Chapter 17
Ryan struggled against his bonds, his fair skin slick with panicked sweat. He looked up at his wife, finally realizing the catastrophic magnitude of his arrogance. He had thought he was a king, but he had merely been keeping the throne warm for a monster.
"What... what are you going to do to us?" Ryan choked out, tears of genuine terror spilling down his bruised face.
"Death is too quick," Emily said, her cold, sharp eyes narrowing. "You wanted to rule an empire, Ryan. You wanted to feel powerful by tormenting the weak. I am going to strip you of everything that makes you feel human."
She turned to Marcus, who stood silently by the door.
"Strip them of their designer clothes," Emily ordered, her voice a low, terrifying hum. "Dress them in rags. Drive them to the northern borders, into the deepest, most isolated expanse of the wilderness. Leave them with absolutely no money, no identification, and no shelter."
"Emily, please! We'll die out there!" Ryan begged, his aristocratic facade completely destroyed.
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"If you survive the winter," Emily replied, turning her back on the weeping traitors, "you will do so as beggars. If you ever attempt to contact the syndicate, or if you ever step foot in a civilized city, my men have orders to shoot you on sight."
The heavy steel doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off their desperate, agonizing screams. Emily walked up the stairs, leaving the darkness of the basement behind her. She had cleansed her home. The poison was permanently eradicated, and her vengeance was flawlessly executed.
