confirm what I already knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice, still rude had however lost some of that smoothness. Just a fraction. Just enough.

I smiled.

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” I said. The words came out soft but they carried weight. “I thought I should let you know that the Omega and her sentinel walked away without injuries while two others died. A waste of power and risk taking if you ask me because magic leaves traces, Pauline. Especially magic done hastily.”

I heard her breath catch. Just for a second.

“Even if that were true,” she said slowly, “why would that concern you?”

I turned away from the window and walked back through the kitchen. My footsteps echoed on the tile.

“It concerns me,” I said, “because you are my piece. You move when I say move. You act when I say act.” I reached the doorway and stopped. “You don’t get to make plays on your own.”

“Maybe I was helping you.” Her voice had an edge to it now. Defense mixed with defiance. “You want Cian destabilized. You want him weak. But you have been too pussy to do any of that and then you somehow make it out problem. Getting rid of his mate would have accomplished that, would it not?”

“Would it though?” I leaned against the doorframe. “Don’t pretend you did this because you were tired of being cornered. You are smarter than that when your emotions aren’t at the forefront. That girl pissed you off and that was it.”

There was a at the end of the line.

“You didn’t think it through,” I said. “You saw an opportunity and you took it without considering the consequences. Without considering how it fits into the larger plan.”

“I’m sorry.” The words came out tight as it was forced. She wasn’t sorry. She was angry that she’d been caught. “It won’t happen again.”

“No,” I said. “It won’t.”

I pushed off from the doorframe and walked down the hallway. The carpet muffled my footsteps again. The buzzing fluorescent lights followed me like mechanical insects.

“What does Cian know?”

“Nothing yet. I have the full picture. But he doesn’t. Not yet at least. But he intends to get a delicate. He will find out if the delicate is good. You used a witch,” I said. “That witch is now a loose end. Loose ends get people caught, Pauline. Loose ends unravel carefully woven plans.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need to cut your loose ends.” I reached another window. “Or I will cut them for you. And when I cut loose ends, I’m not particularly careful about where the scissors land.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“I’m educating you.” I watched my reflection in the glass. The red stone on my ring glowed faintly in the dim light. “There is a difference.”

She didn’t respond. I could hear her breathing on the other end of the line.

“Handle it,” I said. “And Pauline?”

“What?”

“Don’t ever move without my permission again.” I let the words hang in the air between us. “I don’t care how good your intentions are. I don’t care how perfect the opportunity seems. You wait for my word. Always. Are we clear?”

There was another pause. It was longer this time.

“Crystal,” she said.

“Good.”

“But can I say something now?” She added.

“Sure. Speak.”

“There will be no problem and your nephew will find nothing no matter what power he uses. It’s fine.”

“What makes you so sure?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, that is my business. Good fucking night!”

She then ended the call.

Fucking bitch!

But what made her so sure nothing would be found out? Why was she so sure?