“I think this will be an exceptionally good investment. It’s been a long time since I’ve come across a woman with manners and who acknowledges what I give her. I’m taking you to my house to clean up,” then he grabs his phone and sends a text, the driver instantly climbing in behind the wheel.
This is not part of my plan, but I’m not going to say no to being invited into his house. I have to scope it out eventually, so it just makes my work a little easier without having to be so sneaky.
We don’t speak the entire drive, but he won’t shut the fuck up once when we arrive, enjoying showing off all his money and possessions. He takes my arm and guides me up the front steps, leading me into the main room that houses the most pompous works of art I’ve ever seen.
Most are paintings of himself, but there are a few of himself and whom I would assume is his son the further into the house we go. It just makes me want to kill him even more, no one should be that far up their own ass.
We walk through multiple rooms and hallways, and I try hard to remember as much as I can. I need to map the place out on paper when I get home so I can add to my plan of attack.
Once in the bathroom, he points to the sink and a small cupboard.
“Everything you need should be in there. I’ll be in my office, one of the staff will show you where to go when you’re done,” then he turns and leaves me alone, like the stupid idiot that he is.
I quickly clean my face and rinse my mouth out with some mouthwash, glaring at the painting above the toilet of him naked. That's a little weird.
I take my time as I wander back through the house, adding to my mental map and wishing I had my knife on me to get it over with, but too many people know I'm with him, so I have no choice but to wait.
My heels seem to echo through the house on the marble floors, and I slow when I get to the kitchen, finding his son drinking a bottle of water, his throat working as he swallows. He's only in a pair of shorts, and my eyes linger on his tattoo covered abs before I look up at his face.
He works out, that's for sure.
He finally glances over at me, his eyes widening in surprise at the company before his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow.
“Who the fuck are you?” He growls, reminding me that this ab god is just a junior version of his asshole daddy. I can practically smell the money and arrogance on him.
I give him a bright smile, clasping my hands together in front of me and drawing his attention right to my tits as the leather pulls tighter across them, pushing them further together.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little lost. Do you know where Mr. Walton’s office is? He told me to find him when I was finished in the bathroom,” I ask softly, his gaze snapping back to mine. He takes me in for a second before rolling his eyes.
“Henry’s office is back down the hallway and up the stairs. It’s on the left.” He grunts, turning and stalking out of the room.
“I’m Selene,” I blurt out, making him pause in the doorway. He peers over his shoulder at me, pity underlining his features before he snaps out of it and snorts.
“Good for you, I don’t give a fuck,” then he leaves me standing there without a backwards glance.
His ass is alright, too.
I head back in the direction he told me to go, but someone steps in front of me and blocks my path.
“Mr. Walton had to take a business call and has asked me to show you out.”
No apology, nothing. Typical rich asshole move.
I give him a smile and nod.
“I completely understand, I’d hate to be in his way. Please tell him thank you for the hospitality he gave me,” I beam, wanting to puke at my own voice. I hate my job sometimes because I am not the type to be sweet, let alone grateful.
He nods, motioning behind me to get me to walk, making sure to stay by my side until we reach the door. I’m hoping he’ll at least call me a cab, but the moment I am out the door, it’s shut right behind me, and I’m on my own.
I roll my eyes and walk down the driveway, heading towards home.
His son’s car speeds past me and I snort, not at all surprised that Walton Junior doesn’t offer me a ride.
Zander Walton is a daddy’s boy, and I can’t wait to get to work on him, too.
It’s going to be such a shame to waste something that looks so good, I can’t lie.