The drive took less than ten minutes, but the gated entrance was a setback. Using extreme caution, she parked the car out of sight and made certain she had enough ammunition. After checking her mirrors, she rolled her eyes before leaving left her vehicle. The last thing she needed was to have the police called. Walking the perimeter, she was unable to catch even a glimpse of the house, but she was aware from the internet pictures that there was a back entrance. She headed toward the side, scooting between the tall hedges and the brick wall surrounding the property.
Every step she took was with caution, her gun in her hand. When she reached the rear, she could see how the wall sloped down. The back gate was locked. The only concept was to make it over the wall. Very carefully, she managed to crawl on top, thestone uneven in several places and allowing for secure footing. She eased over, dropping to the ground and waiting. Listening. There were no telltale signs, no barking dogs or flashing lights. She’d maneuvered the wall without being detected.
Sophia kept low to the ground as she moved through the pristine landscaping, seeing a shimmering illumination just up ahead. She remained in the shadows as she shifted a flowering shrub, the fragrance filling her nostrils. The estate had been built for the wealthy, the privileged and beautiful people, those who could easily afford Ferraris. She chuckled at the thought. This was a perfect house for Wrath, modern with flair.
The gun firmly planted in her hand, she inched closer to the pool. The lights emitted from under the water along with the gushing waterfall suggested the home had been prepared for a new arrival. Everything appeared magical, a breathtaking view of just how the rest of the world lived. Colorful umbrellas adorned the decking, tables and lounge chairs positioned just so, lined up in an organized fashion. The light wind allowed the scent of every stunning tropical arrangement, flowering shrubs and flowers adorning several huge clay pots to waft across her nose. What an incredible place.
She could see no signs of anyone having been outside, at least recently. There were no water stains, no leftover drink glasses or ashtrays. Her steps slow and deliberate, she made her way to the expansive floor-to-ceiling doors flanking the entire back. She darted her head around the first pillar, trying to gather a look inside. From what she was able to see, the only internal lights were those of some form of nightlights. She tried the first door.
Locked.
The second was also locked. There was no doubt an extensive alarm system, but at least she could gather the layout and find the most secure areas, those in which she could hide then wait. The thought was beginning to sound ridiculous. How did she even know that Harry was telling her the truth? The kid was a junkie, for Christ’s sake. Undaunted, she shoved a strand of hair behind her ear and inched forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slight flutter. Her gun in position, she hunkered down until she realized what she was seeing.
A light sheer drape was blowing through what appeared to be a crack in the door. Immediately she moved further into the shadows. Would a real estate agent or caretaker be this careless? An odd feeling formed in her stomach, her instinct on high alert. Something about this didn’t feel right. Not on any level. Sweeping the entire area with her eyes, she held her breath as she thought about the best course of action. A crime in progress? There were far too many questions.
While her gut told her to move back to her car, immediately calling this in, she decided otherwise. This could garner her a suspension, if not termination, but if she wanted to catch Wrath Constantino, rigorous and entirely different methods were going to have to be used. Every step with precision, she moved closer to the door, listening again. Nothing had changed.
She placed her hand on the edge, pushing. When the rollers creaked, sticking, she cringed and held back. A few seconds later she tried again, opening just enough to be able to slip inside. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she followed protocol as she walked around the perimeter. There were no outward signs of recent activity.
Noticing a set of stairs, she used caution as she advanced, step after step, her eyes constantly moving. Her nerves were on edge,her palms sweating as she gripped the cold steel of her gun. Everything about this screamed of a setup, but who could have gotten to Harry? Her CI had clandestine ties at best to the FBI, let alone to her as the handler. For anyone to have found out meant…
Her hackles raised, she stopped on the landing, blinking in order to focus. The staircase had led to what appeared to be the main floor. Only the light of the moon streaming in through the wall-to-wall windows highlighted the interior. The living room was empty, but she gathered a scent, a fragrance that she couldn’t place. Where was this coming from? She stood in the middle of the room, turning in a full circle, identifying areas of the house.
The kitchen. The scent had to be coming from the kitchen. The almost sickeningly sweet combination of flowers gave her chills. Lavender and roses. She held her breath as she walked in the direction of the fragrance. The gleaming appliances and austere environment made the room seem cold, uninviting given the shadows created by the moon. A slight ticking noise drew her attention and while she knew the source, the refrigerator, she took a deep breath, the sound rattled. A few steps in and she froze.
A candle was lit, sitting smack in the middle of the island. From where she stood, the flickering flame gave an ominous appearance to the entire space. Sophia was terrified, goosebumps popping along her arms. A quick wipe of perspiration from her brow and she inched along the far counter, creeping closer until she was only a foot away from the candle. There was a note, the writing bold and beautifully written. Another step and she had the note in her hand.
No.No!Her fingers numb, the thin paper slipped out of her hands, fluttering to the counter in slow motion. The words, her words were staring back at her.
Submission…
The word lingers in my mouth, creating tingles dancing throughout my body.
She backed away, taking short and calculated steps. Every concept she’d learned and all the training she’d had forced her into a difficult understanding.
She’d been played.
Again.
Every portion of her body quivered, her pussy clenching even as a rush of blinding rage entered her system. She hated the man, longed to see him dead. Then why had her body betrayed her for the nth time, driving her into a state of madness? She kept her finger on the trigger, her mind reeling. “Clever.”
“We meet again,” he chuckled. “I’m no more clever than you are, sweetheart. You’ve been on a vendetta to hunt me down for months.”
The masculine voice was deep, the sensual baritone floating all around her. Sophia spun around, aiming the gun at chest level. “What. The. Hell.” He was in the shadows, the perpetrator, the man who’d purposely led her here. And there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind who he was.
Wrath.
He’d found her blog. He’d located her CI. He’d secured private information about her.
“I suggest you come out with your hands up,” she stated, keeping the tremor out of her voice.
The brusque chuckle sent shivers down her spine. He took two steps, inching closer yet keeping his face hidden by the darkness. “I don’t really think you want to kill me, Sophia. In fact, I believe you’re curious about me, just as you were before.”
“Curious about a cold-blooded murderer killing innocent people? Only in the sense of how to capture you. Let me see your hands.” Her entire body was rigid, her heart racing.
“Innocent? That’s where you’re wrong. There were distinct reasons for every one of the people I killed. They were all monsters.”
“You have to be out of your mind,” she huffed.
