CHAPTER 1
Darkness…
Foreboding to some. To him, the ominous shadows were comforting, allowing him complete anonymity in order to perform the jobs he’d been paid well to execute. Tonight was no exception and he was exhilarated, adrenaline flowing. He craved the chase, the moment when he locked onto his target. Every assignment was unusual. Different countries. Powerful individuals. Beautiful women. Incredible food and drink. His skills allowed for careful selection, the very reason he was still alive.
Even though there were strict requirements.
He moved through the darkness, finding the house with ease. The mark had evidently caught wind there was a contract on his life, leaving his usual environment in utter disarray. And somehow, the man thought he’d remain safe in the countryside, a little house in the woods that no one was supposed to know about. Snickering, he eased the gun from his jacket, adding the silencer as he headed toward the rear, all the while scanning theperimeter. Surprises he didn’t need. At least the fucker would be alone, an easy target.
The entire back of the house was full of windows, the massive set of sliding doors peering out onto a lush garden. There were no other houses in close proximity, another perk of this particular job. He inched closer, able to see the mark sitting in an overstuffed chair directly in front of a roaring fire.
Like taking candy from a baby.
He moved into the most optimal position, holding the weapon in both hands. A split second before he pulled the trigger, he jerked back, cursing under his breath. The man was supposed to be alone.Fuck!He shoved the gun back into his pocket and headed straight through the woods toward the awaiting vehicle. Yanking out his phone, he studied the reception. Just enough. The call was answered within two rings.
“Yes?”
“Mission aborted,” he half whispered as he opened the driver’s door.
There was a long pause.
“Why?”
“I have my reasons. To be completed at a later time.” Ending the call, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He was a cold-blooded killer but even he had his scruples, no matter what the blessed consortium required of him.
He would never complete a contract in front of a child.
Monte Carlo
Eight days later
“Do you know what I want?” she purred as she slipped first one then her other arm around Wrath’s neck, her red lips glistening even in the shadowed light.
Ricardo ‘Wrath’ Constantino had been with many women over the years, devouring several varieties, but French girls were usually far more discerning about their tastes in men. Cherry certainly didn’t seem to understand that if she accepted several drinks then invited a killer to her condo she could face the ultimate demise. Granted, she wasn’t his target, nor would she know of his profession. However, the irony was delightful. “Now, what could that possibly be?” he asked as he brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek.
“I love your commanding manner. So sexy.” Cherry clung to him, her eyes holding the haze of intoxication. “I hunger for a taste of that hard body of yours.” She kissed his lips, darting out her tongue and dragging the tip across the seam of his mouth.
He allowed her to toy with him, teasing as she slid one hand down his chest. Sadly, he’d grown bored of the evening. Even winning at Blackjack didn’t have any effect on his sour mood. What did entice him was the gorgeous redhead sitting at another Blackjack table, the scarlet dress the perfect complement to her stunning long legs and hourglass figure. He was hungry, having played the perfect gentleman during his time spent in the amazing city.
What he could easily see was that she was an expert at a slight of hand, kiting the system. He was amused as well as aroused by her brazen attempt at winning. If she was caught, the punishment would be extremely harsh.
“Cherry, you are a lovely woman, but I believe I see someone I know. An unexpected surprise. I’m certain you can understand.”
Pouting her ruby-stained lips, she lifted a single eyebrow, her index finger sliding back and forth across his Adam’s apple. When she knew he was serious, she huffed. “Merde. Fine. Have it your way, but you’re missing out.”
He waited until she walked away, flipping him her middle finger in frustration, her next set of words spoken with a nasty tone. “Je m’en fous!”
She’d consumed one too many glasses of champagne. She didn’t give a fuck, eh? Well, then neither would he.
Wrath studied the lovely redhead at the other table as she worked, taking her time and winning only small bets. Even the card dealer, a trained expert, seemed to have no idea about her exceptional skills. He took a sip of his bourbon, debating exactly what to do. His cock ached, throbbing against his tuxedo pants, a clear sign that he needed to meet her. Few women had any effect on him, fewer still holding his interest for even this long.
After she won yet another hand, he polished off his drink and moved in the direction of the table, taking the last spot, which happened to be on her left. He acknowledged the players, waiting to greet her last. “Madame.” His French accent was one that the majority of women found endearing. He had a feeling this woman couldn’t care less simply by her caustic body language.
“Miss.” She gave him a once-over as the dealer positioned the new cards, yawning after a few seconds.
His amusement turned into raging hunger, his balls tightening.
“Fascinating,” he whispered so only she could hear.
