Olivia's grip on the girl's shoulder tightened. It shook in her hand as Pedro's daughter sobbed in fear and confusion.
Finally.
Finally, she was face to face again with Pedro. They stood across from each other, his pistol aimed squarely at her head, hers pressed firmly into Sofia's temple. The father's face was pale, his eyes wide.
"Drop the gun," Olivia growled. Sofia squirmed before her. "Drop it before my finger slips."
Pedro breathed hard.
"Leave my daughter out of this," he said, feigning confidence. Whether it was to his daughter's benefit or his own, Olivia couldn't tell.
"Just do as you're told," she replied.
The girl whimpered. Pedro glanced down at her. A slight smile formed on his face.
"Hey, darling," he spoke softly, trying to sound reassuring. "Everything'll be alright. Papá will keep you safe." His eyes darted back up to meet Olivia's hard gaze. She could make out the feint glimmer of desperation in his eyes.
"Please, let her go," he pleaded. It sounded sincere.
Damn you, Olivia thought. Of course the bastard chose this moment to display some level of humanity, of decency. The man she had wanted dead for years, the man who had turned her life into a living hell of stress and guilt. He was a thief. A torturer. A murderer. And he had turned her and the other Colors into the same. Olivia wouldn't have been surprised if he turned out to be the devil himself. But now, with his daughter's life on the line, he showed compassion. Concern for another human being, not just for himself. For a moment, Olivia's determination wavered.
She glanced down at the little girl before her, tears running down the child's face. Olivia had come here to kill Pedro. But in doing so, she would orphan an innocent girl, leaving her to her own devices as the sole inheritor to a vast fortune on a planet inhabited by greedy cutthroats and murderers. If her father died, she would be helpless. Olivia looked back up at the man across from her.
Killing him would end one nightmare, only to begin another.
The look of desperation spread across his face.
Too late.
"Drop the gun," Olivia repeated grimly.
Pedro's shoulders slumped in resignation. The pistol fell to the carpeted floor with a quiet thud. Olivia lowered her own handgun and bent over, bringing her face close to the girl's.
"Go on, Sofia. Go to your papá."
She let go of the child's shoulder. Sobbing, Sofia ran to her father, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his suit. Pedro embraced her tightly, keeping his eyes locked with Olivia's.
"Sshh, it's okay," he whispered, stroking his daughter's hair. A tear of relief ran down his face.
"I'm scared," Sofia sobbed.
Her father sighed.
"I know," he answered. "But you'll be okay. Now," he knelt down, coming face to face with his child, "I want you to go to my office. Just down the hall, si? Wait in my office while I take care of this." He stroked her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "Can you do that for me, Sofia?"
The girl suppressed another sob and nodded bravely.
"Good," Pedro smiled at her. Then softly, "Now go."
Sofia let go of her father and slowly walked to the door. On the threshold, she stopped and turned around to face him. Pedro still knelt on the carpet, a warm smile on his face.
"Go on."
The girl sniffed and walked down the hallway, out of sight. A moment later, Olivia could hear the office door open and close. Pedro sighed and straightened up, facing her. His expression was one of sadness, of resignation.
"She's my little darling," he whispered. Olivia only nodded, raising her pistol at him. "I know how much you want this," Pedro continued, ignoring the barrel now trained on his face. "Thank you for not making her see it."
"Sure," Olivia muttered. A weak smile formed on the man's face. Was it hope? Olivia wondered.
"She's strong," Pedro said with renewed pride. "She'll be fine without-"
The deafening blast of the gunshot silenced him. Pedro's body fell backwards, collapsing to the floor. Blood oozed from the bullet wound in his forehead, soaking into the carpet. His smile faded.
