Page 52 of Hate Mates

“Impossible, I’m certain.” I flash him my best flirty smile, even if I’m seething inside at his assumptions.It’s part of the job, I remind myself again. It’s the mantra I’ll be chanting in my head until the kill is done, and I can sever ties from this insufferable man. Well, until the next time our boss decides to thrust us together again.

“Shut up, sweetheart,” he whispers, then feathers kisses along my jaw. When he reaches the corner of my mouth, we’re interrupted by another voice.

“Mr. Mayhew, welcome,” a short man with a balding head and protruding belly says as he approaches.

“Thank you,” Andrew says, stepping in front of me slightly to offer his hand to the stranger. “Jensen, I presume?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Maclain has been expecting you.”

“Of course,” Andrew says with a casual nod. “My wife delayed us some, but who can complain?” He holds my hand above my head, spinning me in a circle in front of Jensen.

I’m a trophy tonight. The plaything for men’s appreciation and pleasure.

It’s disgusting but necessary when infiltrating such circles. Fuel for my ire is how I see it, making my bloodlust for this kill even more than I had before stepping into this mansion.

“Yes, sir,” Jensen repeats dismissively, obviously not impressed by either of us, holding an arm out to usher us into the mansion.

Time to get this party started.

TWO

Andrew

Our last name is different this time, but our aliases are always similar. Beth is Christine Mayhew, the beautiful wife of international financier, William Mayhew. A young, handsome, and most importantly wealthy couple that nobody knows too much about.

She’ll be ogled by degenerate creeps once we step inside, and we’ll both pretend to enjoy it. William Mayhew is the type to share his toys.

Andrew Pratt is definitely not. That’s not who I am right now, but by the end of this foray, I’ll be back in his mind… with Lyle’s brain is spilling out of his head. I’ve waited for this night for a very long time. Nothing will stop me.

Not a blown cover, not an overzealous bodyguard.Nothing.

Maclain is responsible for the death of my baby sister, a fact only The Agency is aware of. It’s been four years. It feels as fresh as the day I received the news.

Tonight, I deliver Franny’s vengeance.

Beth may want the kill, but this one is mine. She can be as angry about it as she’d like; I couldn’t care less. It’s not the first time I’ve taken a kill from her. It’s why she hates me so much,after all. The little bitch stole my money as payback. A lot of my money.

A lifetime worth for some, several lifetimes worth for others. Soon, she’ll be paying me back. I look forward to it. Almost as much as I look forward to watching Lyle bleed out at my feet.

The mansion is sleek, modern architecture. The house sits high on the hills overlooking the city below. Prime real estate full of clean lines and lavish furnishings—expense wasn’t spared in its construction.

Sex trafficking,sex slavery, pays quite lucratively.

Maclain has gotten away with his crimes for so long he likely believes he’s above consequences. If I had my way, I’d kill every sick fuck in attendance tonight.

One by one. Lyle is the ringleader; we start with him and then methodically take out anyone stupid enough to try and replace him.

“Enjoy your evening, sir,” Jensen says to me once inside, ignoring Beth. Women are only here to be seen and fucked. Even the paid staff treats them as such. It rattles every nerve in my body. This is how Franny was treated, before they did much worse to her.

Tension knots in the crook of my neck.

“Baby, I need a drink,” Beth purrs, placing her hand on my shoulder and sliding it soothingly to that spot. I don’t know how she’s so intuitive, but I’ve noticed it before. Nothing gets past her; she reads people with an ease I’ve never seen.

It’s no wonder The Agency wanted her.

I want her for my own, in between all the time I want to strangle her. Which I want to do more than not. I’d have had her after our night in Paris if I hadn’t fucked her over on her very next job. The Agency is partially to blame. That assignment should have been mine, only they didn’t trust me to keepemotion out of it. They know better now, thank fuck, otherwise I wouldn’t be the man Beth is draping herself over tonight.

“I like it when you’re needy,” I say and guide her further into the house. There is the scent of sex weighing down the whole place. Almost as if you must push it out of the way to take a step.

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