Vicious Lies (Lies 1)

I shake my head in disbelief as I set the glass down on the desk, making sure not to use a coaster so a ring will form on the ridiculously ugly desk. That’s what he gets for trying to trick people into thinking they are drinking expensive liquor when I doubt he paid more than fifty bucks for that shit.

My patience is w

aning when I finally hear the front door open.

“This condo is amazing,” the woman with him says, shouting too loudly and giving this condo way too much credit. The condo is a mass-produced, overpriced box.

“Not as amazing as you are,” he says back.

I roll my eyes at the ridiculous line. But it’s not going to take much to impress this woman. She’s drunk and clearly impressed with what she perceives as his wealth. She doesn’t know real wealth. She doesn’t know that real money is passed through generations and earned by spilling blood of others.

This man is barely a millionaire. He doesn’t have the billions that flow through the Black empire, my employer.

My plan was to wait in the office for him to come to me. He works in security. He should easily realize that his security system was turned off already when he came in. I purposefully scuffed my shoes along his rug until the corner lifted, and turned the frame crooked on the wall in the office hallway.

He should know I’m here within minutes.

If this were my home, I would know the second the alarm was turned off.

So I try to remain patient and let him come to me. But, again, I’m not patient. From the moaning and groaning floating down the hallway, it doesn’t seem like he is paying attention to any of the clues I left for him.

I open the office door and walk down the hallway, not hiding the sound of my footsteps. I walk toward the living room where I find them making out on the couch like horny teenagers. The kisses are sloppy, and from the way he’s manhandling the poor woman, there is no way she’s going to get off tonight from him.

I step into the light, but he still doesn’t notice me. However, the woman’s eyes shoot up to me. She shrieks out of surprise, but then her eyes are running up my body appreciatively. She’d rather I be fucking her than the schmuck she’s straddling.

“Get up,” I say calmly and firmly, keeping the anger I feel out of my voice.

The woman scampers off, listening obediently. The man only slowly turns his head.

“I said. Get. Up.”

He swallows, and I know the options he’s considering in his head. But he’s an amateur, and I’m a skilled assassin.

He reaches for his gun, but I grab it, empty the magazine, and toss it to the floor.

His eyes grow big, his pupils dilate, his pulse beats rapidly in his throat as the fear spreads. He’s defenseless. He has nothing to match my skill. Basically, he’s my bitch, and he knows it.

His bottom lip trembles as he considers his next words, but none come out. I’m surprised the man hasn’t pissed himself yet.

“Who are you?” the woman asks, licking her bottom lip. Apparently, I’m not scary enough to her. She thinks she can seduce me with her good looks. But she’s as fake as this apartment—her curves don’t come naturally. Neither does her bleach blonde hair or her pointed fingernails.

I turn my attention to her. My heated gaze ponders all the ways I could fuck her. She might be good in bed, but there are a million reasons I won’t fuck her. The main one being that I’m in love with another woman.

“Go to the bedroom,” I say to her.

Her smile curves up, revealing her wine-stained teeth and lips. Her breath catches as I stare at her before she obediently walks toward the bedroom.

With her gone, I can focus on my main task.

“What—what do you want?” the man asks, his voice trembling as he speaks. He knows exactly what I want.

I take my time strolling around the sofa between us as I casually sit in the single chair facing him, acting like I’m about to negotiate with him. There is no way that’s going to happen, though. I’m in control, not him, and I know exactly how his story ends.

“I—I have money. You can have whatever you want.”

“I don’t want your money.”

I adjust my watch, completely bored with this conversation, this task, this world.