Loving My Husband's Murderer

Delilah Sinclair Pain and revenge often originate from the same seed. Revenge, however, is a consequence of the pain that originates from betrayal, and begs for blood and destruction. The fire of revenge never really diminishes; if anything, it flares dangerously with every passing moment. And the same fire of revenge was burning inside me. It focused on burning only one thing on its very own. Vincent Black. The very man who killed my husband on our anniversary night and left him burning in our abandoned warehouse. The man who mercilessly destroyed our lives. The man who made me a widow at the age of twenty-two. "I promise you, Adrian, your murderer won't stay alive for too long. I will destroy him completely before taking his life." I whispered, my eyes moist as I touched his grave. The stone felt cold under my touch, but somehow it still burned my fingertips. Or maybe it was the fire within me. I stared at my husband's grave for a minute longer. It was absurd of me to wait for some kind of response from the grave. From my dead husband. But the stone was cold. My husband was dead and there was no way I could ever hear him back. °°° Three years. It had been three years since I had been planning to get near Vincent Black. It wasn't easy to even breathe in the same space as him. To begin with, Vincent wasn't a normal businessman. He was the underworld king. He ran many legal and illegal businesses. For the outer world, he was a perfect businessman. He ran charities, opened orphanages and old-age homes, but deep inside, he ran a dangerous racket. Everybody knew who Vincent Black was and what kind of businesses he ran, but no one had enough proof to prove his indulgence in one of the most dangerous worlds— the underworld. And even if anyone managed to get the proof, they didn't make it out alive to prove their case. I was not the first one to come destroy him, but I intended to be the last one. His last ruin. "It's the time, Miss Sinclair. Remember, Mr. Black hates tardiness. Knock thrice and walk inside without waiting for a response." The person in charge of my orientation said, handing me a couple of files and a laptop. My heart started thudding inside my chest. The confidence I had been masking all day suddenly dropped. It was not a normal job. My supposed boss wasn't a regular CEO, but a really dangerous mafia leader who killed my husband. With shaky hands, I knocked on the door. When I received no answer, I slightly pushed open the door, and there he was. Sitting behind a large desk, dressed in an expensive black suit. His face was angled down as he kept typing something on his laptop. Suddenly, his presence felt way more suffocating than I had originally imagined. "Good morning, Sir. I am the new head of the loan collection department— Delilah Sinclair—" It was only when I started introducing myself that I noticed a man was kneeling on the floor, his hands tied behind his back. His mouth was sealed with duct tape. My breath hitched. Suddenly, everything felt too real— the man sitting behind the table, the stories that surrounded his ruthless nature. Everything felt painfully real. When I trailed off, only then did the man behind the desk look up, his face no longer hidden behind the laptop. And the first thing I noticed was a scar running down his chin, to his neck, traveling inside his suit. His dark hair was elegantly combed back. But it wasn't the scar that intimidated me. It was the eyes. The steely silver orbs stared at me with coldness enough to freeze my soul in fear. "Right time, Miss Sinclair. I was just in the middle of an important meeting. You see, the gentleman here took five hundred thousand dollars from me and has been denying the repayment to our men. What do you think would be an appropriate punishment for him?" I was taken aback by the question. I was not expecting something like this in our first meeting. Seeing a badly beaten-up man kneeling in front of Victor Black was definitely not on my to-do list. Not that I didn't know how dangerous and ruthless Vincent Black was, I didn't expect something so criminal and illegal to happen so openly in his company. "Ex—excuse me?" I stammered out, licking my lips nervously, and his lips curled up in a sadistic smile. "You're the new head of the loan collection department, aren't you, Miss Sinclair?" He asked me, now getting up from his chair, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck standing, sensing the danger even before it surrounded me. It took everything in me not to step back in fear when he walked closer to me. "And since we have hired you for loan collection, it's only fair that you learn all the means required to collect the money back. So tell me, pray, what should we do with the man?" He asked me again, stopping only a few steps away from me. I looked away from him to the man kneeling on the ground, battered and bleeding. He looked vulnerable to my sight, and suddenly the image of my own husband flashed in front of my eyes. Vincent must have killed him the same way. Mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I can't give myself away. The quest for revenge was long and filled with endless thorns. I can't let my cover be blown away because of a small thorn, not when I had been fighting for three years to reach there. Near Vincent Black. "His death won't promise you any repayment, Mr. Black. If anything, the debt would die with him, too," I answered, looking back at my boss, who looked surprised that I even managed to speak. "So what do you suggest, Miss Sinclair?" "If you ask me, Sir, I'd say leave him alive. He can only repay you if he is alive. Instead of beating him to death, focus on what he loves the most. A man protects his most valuable asset the most. And to protect his loved ones, repayment would look the easiest option for him." I spoke, and the color of the man's face drained. I felt bad; remorseful even. But I had no other choice. To take down a monster, if I had to become one, I wouldn't hesitate to. Victor might not know this, but I came from a very wealthy family as well. How the business worked, how money was collected back, and how to find the company's benefit, even in the charity, were all known to me. I was not just a businessman's daughter but also a businessman's wife. "Impressive, Miss Sinclair." He replied, taking a step back as he leaned against his table, pressed a bell under it, and within seconds, two tall, buff men walked inside his cabin. "Take him back to the chambers." Victor ordered his men, and within seconds, we were alone in his cabin. Closing looking at him, he was a lot taller than me. His scars were visibly scarier when looked closely at. His silver eyes were cold, steely and impassive. And the way he looked at me, it felt like he could see me. See through me. And the thought itself was terrorizing. "Welcome to Blackcrest International, Miss Sinclair. I usually don't give offs to my employees, but I guess you would require one to study about my company and my ways. I will be handing over some cases to you, and you shall study them better to learn how collection is done at my company," He said, pushing a thick file towards me. The moment I saw the name on the file, my blood ran cold. Everything inside me froze. My eyes stared at the very name that once held the weight of the world for me. My fingers trembled as I held the leather file in my hand. And when I looked back at him, he was already staring at me. "This one is one of my most favorite cases, Miss Sinclair. You must read the details of the case and come prepared for tomorrow. You will take charge of your department from tomorrow." The blood in my veins boiled. It was seething with vengeance. Suddenly, the urge to kill him right then and there overpowered my senses, but I held back. 'His most favorite case' as he said, would become the nightmare of his life, and I would make sure of it. "You look shaken up, Miss Sinclair. Is everything alright?" His mocking words made me swallow the lump that formed inside my throat. I forced out a professional smile and nodded my head. "Everything's peachy, Mr. Black. I will definitely go over the case and take the charge over the loan collection department from tomorrow." And with that I left his office with the heavy file in my hand. The name on the file burned my fingers. Adrian Hart. My husband.