I donât work today, so I decide to read up on the extra files Rory sent me on any public business announcements or obvious relationships Eli Monti has. Iâve become obsessed, primarily due to the fact that my life literally depends on it.
On my days off, Iâd usually be at the gun range practicing. Itâs the only time all my busy thoughts are silent, and I have one thing to focus on. Just the target. I know Iâd be too distracted for it today, and itâd only infuriate me more, most likely throwing off my aim. And I outright refuse to have anything less than perfect aim.
Eli has gotten under my skin. I donât usually dance with my targets. Hell, I usually donât even talk to my targets. And I certainly donât let them put their hands beneath my skirt and ride their fingers to a very frustrating missed climax.
I only received one text from Eli after he sat outside my apartment for almost an hour last night. It not-so-cryptically and simply stated, âDelivery.â Two minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
It caught me by surprise this morning when he sent food to the apartment. Not only breakfast but a hot chocolate as well because he must know I think coffee tastes like the devilâs piss. Iâm not sure what his definition of a love letter is. But sending a woman food is pretty fucking close. Not that I would accept it. So when Jenny received it at the door, I told her it was from me to her. A total fucking lie. Because of her shocked expression, I had to explain further that I felt guilty for borrowing her heels without asking. I didnât feel guilty at all. And if anyone in this apartment was going to get food poisoning, it wasnât going to be me.
Not that I wanted her to be murdered, and I was ninety percent sure Eli was above doing something so sly. Not because he had morals or a conscience, but Iâm certain poisoning me wouldnât give someone like Eli satisfaction. No, Eli is definitely the type to choke me to death with his bare hands. Or something else just as up close and personal.
Although the thought did cross my mind that if such an unfortunate thing were to happen, at least I could totally steal those heels back.
I stop reading the files to check my phone again. I would have thought by now heâd have contacted me about his admirable watch collection that is⦠well, not so impressive now. I pull up the surveillance cameras I placed in his mansion last night; there are three in total. One in the bedroom, another in the private bathroom, and the last in the walk-in closet. I rewind the footage, certain he went back to the mansion last night.
Itâs a gamble, really, but I had to get under his skin as much as he has mine. While I was there, I also looked for information that my client might want to know about him, but the asshole is as clean as he is ruthless.
I grin like a Cheshire cat as I roll onto my stomach on my bed and kick my feet back and forth. I love watching him discover his missing watch collection. I look at the box in the corner of my room where I threw the thousands of dollars worth of watches like they were less than garbage. I still donât know what Iâll do with them; that wasnât the point.
Perhaps provoking the monster whoâs promising to kill me isnât the smartest thing to do, but since itâs part of the game Iâve been hired for, I remind myself itâs necessary, and Iâm not doing it simply to piss Eli Monti off. Iâm doing it because itâs a job.
My smile slips, and my heart falters as Eli steps into his bathroom and begins peeling off his shirt. My mouth goes dry as I scan over the intricate pattern of black and gray skulls and dragons twisting through one another across his back and down his arms. His chest and stomach are completely covered in ink, and I canât help but appreciate the finery of it.
Thatâs when he looks directly at the camera, and I gulp. He saw this last night, so why hasnât he mentioned it yet? Why has there been no consequences? And then he smirks at the camera as he slowly undoes his belt. I canât look away as he pulls out his sizable cock.
Iâve seen it many times before, specifically when heâs fucked his lover, Michelle, whom he hasnât touched since almost a month ago. I stare, mesmerized, as he fists himself and pumps, staring into the camera the whole time.
That son of a bitch is fucking with me, and yet I canât look away, imagining what it might feel like to have him inside me. I fantasized about it nudging at my entrance last night when I sat on his lap. Heat spreads up my body as I recall his hand around my throat.
Fuck.
I jump, goose bumps erupting over my skin, as three defiantly loud knocks come from the front door. I immediately close my screen and hurry from my bedroom, but Jenny has already beaten me to the apartment door. She twists to look at me, her expression a mix of shock and suspicion. No doubt because of the asshole with a sultry gaze staring at me from the other side of the threshold as if itâs his God-given right to show up at my apartment.
Shit.
And to make a point, he steps inside before being welcomed in. He scans the room, most likely because itâs smaller than the bedroom he grew up in.
âUmm, hello?â Jenny says in a high-pitched voice. Eww. Why do people go gaga over this man? Yes, heâs attractive, there is no denying that, but shouldnât she be more concerned with the man barging in without introduction?
âJewel.â He says my name, ignoring Jenny, as his ethereal gaze lands on me again. In the daylight, with the sun shining through the windows, they look almost silver, much like his motherâs. Itâs bizarre to see him in the daylight.
I cross my arms over my chest, conscious of my pajama shorts and tight tank top that clings to my naked frame. He seems to notice the same. I lean my shoulder against wall.
âI thought the devil only works at night,â I say dryly.
Jennyâs mouth drops open. âYouâre here for Jewel?â she says in disbelief. Come on, he clearly looks dangerous. Sheâd have a fucking coronary if I told her this manâs an outright killer.
Eli glances over his shoulder at her as if noticing her for the first time. I donât like his casual outfit, which still consists of a long-sleeved button-up shirt to hide his sinful tattoos and a body that isnât fair for anyone to witness because once seen, you canât unsee it. I canât not compare it to all the men that came before him and they donât even come close. And I hate adding to his God complex, which is why Iâll never admit it out loud.
âYes, Iâm dating Jewel and thought Iâd come by for a quick hello between business meetings. And you are?â Eli flicks her a charismatic smile, and I want to gag at the monster playing housecat. Jenny blushes the moment he offers his hand, and she takes it. She looks equally awestruck and confused.
