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“I’m the only one with taste,” he shouts before the doors shut.
There’s an actual smile on my face for the first time in two weeks, but it quickly fades when I think about breaking into Harlan Davies’ house so I can plant the cameras.
I want to see every move Skylar makes.
After using a wireless alarm jammer that cost way too fucking much, I enter the mansion through one of the windows.
When my feet touch the tiles, I glance around and find myself in the dining room.
With my eyes already used to the dark, I move to the doorway and search the wide open space of the foyer for movement before I creep toward the left, where I find the kitchen.
Glancing around, I decide to stick the tiny camera near the vent, figuring it’s not something they’ll look at often.
Not making a fucking sound, I use one of the stools by the island to climb onto so I can reach the vent, and when I’m done, I quickly move the stool back into place before sneaking out of the kitchen.
One down. Three to go.
I find the living room and hide a camera by the TV stand, and heading upstairs, I’m on high alert.
Not sure which bedroom belongs to Skylar, I carefully check through the rooms until I find hers.
I only spare the sleeping woman a glance before I quickly find a spot by her dressing table to plant the camera. When I turn around, my eyes land on the bed where Skylar’s kicked off her covers. Slowly, I move closer and stare at her right side, where the T-shirt has ridden up.
Seeing the bandage, a growl almost escapes me, and I have to fight the urge to rip the fucking bandage off and dig Giulio’s kidney from her body with my bare hands.
“Your time will come, and I’ll show you the same mercy Giulio received when they fucking butchered him,” I whisper, a world of vengeance coating my voice.
The woman stirs and mumbles sleepily, “Huh?”
Creeping out of her bedroom, I head back to the staircase, where I hide the last of the cameras before getting my ass out of the mansion.
When I make it back to the Bentley without being caught, I find Vincenzo chewing on his thumb nail.
When he sees me, he complains, “My heart can’t handle this shit. Next time, I’ll go in.”
“Let’s get out of here,” I order while climbing into the vehicle.
As we drive away from the mansion, the corner of my mouth lifts.
Now I can watch every little movement my prey makes.
Chapter 9
Skylar
The stitches were removed a few days ago, and Dr. Bentall says my body is adjusting to the transplant at a satisfactory rate.
Honestly, I feel as good as new, and with every passing day, I’m becoming stronger. I’m even gaining weight again.
While I fill little pockets of dough with shredded beef so I can make steamed dumplings, Louisa places a cup of tea on the counter.
“You’re spending too much time in the kitchen,” she chastises me. “You promised to take it slow.”
“If I take it any slower, I’ll be in bed twenty-four-seven,” I mumble. I shoot her a grin. “It feels like I’ve been released from a prison sentence. Let me enjoy life.”
“I just don’t want anything going wrong.”
Giving her a reassuring smile, I say, “Nothing will go wrong. I feel healthy, and as soon as I get tired, I’ll take a nap.”
