Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Claudia turned to face him, and the bedside lamp illuminated the lovely angles of her face. In the half-light, her features relaxed, she reminded him of her mother. Thankfully, that was where their similarities stopped. Unlike Gwen’s mother, who had been a majestic and graceful woman, raised in upper-class London, with the fancy accent to prove it, Claudia’s mother had been a stripper. Claudia’s childhood had been a grab bag of public schools, TV dinners, and cheap clothes. The girl had practically raised herself, navigating through her mother’s terrible choices and laziness. If Robert Hawk hadn’t stepped in when he had, who knows what sort of worthless individual she might have become.
Now, she smiled, and he could see the pride in her face. “I told you.”
“And I told you that I verify everything.”
She knew this, of course. She remembered everything, this one. She was diligent. Smart. Obedient. Loyal. And now, as she had proved—capable of solving problems. He smiled at her clean and swift disposal of Bell Hartley. It wasn’t the first girl he’d killed to protect Gwen’s lifestyle and happiness. Not that the spoiled thing had ever appreciated it. That’d always been her problem. He gave the child everything she wanted, and when he expected Gwen to sacrifice for it, to earn it, she’d always balked at the actions necessary to achieve the results.
It was the same way with his pets. The girls he kept—they didn’t understand that they were being groomed and could be rewarded, based on their performance and respect. Respect was the hardest. You poke a cattle prod in a girl, and she would perform. Spark that baby, and she’d dance upside down on her tits if she could. Performance was easy. Respect … that was more difficult. Respect without fear, that was almost impossible. Out of twenty-four pets, he’d only had one who’d ever learned, one who took the lessons as they had been intended. Claudia.
Sometimes he wondered, if he had put Gwen through the same training, would she have shone, as Claudia did—or would she have failed, as all the others had.
He cleared his thought, meeting her eyes. “You did very well. I’m very proud of you.”
She swelled with the praise, a small blush coloring those cheeks. In his pocket, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and smiled when he saw Dario’s name. It had taken long enough, seven hours passing since Claudia had returned.
He toyed with the idea of not answering it and making the man wait. Surely, he understood what he’d done. Surely, he knew that Robert was responsible for taking his fuck toy from him. His grin widened. Surely, Dario was furious.
Maybe this would be the moment when Dario’s temper was finally displayed. He’d felt hints of it, seen a few sparks of fury, but had never had the chance to watch it explode. It seemed a pity to experience it through a phone.
His anticipation got the best of him and he pressed the button and answered the call. “Dario.” His exuberance slipped through the name, and he couldn’t help but inject warm affection into the next question. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
When Dario spoke, his words were tightly controlled wedges of dynamite. “I’m outside. I suggest you open the front door before I break it in half.”
Hawk straightened to his full height, his grin widening.
This. This would be fun.
Three
DARIO
Dario’s fury flexed, his grief and anger mixing into a cocktail he fought to contain. Now was the time to stay calm and be smart.
The ornate door swung open, revealing the opulent interior. Robert Hawk squinted at him. “It’s early, Dario. You’re lucky I wasn’t in bed.”
“I wasn’t aware the Devil had to sleep.”
The old man barked out a laugh, his eyes gleaming. If Dario was right, if he had set up Bell to die, he certainly wasn’t feeling any remorse.
“Come in, son. You seemed upset on the phone. Night not going your way?” He stepped back, waving off the suits behind him. Dario assessed the security detail. Two large men with guns on their hips, both carrying the sort of dead-eyed allegiance that money bought. If need be, he could take them, but he’d risk death in the process.
Hawk moved into a sitting room and took a high-back chair, one built for grandeur over comfort. “Well?” Hawk raised his eyebrows and couldn’t—or didn’t try to—control the glee on his face. Soon, he wouldn’t be so happy. Soon, once he found out about Gwen, he would implode.
Dario cleared his throat and forced his words to come out in as calm a manner as possible. “A couple of hours ago, I received a call from the police. There’s been an incident at The Majestic.”
“I can’t be bothered regarding every little incident that occurs, Dario. Surely you’re a big enough boy to handle these sorts of things by yourself.”