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GENEVIEVE
After our crazed sex that leaves the kitchen a mess, Archer carried me upstairs and ran me a bath. He slowly sank me into the tub and softly washed my hair and body, and I fell asleep in his arms. When I wake up the next day, I’m sore, and he panders to me all day. Actually, all of them do, even as they shoot me knowing looks, which just make me smile.
The last piece has finally clicked into place, and there’s nothing else between us now.
Two days later, I wake to find them having a meeting. I quickly slip into my seat, and Eric pushes me a mug of tea.
“Right, now that you’re awake, we can start.” Archer clears his throat as I blink in surprise. They waited for me? Why didn’t they wake me up? “We need to pick the next target to throw off the trail of our scent.”
“Any ideas?” Eric asks me, and I contemplate it, running through my mental shit list of rich people who fucked me over or just people in general really, but the richer the better.
“There’s one.” I lift my mug, taking a sip. “Taylor Arnold.”
Gage jerks, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open. “Taylor Arnold?” he repeats, and I nod in confusion.
“You know him?” I ask.
“A long time ago,” he whispers.
“Good or bad?” Archer demands.
“Bad, very fucking bad. The teacher I went to juvie over? That’s his older brother. Some rich businessman who took pictures of the underage girls and sold them. He made a killing, becoming an underground porn king. Whatever you wanted, he could get it. He’s as sordid as they come. I heard the feds took his operation down, but he got away with it and fled back here, still rich and soaking up the life.”
“I knew there was something vile about him,” I spit out. “You’re right—he’s living it up, spending money like a god. He gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants. I don’t know if he’s into that anymore, but he definitely was a creepy bastard.”
“Creepy how?” Booker demands, watching me.
“We met at a few social events. He was always very touchy-feely and making crude comments, but the type you couldn’t call out. All the men loved him, and the women hated him.”
Gage grunts and narrows his eyes on Archer. “Then that’s our next target.”
That’s when I realise that sometimes, the people who look like the bad guys are, in fact, the good guys, and those who hide in pretty clothes and jewels, dressed like saviours, are actually the villains. I’d known, but at this moment, hearing these words solidifies it for me.
* * *
It didn’t take much digging on Taylor to realise that although he’s trying to keep his head down so as not to be in trouble again, he’s not squeaky clean. There are reports of drugging and rapes at his parties that turn my stomach sour, mostly by staff working the events. They are poorer people who can’t fight back once they are silenced by his money.
It goes from a hit to a mission.
Gage’s anger, and his personal vendetta against this family, makes it almost too easy to plan. Archer is concerned our emotions will make us sloppy, but even he admits the plan will work and that someone needs to take this man down a peg.
Apparently, Taylor owns quite a few properties. His main one in the UK is a townhouse in London on one of the richest streets—I know because I looked at buying one there. His staff is always there, security too, but tomorrow, he’s holding a house viewing after deciding to sell.
It’s the perfect opportunity, but we can’t go in wearing masks this time, just disguises. I’m going to play a doting trophy wife, and Eric will be my rich husband. We’re going to breeze in under the disguise of looking around and then let the others in through the adjoining balcony next door. They will slip in, and we will cause a distraction, drawing all eyes and security, while they pillage his computer and safe and slip back out unnoticed.
That’s the plan, at least.
I end up going shopping with Booker for disguises, and early the next morning, we head down to the city, stopping along the way to change into our disguises. My hair is now a short ginger bob. Sunglasses hide my eyes, but I’ve added contacts, overdrawn my lips, thickened my eyebrows, and squashed my boobs as much as I can. I even added ass shorts, which look obscene under the fitted white blazer dress. They whistle as I come out. Eric grabs my ass as I laugh.
Eric has temporarily dyed his hair brown, and his beautiful eyes are now a dull brown to match. I find myself missing my blond-haired laughing man, but it does the trick, especially with his suit. I’m hoping Taylor won’t recognise me. He shouldn’t if he doesn’t look too closely.
The drive into London is horrendous as always, and by the time we pull up around the corner from the house, we are all cranky and ready to get this over with. I know Gage is thinking of this as revenge, so I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Behave,” I order as I turn to Eric. “Let’s go,husband.”
Smirking, he runs his lips across my cheek to my ear. “Husband?” he purrs. “I like the sound of that on your lips, wife.”
I shiver and lick my lips. I briefly meet Booker’s eyes, catching his smirk as his eyes drop to my breasts, and my throat goes dry.
Fuck.
