Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“I’ll have the money to you by tomorrow. I swear,” he promises.
“That’s good, Edward. But as punishment, you will now give us a forty percent cut of your profits.”
His jaw opens and closes several times before he says, “But it’s only at twenty percent now, that’s—”
With lightning speed, I jump out of my chair and pull out my new favorite knife, the one I stole from a certain little hitwoman. It all happens so quickly, and it’s not until he’s screaming that he understands what just happened. Dutton has him pinned back by the shoulders as I firmly hold down his arm, the blade smeared with blood from where I detached his finger with it.
My favorite color spreads over the table, and I relish the beautiful red glistening in the light.
“This isn’t a negotiation,” I remind him.
I hand the knife over to my cousin as I pick up my cigar again to take another puff.
I exchange places with Dutton, despite Edward screaming and trying his best to fight against us. I clamp down on his shoulders, cigar hanging out of my mouth.
“My cousin came here on business. But I came here for something personal,” Dutton says, and the demon in him comes out to play. This is a side to him that not many see when the mask slips. He rips open Edward’s shirt, revealing a hairy stomach.
“Please… P-please!” Edward screams hysterically.
Dutton smiles, taking pleasure in toying with him. “It’s public knowledge I’m protective over my family. Especially my little sister. You remember Billie, don’t you? You tried to, what would she call it… slide into her DMs?”
“I-I don’t kn-know what you’re t-talking about,” he babbles on a sob, slowly starting to lose consciousness from the pain and shock.
“Well, she, of course, never saw that message because I deleted it. What isn’t common knowledge is that I have access to all of my baby sister’s messages. I’m quite protective, you see, and I’ve deemed you someone who needs to be taught a lesson about how you treat women.”
His screams bounce throughout the room as my cousin casually and artistically starts carving “Pin prick” into his chest and stomach.
By the time we’re done with him, he’s sobbing under his desk, barely conscious.
“I don’t want to come back here again,” I warn him as we make our way out, satisfied by the thrill but my thirst deeply unquenched for more blood. Discipline is a skill, one I’ve continued polishing. But even I need a release, and right now, the thought of Michelle repulses me; my cock only twitching at the image of amber eyes glaring at me with scorn and repulsion.
I smirk to myself, wondering how she’ll cry when she chokes on my cock.
My hitwoman has turned into the perfect little distraction.
CHAPTER 10
Jewel
My hands run down my short, brown leather skirt as I stand in front of the building, staring up at the sign that reads Lucy’s.
I shouldn’t have come.
Any sane person would’ve packed their shit and left town by now, but I live by the motto better the devil, you know, than the one you don’t. I have no intention of pissing off my client or having my first failed hit.
So here I am, walking into the mafia heir’s den as if I’m a welcomed guest when I know I’m anything but.
A sliver of my midriff is on display between the hem of my tight white shirt and the waist of my skirt. The brown leather boots might be cute, but they also have a small knife hidden inside, just in case… Well, just in case shit happens.
Knowing I only have the bare minimum to protect myself with doesn’t make me feel any more secure.
The security guard glances at me but says nothing as I stand there, looking like I’m building up the courage to go inside. In truth, I’m looking for any obvious escape routes other than the front door.
Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this fucking hit.
Play with the target.
Yeah, it seems he’s playing with me now.
“How long have you been standing here?” I turn to see Dutton approaching from the parking lot and pressing his key fob to lock his car. I make a point to remember which car is his and the license plate number.
He’s dressed more casually than the last time I saw him, but make no mistake, he oozes money. And I’m not fooled by his charming, pretty-boy exterior. If anything, other than Eli, he’s the one I’m most wary of. Turning back toward the club, I take in the impressively long line waiting to gain entry.
“I don’t want to stand in that line,” I reply, which is partially the truth.
“Your name is on the list,” he says, stopping behind me. I glance over my shoulder at him. He’s staring at me as if trying to figure out some complicated math. “Why did you come here?”