Page 83 of Assassin

Thankfully, they’d planned ahead.

It was all of the goodies that he’d had funneled into the United States to make sure his arrival was up and running.

The drugs weren’t for him.

No.

They were to sell to make more money if he needed it. While he liked to have fun, he wasn’t the kind of man who liked drugs in his system.

It screwed with his ability to…think.

Now, a drugged-up woman to break in order to get what he wanted…

That was another story.

It had been a while since he’d found a woman he felt something for, Alina was the last one, and she…betrayed him.

He trained her, taught her how to please him, and in the end, she lied to his face.

Instead of coming to the US to prepare for him, she went into hiding.

To escape him.

Well, he had news for her.

If he ever found her again, he’d tie her down, and he’d let every man within a hundred miles use her body until she was dead.

He actually cared about her, and she burned him. He’d loved her.

Oh, well, that wouldn’t happen again.

She’d taught him love was something that you didn’t need in your life.

Right behind compassion.

And Kindness.

Deep down, he knew she was dead.

There was no way she survived without him. The dumb whore wouldn’t make it a week without him. She tried to be strong, but she was nothing.

NOTHING.

Well, there would be someone else.

Once he got situated here, he’d find some malleable woman to make his own—not to love, since that boat sailed, but to own.

Mind.

Body.

Soul.

As he opened his laptop, he dialed into his meeting, and on the screen, Shing Reung appeared.

“How are operations going there?” he asked. “I’ve not heard from Fang in two days.”

The man was sweating.

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