Chapter 1
ThiswaswhatIhated about the super-rich. Everything was glittering, glowing, and gaudy. They had a knack for turning a regular fantasy hotel into a wonderland of posh, expensive, and extravagant affairs.
As soon as I entered the room, my eyes flickered at how bright it was from the dark sky outside. The only positive was that the dress I was wearing was smooth and silky, dripping in luxurious handcrafted silk that caressed and molded to my body in perfection. There was always something to appreciate about a bad situation. That was the first hard lesson I learned in my life.
A hard voice crackled in my ear, “Have you clocked the target, Songbird?”
I picked up my phone and put it against my ear. I rolled my eyes, acting like the spoiled princess I was pretending to be. “No, Daddy. For the last time, I'm not going to marry Don Van Hinderbelt!”
I heard a pause in my ear as my supervisor, Glen, took a long hard breath. “I hate when you made me the dad.”
I resisted the smile that quivered on my lips at his exasperation. “Fine, Daddy! Be like that. I will find a husband tonight. Someone who’s even richer than you! Then you won't be able to hold your money over me anymore.” I pretended to hang up the phone, shoving it in my tiny purse like I was really put out. A waiter came by with a whole tray of champagne, and I immediately snagged one and lifted it to my lips. This was another positive thing about rich people, they had the best booze.
“No, Daddy! Don't let my sister marry some rich guy. Spreading her delicious thighs for some idiot with a Bugatti!” I almost spit out my fancy champagne at Ken’s proclamation.
I heard a smack on the back of a head before Glen’s angry voice whispered, “Delicious thighs?! Get your head on straight, Ken!”
“Ouch! I was just adding to the scene Celine already played out. It's all a joke, Boss. Something to lighten the heavy situation.” Ken's shocked, hurt voice came in through the earpiece, and I had the sudden urge to back him up. He was just playing around, and my thighs are damn delicious. It's just because Glen is like a father to me that he gets really irritated when the guys act like guys on a job.
“Let’s just keep this professional.” Glen's serious and calm voice came back. I bet Ken was regretting being in that van down the street with Glen next to him.
I turned my attention away from the squabbling men and looked back at the dazzling crowd for my target. I was sent in here tonight for one man and one man only, Marcus Rodriguez. He was the leader of the Rodriguez clan, a cartel family that ran all the drugs from Mexico into the United States. Normally, this would not even be on my radar, as the Rodriguez family were all human. Still, since they only hired and worked with supernatural beings, the file landed on Glen’s desk since he was the head of the Supernatural Task Force for the CIA.
Most supernatural beings had a leader to take care of the problem beings. The wolves had an Alpha, the mages had an Archmage, the vampires had a coven of leaders, etc. So when a supernatural being breaks the law, we are the ones to bring it up to the leaders. Sometimes they handled it, especially if they knew the perpetrator, but sometimes they asked us to…handle it. To get rid of the problem so their hands didn't get dirty. We took the jobs that no one wanted to mess with, which made it a little deadly.
I started to walk the perimeter, trying to find my prey for the night. The smell of Chanel No 5 wafted up my nostrils, and I held in my gag. I don't know why rich people always wore that shit, it didn't smell good, but I guess when you had money flowing out of all your orifices, it didn't really matter.
“Come on. It didn't mess her up in the slightest. She's the best assassin on the team. She can take a little joking on the job.” Kens screeching voice distracted me for a second, wanting to thank him for that compliment until he continued with, “She drops bodies in the most uninteresting, clean way possible.” That declaration slightly offended me, but I was on the job, so I would make him pay for that little comment later. Little shit.
I passed a large 3D sculpture of a new hospital building that was going to be built in the Rodriguez name. That's what this event was about, a fundraiser to raise more money for the hospital the drug-running family had purchased. My guess was it was going to be a location they could run more drugs out of, or maybe it was going to be a drop-off station, or possibly it could be them trying to distract people away from the shady part of their businesses.
I finally made my way around the room to the front and saw a large gathering of people surrounding a tall man in an expensive suit with dark, medium-length hair, the kind you could run your hands through, and taut tan skin that let you know he had seen sun recently. He was an incredibly handsome man, and he was Marco Rodriguez. I looked at the people around him and noticed a few vampires, a mage, a shifter, and a few humans listening to him, trying to get his attention. I wasn't going to be able to talk to him that way, so I decided I needed to make him look my way. Turn on my siren eyes and call him to me.
“Got 'em,” I said in a low voice before I pretended to put my hair behind my ear and took out the com, slipping it into my tiny purse as I pretended to look for lipstick. I just needed to do something to catch his eye.
Another waiter with a tray of champagne walked by, and I got an idea. I quickly sipped the rest of my flute as I watched the waiters, waiting for the right one. I caught the eyes of one carrying a tray of empty glasses my way and knew this was my shot. I lifted my hand, and the waiter stopped in front of me. I pushed a little too hard, knocking a few into each other, and causing the glass flutes to fall off the tray and onto the floor with a crash.
I felt bad when I played my part of the obnoxious heiress. “Oh, my god! If any of those shards cut me or this dress, you will pay for it.”
The waiter apologized several times before they went to find a broom to clean up the mess. I looked up at Marco and caught him looking at me. Perfect. I blinked, turning on my siren eyes, calling him to me with just my body language.
Being a siren was handy in these kinds of situations. I could turn on the charm in an instant. Flashing my ocean, color-changing magic eyes on any being, and suddenly become alluring and irresistible. The magic called to the person I captured, pulling them to me like an invisible thread. Marco blinked a few times before he turned to his crowd and excused himself, heading my way.
I looked down, fussing with my dress, as a large shadow fell on me. I looked up, making sure I had large doe eyes that men were typically drawn to. His deep, confident voice called out, “I hope that he didn't ruin that exquisite dress of yours.”
“I don't think so, but I'm still checking.” I ran my hand down the leg in emphasis, drawing his eyes to the high slit in my dress. His eyes lit up with desire, and I gave him a small, coy smile.
“It would be dreadfully rude of me if I didn't make sure that you weren't completely taken care of since this is my event.” He smiled as he took a step closer into my personal bubble, placing a hand on my shoulder as he motioned towards the back. “Come with me, and we can get to a room where you can check yourself.”
“That is very kind of you, Mr. Rodriguez.” I batted my eyes and followed him, looking at my dress every once in a while to keep up the facade that I thought something might have happened to it.
He put his large, warm hand at the small of my back, guiding me to the back of the room. “Please, call me Marco. Mr. Rodriguez sounds so stuffy.” He smiled, shining his perfect pearly whites at me. And I’ll admit he was attractive, in a slimy he-knew-it kind of way. He was even charming in his own way of being polite and kind about the whole thing. He looked at me brightly while guiding me out the hallway and in front of the elevators. “Let me take you to my room. It's the penthouse at the top and will give you the most privacy to inspect your dress properly.”
I smiled and nodded, acting like I believed the bullshit he was trying to sell, but I didn't. I knew this man had a taste for young and beautiful women. Always sticking his dick into anything that fits the bill, like most rich men. Always looking to use someone but wanting to pretend in front of others that they were a good guy.
“Do you always take damsels in distress up to your room?” I played coy, looking down at the ground, playing into his good guy routine.
“Oh, no. This is a special situation. You are a guest at my event and have, unfortunately, been put in a position where your dress and body could be affected. It's my duty to make sure that you have everything you need to make your night better.” His adamant voice had me raising my eyebrow. He chuckled. “Even if that means buying you a new dress because this one got cut up.”
