“I told you there was no way they could be involved,” Karl gloats.
“I’m leaving,” Isabella hisses, stalking toward the entrance, but nothing happens. “I said. Let. Me. The fuck. Out of here,” she demands, whirling around.
At her words, the Senator’s earlier smugness returns. “No one else leaves before the sun rises. Survive the night if you want out,” he spits, yanking her head back as he settles behind her. His hand glides up her torso, then squeezes her breast until she screams in pain. “Your Daddy should’ve taken my offer to run as Vice President. Let’s see how serious he takes me when I send him a video of you being fucked stupid.”
The door to the surveillance room opens, and Matthieu walks back in and freezes at the sight of Isabella in the Senator’s clutches. “Are you sure we can’t kill them now?” he growls.
“Brian and the other two senators, sure. Samantha and Baker-not until we get the chip deactivated,” I explain, swiveling in my chair to face them.
Inhaling, Matthieu collects himself before pressing the intercom. “The game hasn’t begun. I suggest you let her go unless you want this night to end very differently, Senator Baker,” he commands-his French lilt more prominent as he tries to control his anger.
The Senator snarls at the reprimand, tugging harder on Isabella’s roots before he shoves her away and stomps to the bar to demand a drink. I glance down at my watch.
Ten minutes.
“O, Rowan, and Wy, you all should get going to be in position,” I instruct, turning away from the monitors.
A smile forms on Karl’s face. His hazel eyes blaze with the promise of retribution. “Porter is mine.”
Sebastian sits to my right as we watch the carnage before us. There might be some sympathy for the slain and those still left if they weren’t traitors.
“Do you think they realize they’re killing their own people?” Sebastian laughs, entertained by one of the Senators slitting the throat of one of his men, unknowingly. He stands proudly over the masked man he killed, too focused to realize a true hunter stealthily moves behind him. Much like a doe in a field, he isn’t aware until it’s too late. Am?lie’s knife slams into the back of his neck with such force that it pierces his cervical vertebrae, poking through his Adam’s apple until the sharp tip, coated in the man’s blood, is visible from his throat.
Never taking my eyes from the lethal assassin, I ask, “Is she always like this?”
“From all the stories I’ve heard, yes. This is my first time actually seeing her or Henri in person. I’ve only ever seen footage of their work.”
Am?lie pulls the blade from his throat and watches as he drops lifelessly to the ground. She says something in French before spitting in the dead Senator’s face. “What did she say?” I inquire, wishing I’d learned French alongside the five other languages I speak fluently.
“Pigs deserve to be gutted,” Sebastian replies, and I quirk a brow.
“Indeed they do,” I mumble, switching screens.
Henri has Samantha tied and kneeling as he fucks her face. Not ready to lose my dinner, I bring up another screen. Senator
Baker and Brian are screwing a girl in a bunny mask. The gag in her mouth muffles her screams. “On three,” Matthew orders. Seconds later, they pull from her and spray their load on her face.
“Where are the guys? Bring them up,” Sebastian requests.
I bring up three feeds. Karl is waiting in the room next to Brian and Senator Baker. August is chasing Isabella toward King and his men. When Rowan appears on screen, he’s holding a bat. His arm rears back before he swings forward into the head of the other Senator, knocking him off the man he’s thrusting into. Teeth fly, and blood sprays as Senator Wheelan shrieks in pain. That’s when I get a better look at the other guy.
“Holy shit, was Troy fucking a corpse?”
“Doubt it matters now since he’s one himself,” I joke.
Massaging his forehead, Sebastian tries but fails to remain serious. “Bring up August again.”
When he reappears on the monitor, August is still methodically forcing Isabella to head exactly where we need her to be to accomplish this part of the plan. “Leave me the hell alone. Do you know who the fuck my dad is?” she spits, yelling over her shoulder. Isabella tossed her stilettos before she left the lounge area. Now, she is running barefoot in one of those shiny jumpsuits that make her look like Catwoman or a Domme.
“Where’s the fun in that, Isabella?” August taunts her in his Ghostface mask. “I’d run faster unless you want your night to end here.” August watches her double her speed and take off down the corridor. He pauses, giving her more time to get away. Once she disappears, August turns, lifts his mask, and winks at the camera.
“Remind me to smack him in the back of the head later,” I mumble, rolling my eyes as I delete all traces of his identity from the servers. “Idiot never remembers the rules when he’s in character like this.”
Switching angles, the feed changes-the cameras follow each forced turn Isabella makes. “Isabella. Come on, I only want to tell you a secret,” August teases-his distorted voice echoes off the walls. Mascara-filled tears stream in rivulets down her flustered face. I snap a picture and then text it to Matthieu. I’m sure he’ll use this later. As much as he claims this is for revenge, I’ve seen the way he drank her in. He’ll use this to jerk off to, I’m sure.
“We’re ready. Is Operation Fledgling still a go?” King verifies.
Matthieu’s voice comes over the comms. “Get her out of there. Baker is looking for her, and he’s closing in quickly.”
“Wy. Hang back. Isabella is about to find the door leading to King. We need you to hold off Senator Baker,” I command.
“My fucking pleasure,” he growls.
Baker turns down the hallway where August is goading Isabella. He lifts his hand and stares down at his watch. “Where the hell is she going?” he mutters before making a left.
“He’s got a tracking chip in her somewhere,” Sebastian announces.
“Not a problem,” King replies.
Isabella stops short of slamming into the wall. She spins until her gaze lands on the door. Licking her lips, she bends over, trying to catch her breath. “Where the hell are you, you stupid cunt?” Senator Baker barks. He’s a turn away from August, but he is so loud that Isabella shoots up. Her back is ramrod straight as she surveys the area around her.
“You can do this, Izzy.” She hesitates before slowly inching forward.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself so far, Isabella, because it will be the last time you’ll ever experience it,” the Senator croons, grabbing his dick through his pants.
My eyes volley between screens, watching in rapt attention as Senator Baker finally reaches August, and Isabella urges herself to find the courage to move.
“You’ve stopped moving, Bella. I’m going to enjoy fucking your sweet pussy as I slice you open,” Baker shouts as he passes August. He takes two steps before August springs forward, wrapping his arm around the Senator’s throat.
August locks in his hold, gripping his forearm to apply more pressure. Then he steps back, using the Senator’s flailing as leverage. Baker scratches at the padding on August’s shirt.
“Let me fucking go.” Isabella’s screams pull my attention to the monitor where King is placing a black bag over her head. Isabella fights, her arms swinging wildly, but it’s too late. King bites the cap off a syringe and effortlessly pushes it into her neck. Seconds later, she falls limp in his hold.
My attention reverts to the monitor August’s on in time to witness the last of the Senator’s struggle. “Night night, bitch,” August snaps, releasing him to drop with a thud to the floor. August wastes no time lifting his leg and stomping on Baker’s still very erect dick. Then he leans over and grips the unconscious fucker by his hair. “Your reign is about to end,” August seethes, rearing back and punching Senator Baker in the face.
“That’s enough,” I order. “We can’t kill him, Wy.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.