Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
He’s precisely where his arrogant son got it from. I find myself searching for Eli as I peer through the eyeholes of the lace mask I’m wearing. I haven’t figured out how I’ll fuck with Eli tonight, but I pride myself on being creative. I considered strapping a bomb to his car, but there was no way I was getting away with that with the amount of security here.
So maybe I’ll slip a healthy dose of crushed fast-acting laxatives into his drink. I try to hide the smile curving at my lips at the delicate bracelet I wear with a small hollow that opens to said powder. At the very least, I’ll spike his drink.
“You’re not from here,” a voice says over my shoulder, and my spine straightens. I push against my natural instinct to grab my knife as I turn. When I face the owner of the voice, I find a beautiful man with striking blue eyes staring down at me. Much like with the Monti family, it doesn’t take me long to place the man hidden behind the white mask—Dutton Taylor.
“And how would you know that?” I ask, keeping my voice calm. The well-known womanizer and cousin to Eli is definitely not someone I wanted to cross paths with. He has a cold and calculating reputation. It’s not surprising considering he’s the son of Dawson Taylor, who’s known worldwide to run escorting services and virginity auctions, and Honey Taylor, who is the younger sister of my target’s mother.
“Because I know all the pretty things that move among this circle,” Dutton says. But I’m not fooled by the charm. He might not outright be a part of the Italian mafia like his cousin, but it’s obvious he’s just as dangerous.
I switch my own charm on with a smile. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Don’t be mistaken. I also say it to all the boys, especially when I want something.”
I keep my smile flirtatious. “And what do you want?”
I’d give anything to have a knife to his throat right now. Men like this are always used to getting what they want.
“To know how you got an invite to this party.”
Most likely, his cousin disclosed that someone was after him. In their line of business, that isn’t so surprising.
Before I can respond, his gaze drifts past me, and I see a deadly glint appear in his eyes. When I follow where he’s looking, I see his younger sister, Billie, smiling at a masked man.
“Excuse me,” he says curtly before beelining in their direction. I watch the scene unfold as Dutton grips the man by his hand and forces him onto his knees to apologize for even looking twice at his sister.
“Dutton! Stop acting crazy!” Billie screams as people circle around them.
“Apologize,” Dutton grits out again.
This is when the sea of people splits and Eli strides in like a devil-masked God. Coming in at six foot four, there’s no doubt in my mind he would’ve seen the unfolding of events and he just wanted to get closer.
Hawke throws an arm over Billie’s shoulder. “Come on, Dutton. It’s not that bad. Don’t make the poor guy piss himself at his own sister’s birthday party.”
I try not to smirk as I take my first sip of champagne. The more I immerse myself in the madness of this family as a quiet bystander, the more amused I am. That’s when every hair on my arms rises, and I’m acutely aware I’m being watched. The feeling is so heavy that I’m slow to lift my gaze from the groveling and apologizing man to a set of otherworldly eyes. Where he might take after his father with his strong jaw and perfect nose, he has his mother’s almost silver eyes. And they’re locked on me.
Eli doesn’t break his eye contact even when Michelle tugs on his arm, begging him to stop Dutton from his craziness. I don’t have siblings, but I imagine I would do the same if I did. As in break the man’s hand, I mean.
But Eli seems to barely notice her as his all-consuming gaze slowly roams down my figure and then back up. I can feel it like a caress on my skin, as if with his stare alone he’s physically touched me—a killer’s gaze and mark.
I’m not here to tempt him. Although, in other circumstances, I’d have no issue cornering him. I’m here to blend into the crowd and figure out how I can fuck with him a little more. The laxatives are a last resort. I can’t poison him yet. Besides, I’d prefer a bullet. So humiliating him is my next plan of attack.
When someone walks in front of me and breaks the eye contact, I take that moment to slip into the hallway beside me. Music is playing in the background as I notice a group of men on the left, snorting god knows what, in what appears to be a casual living space.