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The harbor itself was well lit, so I’d parked the Audi in a more discrete place nearby and walked the distance, nothing but my rifle bag with me. Another benefit of the fully researched game plan and an eidetic memory.
Low voices were drowned out by the foghorn, but I’d already honed in on their location. Crawling into the underbrush on the hill, I assembled my rifle, scope, and silencer and took aim, watching the door of the old warehouse. Two dark SUVs were parked in front, with a man behind each wheel.
Only one would leave with its passengers.
My patience was tested by the wait, the minutes ticking by without a sound or movement.
When the first man stepped out, I let him pass, watching each one until my target was within view.
I held my breath and pressed the trigger without hesitation. Instead of packing up and leaving, I watched through the scope as the man fell, eyes wide and blood trickling down his face.
This wasn’t like the movies where his allies searched the area to retaliate. They ran like rats, scurrying until they’d loaded in the other SUV and left, the driver of his getting out and dragging his dead body inside.
Tomorrow’s headlines would feature a lie fabricated by his people. Something to explain how he was found here, if he wasn’t moved by then. Either way, my job was done.
I rolled over and carefully set my rifle aside, breathing deep. Adrenaline and bliss were coursing through me. There was no need for hard drugs when I had highs like this.
Of course, the only thing I could think about now was my mate. Her face, her scent, her fire.
Thoughts of my mate and a raging erection had me unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my cock. My eyes rolled back once my hand began pumping, spurred on by the memory of that glare and her sharp words. I easily picture every movement she’d made in front of me, every glimpse of her cleavage or ass I’d committed to memory.
I was already so worked up that I didn’t have to wait long for gratification. My body tensed as hot cum shot onto my hand, her name a hint of a whisper on my lips, but it wasn’t enough.
She was all I could think about as I packed up my rifle, threw dirt over the spot I’d just occupied, cleaned myself up, and hurried back to the Audi.
Instead of heading back to the penthouse, I drove through town until I found the small house just on the outskirts of the city.
With practiced ease, I stalked up to her house and put the key I’d duplicated into the door. She didn’t have alarms like she should or a dog to keep her safe. It was far too easy to follow the soft sounds of her even breaths until I was standing over her sleeping form.
Bailey slept in only a tank top and panties, and her legs had fallen open to give me a barely hidden view of her pussy. My fingers itched to touch her, but I held myself back, imagining what I’d do if she begged me for it.
Because one day she would.
ChapterFour
Bailey
The senator’s idea of a small gathering was really a dinner party for nearly twenty-five people. As soon as I walked in, I was glad I’d gone out of my way to dress up for this event. I’d donned a sleek black dress from a high-end store. It was quickly becoming my signature style.
It was way more money than I’d ever considered spending before, but thanks to the Syndicate, I now had the funds to splurge a little. Plus, I had to go out of my way to play the part. I had to charm my way into his good graces or that of his allies, so I could find leads and use them to take him down.
It didn’t matter that I preferred quiet nights at home or casual gatherings. That Bailey couldn’t exist anymore. And I knew that when my job was said and done it would be a new Bailey altogether walking away.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. I was doing to him exactly what the Syndicate had done to me, though a bit more discreetly. In this life, it was survival. Everyone had something to hide, and I had a feeling that this senator had more than a few skeletons in his closet.
The gathering was being held at a local high-end restaurant. The Carrington was named after the owner, and he’d spared no expense. The floors were a shining marble, with sleek black walls that were decorated with fine art canvases. Crystal chandeliers adorned the entryway and center of the dining room we were in.
As the crowd casually chatted around the large table, a pianist played gently in the corner, adding to the ambience. The table was decorated with silver plates, fresh flower centerpieces, and tall candles that cast a warm glow over the room.
I’d barely made it a few steps before a woman in a tailored pantsuit blocked my path.
“You must be the senator’s new prize.” The nasally voice and obvious sneer had me raising my eyebrows at her, but I quickly put on a smile and purposefully raked my eyes over her outfit. If she was going to be a bitch, so could I. But that wouldn’t gain me any favor here.
She had on a dress that probably cost just as much as mine did. Her hair was professionally pinned up, and her makeup was practically airbrushed on. It hid her age well, but I was studying her closely enough to see a few wrinkles trying to peek through the Botox.
“I’m one of his new campaign managers,” I corrected with a fake smile. Kill ‘em with kindness and all that. This might not be my type of event, but I knew if I punched one of his guests, the senator wouldnotbe pleased.
She returned the smile with equal fakeness. “He does always go for the pretty young ones,” she said with a flippant giggle.
