Page 60 of Her Mercenary

And perhaps they were right ... I wouldn’t know. Because no one had ever tried. Until now.

This beautiful, strong, smart, damn stubborn woman wanted to help me. It felt ... confusing. Comforting. Humbling.

Exhilarating, exciting.

Something sparked to life in me that day, a small flame somewhere in the depths of my polluted black soul.

A flame for her, for Samantha Greene, a reminder of the good in the world, of the purest soul.

A tiny light in the darkness.

28

SAM

I gently placed his hand in his lap, settled back onto the ground, and propped my elbows on my knees.

“What happened to you then?” I asked. “After they killed your mother in front of you?”

“I killed my first man.”

“When you were twelve years old?”

“Yes. With a kitchen knife.”

A withered brown leaf fluttered down from a nearby tree. We watched it a moment, lazily swaying on the wind.

“Do you regret it?” I asked.

“No.”

“But it didn’t satisfy you, did it? Killing the man didn’t take it all away, did it?”

His eyes met mine, understanding flickering between us. He knew I’d spent hours planning how I would one day kill the men holding me captive.

Roman picked up a handful of soil, then slowly let it sift between his fingertips. “Two men killed my mother that night. I killed one, but the other got away.”

“Who did you kill?”

“Oisin Cussane.”

My eyes rounded.

“The one who got away was his son, Conor Cussane, who became the head of one of the largest human-trafficking organizations in the world, the man responsible for your abduction. The man I am—was—supposed to meet, for the first time ever, today at the lodge.”

My eyes rounded as my brain struggled to catch up with this turn of events. “You mean to tell me that the son of the man who killed your mother is the same man who kidnapped me? The man I was supposed to be enslaved to and make babies with?”

“Yes.”

Tick—the final piece of the puzzle clicked together.

“So, that’s why you’ve made this your life mission. You’re seeking revenge for your mother.”

He said nothing. He didn’t need to.

Roman had agreed to take my mission, to save me, only because it provided another opportunity to get close to the leader of the CUN.

I was nothing more than a means to an end.