Page 5 of Wilt

“Why do you want to be a beauty queen?” the interviewer asks.

The question almost makes me smile. Mundane as it is, but I bet her answer will be anything but. As those ruby red lips part, I find myself sitting up straighter in my seat.

“To win,” she says.

I huff a laugh. She’s funny, something I didn’t expect from someone her age. She’s what? Twenty-one, almost twenty-two? She’s a rose with hidden thorns—maybe her new name fits her after all.

A murmur runs through the auditorium, and she pauses for a moment, waiting for the noise to die down. I can’t help but notice how she stands apart from her competition. Her hair is an artful tumble of loose curls in coal with an undertone of embers. She looks like she tumbled out of bed, ready to be lured right back into it.

And that dress…

Fuck me.

It’s pure sex and sensuality. A hint and a tease and… Oh, shit. She’s speaking again.

I lean forward, listening intently.

“To win,” she goes on, raising her voice a little, “shows a person can get to the top using their talents and attributes. I’m not going to say I want to change the world. That’s a given. We all do. I want to be a beauty queen to be noticed, to get the right jobs to reach my goal of being an ambassador.”

I tune out the rest. I’m studying her instead, not her words, and as the questions come, she answers them with confidence, passion, and skill. She doesn’t answer with the false modesty her opponents lay on thick. She’s telling the truth, bold and poised, maybe even foolish. Granted, if she’s lying, she’s good at it.

Very good.

I’ll have to remember that, but now that she’s in my sights, nothing’s going to stop me from getting what I want. Watching her, a new plan starts to bloom and unfurl in my head.

It’s going to be perfect.

Originally, I was going to take them both, torture Steph, and maybe send Finnegan pieces of her in a gift bag, a gruesome reminder of what he did to my aunt and uncle, my only true family besides Rush. I never thought about what I’d do with the kid.

To my dismay, the hippie, Steph, is dead and her daughter named Thorne at birth—now Rosalind—isn’t a kid anymore. Grown, gorgeous, and looking too much like her father. His blood is in her veins; it stains her, marks her.Dooms her.

I get up and straighten my suit just as she steps back to a round of applause. The next girl is called, but I couldn’t give a fuck about the blonde or the competition. I’m here for one thing and one thing only.

Revenge.

Making my way from my seat, I move up the aisle to the exit door through to backstage and step one of my plan. Her beauty makes it much easier than I anticipated. So does the sexual pull to the curve of her hips, the line of her legs, the swell of those tits made to fit into a man’s hand.Myhands.

When I’m done with her—if I let her live—she’ll be ruined for everyone after me.

There’s a security guard at the side exit, and I nod to him. He nods back as I slip him a thick envelope filled with cash. His eyes grow big as he palms it.

Of course, he knows who I am. If not who precisely, he knowswhatI am, the power I hold. My family’s snake and rose emblem embossed on the envelope gives it away. The Wilders have hands in many cookie jars in this city—in politics, law enforcement, underground circles. If he’s smart, he’ll pocket it and let me go without a second glance.

Indicating left with a dip of his head, I walk past him and move quickly down the long, dark hall to the next door. It takes me backstage, where my man, my contact, waits.

I remove another envelope from my inner jacket pocket, the air already stinging with hairspray and perfume.

“Which way?” I ask him, voice low.

He takes the money and slips it into his suit jacket. “Through here and to the right. Jenny will be waiting.”

I raise a brow. “And who’s that?”

He doesn’t answer my question. “You can trust her.”

“Willing to bet your life on that, Priestly?” I grumble under my breath. “I told you, no loose ends. I can’t risk fucking this up.”

His shoulders tense. “I know exactly where she is—Finnegan’s daughter. I’ve tracked down another contestant’s mother. Her daughter was knocked out of the running and wants to help, for the right price. She assures me she won’t say a word.”

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