Chapter 9: : Chapter 9

“Why did you do that?” Dutton asks as we get out of the car. They’d all been smart enough to remain silent in the car, but my cousin has always had the uncanny ability to provoke me where the other two at least know where to stop.

“Do what?” I ask him.

There is no reason or rhyme to what I do. I do what I want when I want.

And he thinks because we’re blood, it keeps him immune from my temper.

“You invited her to the club. Why would you do that?”

I look up at the elegant building that belongs to Edward Graham, a man with whom it would appear I have unfinished business.

When I don’t answer Dutton, he sighs, frustrated. “Will found everything on her, you know that. Why are you pushing this? If your father knows someone has a hit out on you, he’ll deal with it immediately himself.”

I impose on his space, and Hawke and Ford have better sense than to get between us. My cousin is shorter than me, but he isn’t deterred by the physical difference. Very few intimidate him.

“I’ll deal with this. And if you so much as speak of this to my father or mother, I won’t be lenient with you.”

“Need I remind you that I don’t work for you?” Dutton all but snarls.

“No, but you sure as hell like to get up in my business.”

Dutton smiles, actually fucking smiles, like a wild man. “Fucking pussy whipped already.”

I grab him by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“I don’t repeat myself,” he says, placing his hand over mine. “And as much as you’re being an asshole right now, you’re still my cousin, and I will always protect family. Even if you can’t see clearly right now.” He breaks my grip on his shirt and pushes me away.

I don’t have to answer to anyone, but I remind him, “Someone has a hit on me. I’d rather unravel which family is behind pulling the trigger, not the woman behind the scope. I can handle her.”

“Keep your enemies close, huh?” Hawke says, trying to dissipate the tension. I adjust my suit, and Dutton brushes his light-brown hair back, not that any of it is out of place. His square golden ring shines in the light, and I remember the last time he clocked me with it. That ring has certainly busted my lip more than once.

“Besides, we’re here for business,” I remind Dutton, who cracks his neck to one side and then the other. This is a personal matter for him, too.

We enter the office space, which is a large twenty-story building filled with agents. I don’t even spare a glance for the receptionist as we stride to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor.

It’s a tight fit with all four of us, and I adjust the cuffs of my suit out of habit.

“I like her,” Hawke blurts randomly from behind me. Dutton side-eyes him, and Ford nudges his brother. This fucker never knows when to shut his mouth or leave something alone.

“You can never read a room, can you?” Ford shakes his head in disapproval.

“What I’m saying is maybe you should marry her so your father can finally hand everything over to you, and once you’re done with her, knock her off if you’re already planning on doing that.”

“That’s a fucking stupid idea, Hawke. Eli isn’t going to marry a woman who puts fucking rats in his drawers and stalks him,” Dutton barks back.

Ford cautiously asks, “So why does he look like he’s thinking about it?”

And I do everything to refrain from smirking. Hawke’s not the brightest guy, but sometimes that motherfucker is a genius. But I’m not sure if I want to deal with the hassle.

The elevator doors open, and I see Edward grappling with the phone. Most likely it’s the receptionist advising him we’re on our way.

“M-Mr. Monti, what a p-pleasant surprise,” he stutters. The last time I saw Edward was at Michelle’s party, and I had my arms wrapped around his throat after he tried to assault one of the women there.

I’m no hero, and I’m not here specifically for that. What I want is my money.

“I have the money. It’ll just take one more day to transfer. Or I can give you the cash right now.”

Hawke and Ford take either side of the door to ensure no one interrupts us, and I step toward his desk, evaluating the large room. It’s flashy for a corrupt accountant, and it’s good to see the money he owes my family has been going elsewhere.

Dutton stops at the edge of the desk, but I walk all the way around and look down on the fat little man whose eyes are black and swollen from the broken nose my tigress gave him. My upper lip twitches. She broke it well.

He scampers out of his chair and presents it to me. I sit, kicking my feet up onto the desk. I pull out a cigar and light it. Edward doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself and stands awkwardly to the side, a foot away from me and Dutton.

“I have the money.”

I smile and look at the boys, as if imploring them to get in on a joke. “The problem is, Edward, I shouldn’t have to come in here personally to receive it or remind you. I only do reminders once.”

“If this is about the woman from the party, I didn’t know she was yours…” he says nervously.

I give nothing away. “Everything in this city is mine, Edward. Including you.”

I’ve done my research on Edward, and he’s a disgusting piece of shit who is underhanded and especially grotesque toward women. “Everyone and everything are replaceable, though, aren’t they?” I add, and I swear the motherfucker is about to piss himself.

I find the button to the window shutters and press it, the slow pace of them dropping, agonizing the man in front of me as he turns a noticeable shade paler.

“I’ll have the money to you by tomorrow. I swear,” he promises.

“That’s good, Edward. But as punishment, you will now give us a forty percent cut of your profits.”

His jaw opens and closes several times before he says, “But it’s only at twenty percent now, that’s⁠—”

With lightning speed, I jump out of my chair and pull out my new favorite knife, the one I stole from a certain little hitwoman. It all happens so quickly, and it’s not until he’s screaming that he understands what just happened. Dutton has him pinned back by the shoulders as I firmly hold down his arm, the blade smeared with blood from where I detached his finger with it.

My favorite color spreads over the table, and I relish the beautiful red glistening in the light.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” I remind him.

I hand the knife over to my cousin as I pick up my cigar again to take another puff.

I exchange places with Dutton, despite Edward screaming and trying his best to fight against us. I clamp down on his shoulders, cigar hanging out of my mouth.

“My cousin came here on business. But I came here for something personal,” Dutton says, and the demon in him comes out to play. This is a side to him that not many see when the mask slips. He rips open Edward’s shirt, revealing a hairy stomach.

“Please… P-please!” Edward screams hysterically.

Dutton smiles, taking pleasure in toying with him. “It’s public knowledge I’m protective over my family. Especially my little sister. You remember Billie, don’t you? You tried to, what would she call it… slide into her DMs?”

“I-I don’t kn-know what you’re t-talking about,” he babbles on a sob, slowly starting to lose consciousness from the pain and shock.

“Well, she, of course, never saw that message because I deleted it. What isn’t common knowledge is that I have access to all of my baby sister’s messages. I’m quite protective, you see, and I’ve deemed you someone who needs to be taught a lesson about how you treat women.”

His screams bounce throughout the room as my cousin casually and artistically starts carving “Pin prick” into his chest and stomach.

By the time we’re done with him, he’s sobbing under his desk, barely conscious.

“I don’t want to come back here again,” I warn him as we make our way out, satisfied by the thrill but my thirst deeply unquenched for more blood. Discipline is a skill, one I’ve continued polishing. But even I need a release, and right now, the thought of Michelle repulses me; my cock only twitching at the image of amber eyes glaring at me with scorn and repulsion.

I smirk to myself, wondering how she’ll cry when she chokes on my cock.

My hitwoman has turned into the perfect little distraction.