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At least I wasn’t left with nothing to do when Killian went to… well, I’m not sure what he was going to. It’s top secret pack stuff, and while I worked with him and lived in his guest house, I wasn’t part of the pack.
He did give me the freedom to raid his arsenal, which I took full advantage of. I was attached to my own gun, but I needed to re-up on bullets. It seems that the guy in charge of that didn’t get a heads-up that I would be coming by and he swiftly told me that I had to business there. Luckily he recognized my target’s name first, but after told him I’d wager that Killian would have something to say about him holding me up, he relented. He still watched me like a hawk until I left.
I wouldn’t need anything else with the way I had everything planned out. I even did a little recon yesterday to make sure I had everything right. The last thing that I needed was a box of a specific size. There were plenty of empty ammo boxes left laying around, and I grabbed one on my way out. My trophy box. A little lining and it will be perfect.
Winston Phillips had a thing for short skirts, tall boots, and big boobs. He also had a thing for snatching business deals from under the nose of negotiators, in addition to the long list of other crimes he had against businesses and organizations and his roster of dirty cops.
The idiot was throwing one of his top-secret masked parties full of top-notch women and men that I wouldn’t let lick my boots. You find out lots of things when you go join amateur night at the strip club. As soon as I heard his name, I leaned in to get the information. The next morning, I went out to buy a mask.
This couldn’t have been more perfect.
I made use of the motorcycle that was made available to me, parking it half a mile away from Winston’s house and walking the rest of the way. It was a good thing I was a pro at high-heeled boots or this walk would be torture. I slipped my mask on a block away, then blended in with the guests that crowded the door and stepped inside.
There was loud music that flowed from one room into all available open spaces. I walked through small crowds of people, mostly groups of girls vying for the attention of one of the fat, powerful men in attendance that would gladly throw money at them. Looking at them, I felt a little overdressed. I thought I was pulling off ‘desperate,’ but seeing girls with nothing but panties and pasties trying their hardest to get a sugar daddy, I knew I was wrong.
I knew that I would have to play that part when I saw my target. Everyone knew who he was, even with the masks. He was the richest, most powerful, and most intimidating man in the room, standing and looking over the crowd as if he were a king. None of the girls were inebriated enough to approach him yet, despite the party already going for a couple of hours. It was my chance to make a beeline for him.
I opted to skip the champagne that was flowing, not wanting to leave any traces of DNA anywhere around here. I wasn’t in any system when I was with my last employer, but they may have fucked me and changed that when I cut ties. I’ll need to ask Killian to check for me. They have those capabilities there.
My flirty smile showed under my mask, eyes dancing as if I were the happiest girl in the world to see him. He spoke before I could.
‘Straight to the top. I like your ambition.’
What a cocky asshole. I kept those as my inside thoughts to fuel me later.
“What can I say, Mr. Phillips? I like a challenge.”
Through the eye holes of his mask, I saw his eyes roam over my body. They lingered on my tits, and I saw his slimy tongue slip between his lips.
‘So spirited. You’re just my type.’
He took in the skirt and the boots. The man was practically salivating. Clearly taking my for one of the hundred other bimbos in this room, he closed the space between us and laid a hand just above my ass. His breath was hot and wet against my ear as he delivered his next super-suave line.
‘I think I can help you out. Why don’t I have my assistant take you to my office, and I’ll join you in a few minutes, sugar tits.’
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
“That sounds like a plan, big boy. I’ll be waiting for you.”
It was so hard not to throw up in my mouth while I said that.
A short bald man in a suit appeared on my other side. I was instructed to follow him.
I found myself alone in Winston’s office, wandering around admiring the art hanging on the walls. Or so it seemed. What I was really doing was a preliminary check for the documents that Killian was after, all while using the ring that techy genius Kaeden let me borrow to detect cameras. This sick son of a bitch probably records his conquests here.
I had time to do a thorough for cameras. There were two detected, both aimed to record his desk. They weren’t on, but I pulled the wires from the backs with my gloved fingers.
I returned to the center of the room just as Winston walked through the door. He carried a pair of crystal champagne glasses full of bubbly. He handed me one and I immediately set it on his desk.
“Thank you, Mr. Phillips. That’s very thoughtful, but I’m going on six months sober.”
Of course I wasn’t, but I was positive he’d slipped something into the glass he handed me.
Before I could turn from the desk, he was behind me. I felt the same wet heat that had hit my ear radiate off of him and snake around my body. I shuddered and stood as still as a statue. One hand slid down my side between my top and skirt, then fingernails scratched back up. His hand was dangerously close to my chest.
As I stood there, my eyes dropped to the desk. Right there, in the fucking open, we’re the documents Killian was look for. What a moron.
My body shuddered as Winston mumbled praise about my body just before I felt his tongue slide up my neck like a slug.
Fuck. This.
I found what I came for. I didn’t need to waste any more time.
I slowly lifted my hand to my purse that hung on a strap across my body, flicking open the top. My hand dove in, and I grabbed my gun. The silencer was already attached, and I disabled the safety as I whirled around and pointed the muzzle at the center of his forehead.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
He opened his mouth to either protest or call for help. Before he could do either, a silent bullet was dispatched between his eyes and he dropped to the floor.
Crouching down, I tilted my head as I looked into his glassy eyes.
“See what happens when you think you’re untouchable?”
After that, I had to move fast.
My hand dove into my bag of tricks. The way I pulled out what I needed, you’d think it was bottomless. Rubber gloves. Knife. Trophy box in a plastic bag in case things got drippy. Extra bag for my trash.
I was feeling sadistic after this slimeball touched me, and I danced around his body as I worked. I made sure not to step in blood and leave tracks that could give me away. In no time, not only was his shriveled dick cut off and tucked into the box, but his fingertips since he scratched me and probably had my skin under his nails, and his fat, slimy tongue as well. That should be enough proof for Killian that the bastard was dead..
I made quick work of cleaning up, tucking everything carefully into my bag and putting my black gloves back on. The last thing I needed was those documents, which I picked up, glanced over to double-check, then rolled up and carefully added to my bag.
I gave the body a wide berth as I made my way to the door, listening carefully. Another flaw of Winston’s: he came alone. His idiocy really made my job easier.
The party was in full swing when I made my way downstairs. There were flowing drinks and undoubtedly drugs, bodies writhing on what was supposed to be a dance floor, and couples everywhere either in various states of undress or or straight-up naked and fucking.
I rolled my eyes, walking towards the front door. I almost made it before a hand grabbed my arm hard and pulled me backwards.
‘The party isn’t over, doll.’
I whirled around and wrenched my arm out of his hand, knowing he was going to leave a fucking bruise. My eyes flashed angrily behind my mask as I spoke through gritted teeth.
“It is for me.”
I made it out of the mansion unscathed, passing people that were still clamoring to get inside as I headed to my parking place.
I couldn’t wait to get back to the house. I needed to shower and burn these clothes in the fire pit, and I REALLY needed a fat joint.
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