Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
My combat boots crush the leaves and branches under the soles once I hit the other side. The house lights up the woods in the middle of the night. As if any partygoer could miss the twenty-million-dollar mansion.
Making my way up to the house, I smile that the idiot doesn’t even have security at the front gate tonight. That’s how fucking cocky he is. Stupid motherfucker. He is not untouchable.
I stay low, crouching down behind the trimmed bushes lining the side of the property. Every now and then, I peek to watch the guests get out of their cars and limos to be escorted inside by men dressed in white tuxedos.
Not a single guy who resembles security is to be seen. He feels safe here. Making my way to the side of the house, I see the wooden lattice that I know she uses to get in and out of the house when she’s snuck out in the past. I start to climb it until I get to the second floor, where I jump the railing to the balcony. Wrapping my leather-covered hand around the knob, I turn it to find it unlocked.
Slipping into the bedroom, I look around and see it’s empty, like I knew it would be. She’s downstairs partying with the others. It’s been going on for hours. I’m sure she’s drunk and bored as shit by now.
The room is spotless. Not a single thing out of place. Her king-size four-post bed sits against the wall to the left. The white duvet covers it along with an obsessive number of pillows. The bench at the end has her favorite throw blanket that she prefers to wrap up in when watching a movie. I gave it to her for her birthday a few years ago.
Slowly walking through the room, I inhale the scent of vanilla. It makes me groan, thinking of grabbing her hair and burying my face in her neck. My fingers digging into her creamy thighs while my cock fucks her cunt.
I’m so fucking hard that it hurts. I dream about her when I’m asleep and awake. She’s consuming me to the point I’m suffocating.
Shaking my head, I adjust my dick and make my way to the door. I don’t have time for that right now. I leave the bedroom door open as I step out of the room and into a lit hallway. Large, expensive artwork hangs on the walls that he paid millions for from well-known artists.
Music filters up from the lower level as I wrap my gloved fingers around the wooden banister to see the people below.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, like they always are. But my eyes catch sight of a bleached blonde. Ellington Jade Asher. She stands over in the corner by a bar. Her back leans against it while she looks over the crowd with an expressionless look on her gorgeous face, and she’s holding a glass of champagne in her hand. I wonder how many she’s had.
My little demon. She’s always been the one. She doesn’t know it, but when the time is right, I’ll let her know.
Her mother walks up to her, and Elli gives her a fake smile.
Soon, Elli. Soon you’ll worship me like the devil worships his hell.
A man walks up the stairs, and I smile when I see who it is. Jackpot.
I push away from the banister and quickly make my way to the end of the hallway to the master suite. I hide behind the open door in the shadows and wait.
The sound of his feet approaching has my heart racing. I remove the gun from my jeans and slowly cock it, trying to make as little noise as possible.
He enters the room, and I watch him make his way past the Alaskan king bed and into the adjoining bathroom, all while he whistles. The light shines under the shut door, and I make my way over to it, softly turning the door handle and poking my head inside. I see him at the sink, opening a bottle of pills. Viagra.
Fuck, I hope someone shoots me when I have to take medication to get hard.
Popping the pill in his mouth, he throws back his glass of scotch, swallowing it. Not sure what the fuck he’s going to do with a hard dick while in the middle of a party, but it doesn’t matter.
When he turns to exit, I step inside the bathroom, raising my gun to aim at his head. He doesn’t even have time to register what’s about to happen when I pull the trigger.
The bullet hits him right between the eyes. Blood runs down his face and onto his shirt, and I watch his blue eyes turn black. A smile tugs at my lips while the life slowly drains out of him. I like the rush of killing. I know that’s what a serial killer would say. And although I do kill people, I do it because I’m ordered to. Not because I choose random people to torture. My assignments come from a higher-up. And you never say no. A Lord lives in a kill-or-be-killed world. And I don’t know about you, but I’d do anything to survive. Even if that means taking someone else’s life.