Page 26 of Vengeful Lies

“I may not be nurturing, but if there’s one thing I’ve instilled in you, it’s that you’ll do what needs to be done. Don’t agonize over this one caveat. Take an obedient wife and rule over New York. It’s as easy as that.” He stands and places the glass down.

He steps toward the door but pauses. “Also, I received your gift.”

I grin. “The new car? What do you think?” I had it custom-made for him and oversaw the specifications myself. The car is fucking sexy.

“Just don’t tell your mother about it. Wouldn’t want her to know I go over the speed limit or anything,” he says dryly, and I chuckle. The corner of his mouth tilts up as he excuses himself.

I’m left alone in the office, his words swirling in my head.

“Take an obedient wife and rule over New York. It’s as easy as that.”

Why does that thought make me want to vomit?

Because there’s no fun in that.

My mind drifts to a pair of amber eyes and the memory from earlier tonight of holding her in place against my cock. I would much rather force my wife into submission than have her come willingly.

Even after I leave the club, I can’t stop thinking about the way she melted against my palm, fucking herself on my fingers. I should’ve killed her the moment I first cornered her in that room at the party. But I find her very intriguing, not just because she’s an attractive woman but because of her very blunt and cold personality. I can tell she doesn’t like it when men touch her. She tensed up when Dutton placed his hand on her back, and she always puts space between herself and anyone else, as if it personally offends her when someone gets too close, which is precisely why I do exactly that. I want to force her to crumble into defeat and submission. I remind myself it’s just business to use her as a pawn to flush out whoever is targeting me. But now, the intrigue is far outweighing the logic.

I’m not sure how long I’ll keep her alive, but even Will has drawn a blank on who might’ve hired her. She’s either very fucking good, or her client is very lucky. I can’t work out which one it is.

That undeniable curiosity has me driving past her apartment at three in the morning. I park along the curb, surprised to find her shadow moving across the curtains.

I consider the things my father said, and at no point was I even tempted to tell him about my precarious situation. If my father knew anything about it, his advice would be very simple: kill her. In fact, he’d probably try to do it himself.

My phone lights up with a text message.

Stalker: Do you plan to come in and leave me love notes? Kiss Emoji

I can’t help the smile that tugs my lips. Is that what she calls the notes she leaves stabbed to my door? I guess she did leave a kiss mark, so maybe that’s her definition of a love note. It also doesn’t surprise me that she knows I’m parked outside her home. I don’t care much if she bugged my car or just has phenomenal security outside her window. It’s not like I’m exactly hiding.

I reply to her message.

Me: Would you like a love note?

Sincerely,

The man who left you soaking wet.

I look back up to her window. Only a few seconds pass before she pulls back her curtain. And despite the distance, I notice the scornful glare she shoots me. She flips me off with her bandaged hand, and my upper lip twitches, amused by her incessant urge to piss me off.

I like the spice she has in her. When I was watching that man talk to her at the bar, I could see her demeanor change completely. It was like she went from being a seductress to a lethal killer. I haven’t seen anything like it in a woman in a very long time. Anya Ivanov, the twins’ adoptive mother, is the only woman I have ever seen switch so quickly and completely, but then again, we always knew she was a little crazy. And although the twins aren’t biologically hers, they definitely take after her.

Her face is illuminated as she looks down at her screen, and then my phone lights up with another text.

Stalker: I would love one since I’ve left you so many. By the way, which man is this? Sorry. Kiss emoji

After I read her message, I look back up, but she’s already closing her curtains, and then the lights switch off.

Although she’s being a smartass, I contemplate leaving her a “love note” to return the favor of the dead rat.

A love note. Can’t say I’ve ever written one of those before, but if her love notes are anything to go by, I’m sure I’ve got this in the bag. I sit parked outside her apartment for another thirty minutes, contemplating welcoming myself into her apartment.

Then again, this cat-and-mouse game isn’t so fun if I trap her so easily in her own home. I can come back anytime.

I decide to drive to my mansion. It’s only a thirty-minute drive from the city, and it gives me time to consider my next hand to play, as well as my father’s words.

When I arrive home, I undo my tie as I approach the entrance. One of my guards stands at attention, and I throw him the keys to my car. My home is quiet at this time, and it’s nice to see neither of the twins has crashed here for the night. Sometimes Hawke likes to crash at my house simply because he thinks the gaming is better in my cinema room. It’s just an excuse for him being bored and constantly needing to be around people.

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