Pretty Sinner (The Oligarchs) - Page 45

I hated it.

I tried to tell myself that their affection was disgusting. I pretended like he made my plan to murder her that much more difficult, especially since he was constantly watching over her.

I knew that wasn’t true.

I missed my friend. I was jealous of their relationship. For the first time in my life, I had someone I could spend time with, someone I could get close to. Maybe there were complicated feelings mixed up in all that—I couldn’t pretend like there weren’t. Penny was beautiful, and I felt things for her I never guessed I would.

But we were platonic friends and that was all we’d ever be.

She had Kaspar now, and she didn’t need me.

“All right, fine. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Might be late.”

“Won’t matter. I’ll be in the library until at least midnight.”

She chewed on her lip. “I know I’ve been going out with him a lot these last couple weeks. Do you want to do something tomorrow?”

“Seriously, Penny, I’m happy for you.”

She forced a smile. “Tomorrow. Me and you. We’ll go see a movie or something.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you want.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“All right, okay, we’ll see a movie tomorrow.” I smiled and felt a flutter in my stomach. “I’m getting out of here. Have a fun on your date or whatever you’re doing.”

She flushed like I’d said something wrong, but I didn’t call her on it. She was too transparent sometimes. I almost wished she’d learned how to cover her emotions—I could read her, and I found it addicting. I wanted to push her buttons and tease her just to get a response, but that wasn’t healthy—it wasn’t what friends did to each other. I grabbed my books, my backpack, laptop and phone, and got the hell out of there.

I didn’t follow them anymore. Not since Kaspar caught me. It’d only make things more complicated if I tried to trail them every day, and eventually she’d catch on. I couldn’t risk her knowing anything was wrong.

I found a quiet spot in the library and brooded.

I didn’t have a test. I just didn’t want her to know I was a pathetic loser with no other friends and no other plans. While she ran around campus with her popular, charming, gorgeous boyfriend, I was slinking around planning different ways to murder her.

Funny how life can be sometimes.

The fucked up thing was, it shouldn’t have mattered what she thought of me. I wanted to drive a knife into her chest over and over again until her heart stopped beating. If she thought I was a weirdo, that had no bearing whatsoever on my mission. I could murder someone that hated me just as easily as someone that liked me.

Or so I thought.

I was wrong.

Because as the days passed and I spent more and more time living with her, eating with her, laughing and gossiping with her, I realized I considered her more as a friend than as a target.

And that was very bad.

My job was to kill her. That was my whole reason for being at Blackwoods. I didn’t need a college education; Maeve would give me anything I wanted. My future was in her service, and I could do so much more for this world working closely with my patron.

All I had to do was prove myself. All I needed was to kill Penny.

And yet I didn’t. Each night we went to sleep six feet from each other, and each night I thought about rolling over and cutting her throat. Then the morning would come and we’d go to class, smiling and laughing together, and I’d hate myself. Loathing crept along my spine, disgust and hate lodged itself in my guts.

I was weak. I was pathetic.

I had to kill her. I had to do it.

I didn’t last long in the library. A study group nearby spoke in hushed whispers and their occasional laughter drove me wild.

I wanted that. I craved friends my own age. They were normal—all they worried about were grades and parties and whatever else.

While I slunk around in the shadows, dreaming of blood.

I headed back to the dorm. I’d lasted an hour, which was good enough. I’d put on an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stare at my laptop screen until I passed out. Penny would be home late and she wouldn’t wake me.

She was kind and considerate and lovely.

I reached our door and fumbled with my key. I hesitated, frowning.

There was noise coming from inside.

Music. Rhythmic hip-hop. Loud enough to bleed outside. I didn’t recognize it, but I never recognized the new stuff.

I pressed my ear to the wood. Behind the music, some muffled sounds. Movement, something thumping.

And a moan.

I reared back.

What the fuck?

They were inside. They were having sex.

I stared at the lock.

I could’ve walked away. Should’ve left them alone and given them privacy.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Billionaire Romance
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