Page 6 of The Chosen
This was Victor Kane.
High-profile. Political connections. Charitable foundations masking unspeakable crimes.
A part of me thought it was finally time to reach out to the authorities, especially with everything I now knew about Victor’s trafficking operation. But I’d never had much faith in law enforcement. After learning that Victor may have faked Sarah’s death, I certainly didn’t trust the cops now. Not with this.
Not with Ariana.
“I’ll take care of the body,” I announced firmly, returning my eyes to Ariana.
“Shouldn’t we…call someone?”
“I’m not sure that’s a smart idea. Your husband seemed to have a great deal of influence over people in law enforcement, especially if he was able to fake Sarah’s death. I won’t risk anything happening to you. Plus, don’t forget…”
“What’s that?”
“Victor’s credit card was used in Florida. Any law enforcement officer who starts looking for him could use the same information Blake and I used to track him down. They’ll track him to Florida. We can use that to our advantage for the time being.”
Her expression fell when I mentioned Blake’s name.
“Wh— What happened? In Florida? To Blake?”
I smiled sadly, a knot forming in my throat from the reminder of losing one of the closest friends I had.
“It was a trap. All of it. The credit card. The guy at the gas station who looked like Victor. It wasn’t him. We found him in the house. Already dead. And when we realized it, we rushed to get back here to you, but Blake stepped on a pressure plate.”
Her face paled. “A pressure plate?”
“The place was wired to explode the second he shifted his weight.”
She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, tears welling in her eyes.
I pulled her into my arms, inhaling her floral shampoo, grateful she was still here. That she was still alive.
And that Victor Kane was no longer a threat.
I hated that Blake lost his life because of him, but at least Victor was gone.
“I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’ll take care of Victor. Make it seem like he was never here.” I pulled back, forcing her eyes to mine. “You’ve already been through enough. I won’t let him keep hurting you from his grave. Okay?”
She gave a small nod. “Okay.”
I brushed a soft kiss to her lips, savoring in the warmth of her touch. “Why don’t you go shower, then get some sleep? By the time you wake up, it’ll be like this never happened. Like Victor was never here.”
“Are you sure? I can help.”
“It’s better if you don’t. Just go get cleaned up and rest. Okay?”
She pushed out a long breath. “Okay.”
She stepped out of my hold, her stare lingering on Victor’s body for several protracted moments.
Then she turned and moved toward the staircase, her motions slow, each step seeming harder than the last, as if the weight of everything that had transpired over the past several weeks grew heavier and heavier.
Hopefully, she’d feel better after a shower and some sleep.
But I knew better than most the weight she’d now have to carry for the rest of her life.
And it was all my fault.