Yes, itâs so unfathomable to believe me, the person who stays in her room other than to go shooting or to work, has a boyfriend.
I donât even attempt to dispute him because poor Jenny canât take any more confusion right now, but I narrow my gaze, unimpressed by his antics.
âDid you forget I was coming over, Kitten?â he asks sweetly.
A shudder of revulsion rolls through me at the pet name.
âKitten?â Jenny says, baffled, as he removes his hand from hers. I can tell by the way heâs looking at it that his particular immaculate self most likely wants to scrub his hands.
âLetâs get this over with,â is all I say as I lean my back against the wall to make space for him. Not that itâs enough, considering the width of the fucking man.
He seems amused as he stares down at me while walking past. Then he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into my own room, closing the door behind us.
The moment the door closes, he drops my wrist and glances around the very empty space. I have nothing personal in here, apart from a few books and a photo of my father and me. When he notices the photo, he picks it up. I donât like him studying it so intently, but itâs no liability, either. The only thing really worth anything is the box in the corner, and the only thing hiding the contents is the thin cardboard lid.
The longer he stares at the photo, the more uncomfortable I become, not because heâs in my room but because I canât stop my gaze from tracing down his shoulders and back, imagining the video I was watching only a few minutes ago. The heated flush returns to my cheeks with a vengeance, and Iâm fucking furious he has this type of hold over me.
âYour father is dead, correct?â he asks, breaking me from my thoughts.
âYes.â I step away from the door and place my hands behind my back. Iâm just grateful I donât store my guns here. Theyâre the only possessions of mine that mean anything to me. So, giving him access to this room is nothing. He can burn it down for all I care; everything is replaceable.
âAnd your mother?â
âIâm sure you know all the details, so why are you here?â
âDid you like the food I sent?â he asks, putting my photo back down and then wandering around the room. He runs a finger along the window sill as if looking for dust. Prick. I might not own much furniture, but Iâm not a slob.
âNo, I gave it to Jenny,â I tell him. âIâm vegan.â
âLiar,â he says as he trails his hand along the wall and stops at my dresser. He opens the first drawer and pauses as he stares down at the array of colorful lace. He pulls out a red G-string and holds it up with one finger.
Still holding my underwear, he asks, âShould I take these?â
âWhy would you want to take them?â
âSo when I fuck Michelle, I can think of you.â Red-hot anger and some other emotionâjealousy, maybe? No, it couldnât be thatâflash inside me. It pisses me off that his sudden mention of Michelle has any effect on me. He smirks when I donât respond to his antics, and he slips my underwear into his pocket and closes the drawer.
âI thought Iâd stop by and return the love letter,â he says, coming to a stop in front of me.
âNo dead rat?â I ask, folding my arms over my chest as he fishes a note from his pocket.
âDo you want one that badly?â He looms over me, and I grow uncomfortable at the way he looks down my chest, his gaze seeing all of me.
âNot particularly.â I refuse to look away from him, meeting his gaze as if it does nothing to me.
He bends down slightly so his hot breath is against my ear. âHave a good day, Jewel,â he tells me as he places a perfectly folded note into my hand. âIâm sure Iâll be seeing you real soon.â
I look up through thick eyelashes as he straightens to his full height again and I point to the door. âYouâre starting to get awfully needy.â
He chuckles as he turns to go. âSome might call me attentive.â
âIâve never asked for your attention,â I remind him.
He freezes with is hand on the door handle and looks over his shoulder. âYou donât need to, sweetheart. Your body tells me all I need to know about what type of attention you need.â
I stop my jaw from dropping as he lets himself out.
Arrogant asshole.
Jenny is busily scrubbing a pot in the kitchen as she watches him leave. âBye!â she calls out, but he doesnât acknowledge her or even look back at me. The moment he lets himself out the front door, I slam my bedroom door before Jenny can ask me any questions.
Fucking asshole.
I open the note he placed in my hand.
Jewel,
If you want your guns back, you will come to my mansion at eight oâclock tonight. Use the front door for once.
Sincerely,
The man whose cock youâre going to come all over.
My hands are shaking so much I almost tear the note in half.
My guns? No way.
How could he possibly know where they are?
The next hour is a blur as I quickly change and drive out to the storage unit Iâve rented under a fake name to keep my guns safe.
Iâm warily looking over my shoulder as I all but speed walk down the hall full of roller doors until I find my number. He couldnât know where I store them, could he? Fear grips me so profoundly that even on the drive here, I couldnât talk myself into any sense. Heâs just fucking with me. He has to be. But itâs something I canât leave to chance.
And so help me, God, he better not have one of my fucking guns.
Theyâre like my babies.
In fact, if I were to ever have kids, Iâd sell them all to him in exchange for my guns.
When I finally reach my unit, I unlock it, lift open the door⦠and find it empty inside. My stomach grows heavy, and my heart feels like itâs stopped. Everything goes quiet as the reality of my situation sinks in. I take two steps inside and stumble to my knees.
No.
This is all I had.
Iâve never felt so exposed.
Vulnerable.
All I have to remember my father is gone.
My guns were my point of living.
A hollow emotion grips me, one I try to push away because I donât do emotion. I havenât since my father died.
This is all I have.
My mother shunned me and walked out.
And my father left me too.
This is all Iâve ever had since then to give me purpose.
Itâs what Iâm good at. But what kind of hitwoman am I if I let some asshole steal them so easily?
âThis means war, motherfucker,â I grit out angrily, for the first time starting to create a personal vendetta against this guy.
First, it was just business.
Now, itâs personal.
Iâll enjoy it when I bury him six feet under.
I stomp from the empty space, then slam the door down and scream, the echoing sound, a chaotic promise to retrieve my precious property.
My eyes burst open with focus.
Fuck him.
Now, we play.