Cars line the cobblestone circle drive. He’s having a party. I’m not surprised. A man of his stature must keep up appearances for all intents and purposes. He’s a respected Lord. But he’s done something they don’t agree with.
Usually, I wouldn’t give a fuck what a man has done—Lord or not. An order is an order. But him? This house? Why? I’ve obviously missed something right in front of my face all these years. Maybe I’ve been too blinded with big tits and bleach-blond hair to pay much attention to anything else that lives inside the mansion.
Picking up my foot, I put the bike in gear once again and take off, making my way down the hill via the hidden road. None of his guests would use this way to access the house, so I’m able to remain unseen.
Coming to the bottom of the hill, I continue past the house before bringing my bike to a stop on the side of the road. I push it right into the tree line to hide it in the darkness. I remove my helmet, leather gloves, backpack off my shoulders, and jacket to have better mobility with my arms. I yank the earbuds out of my ears and shove them into my jeans pocket. Then I place my backpack on the seat and unzip it. I grab what I need and screw the suppressor onto the end of the barrel. I shove the gun into the back of my jeans, securing it for the time being. Then I remove the hoodie, pulling it over my head, along with the mask, before I place the backpack on my back, just in case, and make my way across the street toward the house.
My combat boots crush the leaves and branches under the soles once I hit the other side. The house lights up the woods in the middle of the night. As if any partygoer could miss the twenty-million-dollar mansion.
Making my way up to the house, I smile that the idiot doesn’t even have security at the front gate tonight. That’s how fucking cocky he is. Stupid motherfucker. He is not untouchable.
I stay low, crouching down behind the trimmed bushes lining the side of the property. Every now and then, I peek to watch the guests get out of their cars and limos to be escorted inside by men dressed in white tuxedos.
Not a single guy who resembles security is to be seen. He feels safe here. Making my way to the side of the house, I see the wooden lattice that I know she uses to get in and out of the house when she’s snuck out in the past. I start to climb it until I get to the second floor, where I jump the railing to the balcony. Wrapping my leather-covered hand around the knob, I turn it to find it unlocked.
Slipping into the bedroom, I look around and see it’s empty, like I knew it would be. She’s downstairs partying with the others. It’s been going on for hours. I’m sure she’s drunk and bored as shit by now.
The room is spotless. Not a single thing out of place. Her king-size four-post bed sits against the wall to the left. The white duvet covers it along with an obsessive number of pillows. The bench at the end has her favorite throw blanket that she prefers to wrap up in when watching a movie. I gave it to her for her birthday a few years ago.
Slowly walking through the room, I inhale the scent of vanilla. It makes me groan, thinking of grabbing her hair and burying my face in her neck. My fingers digging into her creamy thighs while my cock fucks her cunt.
I’m so fucking hard that it hurts. I dream about her when I’m asleep and awake. She’s consuming me to the point I’m suffocating.
Shaking my head, I adjust my dick and make my way to the door. I don’t have time for that right now. I leave the bedroom door open as I step out of the room and into a lit hallway. Large, expensive artwork hangs on the walls that he paid millions for from well-known artists.
Music filters up from the lower level as I wrap my gloved fingers around the wooden banister to see the people below.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, like they always are. But my eyes catch sight of a bleached blonde. Ellington Jade Asher. She stands over in the corner by a bar. Her back leans against it while she looks over the crowd with an expressionless look on her gorgeous face, and she’s holding a glass of champagne in her hand. I wonder how many she’s had.
My little demon. She’s always been the one. She doesn’t know it, but when the time is right, I’ll let her know.
Her mother walks up to her, and Elli gives her a fake smile.
Soon, Elli. Soon you’ll worship me like the devil worships his hell.
A man walks up the stairs, and I smile when I see who it is. Jackpot.
I push away from the banister and quickly make my way to the end of the hallway to the master suite. I hide behind the open door in the shadows and wait.
The sound of his feet approaching has my heart racing. I remove the gun from my jeans and slowly cock it, trying to make as little noise as possible.
He enters the room, and I watch him make his way past the Alaskan king bed and into the adjoining bathroom, all while he whistles. The light shines under the shut door, and I make my way over to it, softly turning the door handle and poking my head inside. I see him at the sink, opening a bottle of pills. Viagra.
Fuck, I hope someone shoots me when I have to take medication to get hard.
Popping the pill in his mouth, he throws back his glass of scotch, swallowing it. Not sure what the fuck he’s going to do with a hard dick while in the middle of a party, but it doesn’t matter.
When he turns to exit, I step inside the bathroom, raising my gun to aim at his head. He doesn’t even have time to register what’s about to happen when I pull the trigger.
The bullet hits him right between the eyes. Blood runs down his face and onto his shirt, and I watch his blue eyes turn black. A smile tugs at my lips while the life slowly drains out of him. I like the rush of killing. I know that’s what a serial killer would say. And although I do kill people, I do it because I’m ordered to. Not because I choose random people to torture. My assignments come from a higher-up. And you never say no. A Lord lives in a kill-or-be-killed world. And I don’t know about you, but I’d do anything to survive. Even if that means taking someone else’s life.
He drops to his knees before falling face-first onto the white marble floor.
I bend down next to his body and remove his cell phone from the pocket of his William Westmancott suit. Then I take the bolt cutters from my backpack and put his right pointer finger between the two blades before snapping it off. Dropping his hand, a fresh pool of blood flows from his now severed finger.
“I’m going to need this,” I say, opening up my backpack once again and pulling out the small lunch box. I place the finger inside, securing it with the ice pack, and then unzip my jacket pocket before placing the cell inside for safekeeping. He’s got a lock on it. Note to self: never use a body part to unlock your phone. It can easily be removed and used. Even an eye.
My head snaps up when I hear a sharp intake of breath. She sees the man lying facedown, and her red lips part to scream. The champagne flute in her hand falls to the floor, shattering at her heels. “Daddy—”
I’m slamming her up against the wall next to the open door before she can finish. My hand slaps over her mouth, and I pin her in place.
Big ice-blue eyes look up at the mask covering my face. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I could stare at them every second of every day. They’ve never been so large; she’s terrified of what she sees. Me. I can feel her small body trembling against mine, and tears start to fill her eyes. They’re gorgeous.