Page 2 of Lord of Pain
"I need to hire you for a hit," she blurts. Her eyes widen, as if this is the first time she's said it out loud. "I recognize that you don't often do work outside your family's interests," she hurries on, "but I can make it worth your time."
That startles me into a boisterous laugh.
"Shh!" she whispers, her gaze darting to the French doors, slightly open.
"You want to hire me to kill someone," I clarify, enunciating slowly.
"Yes." She nods firmly. "I've done my homework. You're extremely powerful in those kinds of circles, and they say you have never missed a target. That's why I need you."
Staring at her, I track the lines of her face, her high cheekbones, her golden brown eyes, and recognition flares.
"Hey!" Her hands fly up, trying to hold onto the blonde wig as I pull it off her head. Long, chestnut-colored hair tumbles over her shoulders.
"I've seen you around. Violet Monroe, correct?" Tugging on a lock of her hair, I grin as she slaps my hand away. "You should be bidding on some expensive piece of crap in there, not waiting tables. What are you up to?"
"Nobody pays attention to the waitstaff," she says matter-of-factly. "I can't let anyone see me talking to you in public. You know what gossips these people are. And I'm not going to yoursex clubto find you. I knew you'd be here tonight and this was my chance."
Laughter spills from the half-open French door on the terrace, and she groans softly as another couple walks out of the ballroom, heading for the garden.
"This is neither the time or place for such a discussion," I say sternly.
"I needed to meet you. Here's my number." She tries to hand me a card, slipping it in my pocket when I don't take it. "Look,my family's safety depends on you. I know that sounds overly dramatic, but I'm deadly serious."
"Yeah, very serious," I agree, "almost humorless, in fact. You don't look like you've cracked a genuine smile since infancy."
Her pretty mouth drops open in outrage. "I can be funny!" Violet says defensively. "This isn't exactly a conversation that inspires knock-knock jokes. I'm trying to get you to kill someone."
"Point taken," I allow, stepping back from her.
"Wait!" She reaches out one hand, pale in the moonlight, lightly touching my arm. "Promise me you'll call. Promise. I know you don't go back on your word."
"You're placing a lot of faith in my reputation." I straighten my tux jacket. "But just for the hell of it, I'll be in contact."
Violet's face lights up with relief and she whispers, "Thank you!" She steps back into the coverage of the clustered trees, disappearing gracefully as the couple wanders closer to us.
"And here I thought I'd be going home with a trip to St. Bart's and some ugly piece of sculpture that Mother insisted on buying for me," I muse.
Laughing, I pass the confused couple, nodding politely as I head back inside.
Chapter Two
In which there are late nights, Sabrina Carpenter, and unwelcome visitors.
Violet…
It's 2 AM by the time I make my way back home from my undercover mission at the fundraiser. My hands start shaking halfway over the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge as my burst of adrenaline fades.
I asked Roman Morozov to kill my stepfather.
I said those words out loud to another human being and his expression never changed, as if people ask him this every day and as far as I know, they probably do.
There's no other way. I've begged and pleaded with my mother, Poppy. I've tried to negotiate with Jack, that douchebag, and he still thinks that the lives of my sisters and mine are his to wheel and deal with, to trade away for a promotion and a corner office. I'm pretty confident in my ability to fight my way loose from anything, but my sisters, Rose and Iris, are only eighteen. They're fresh out of St. Mary's parochial school. They're so sheltered, and not ready for this kind of world.
I can hear music blasting halfway down the hall from my apartment and I groan. The girls are here. Lou in 3C pulls open his door across the hall, glaring at me.
"I see the twins are back," he snaps. "I haven't gotten a fucking minute's sleep and I have to work in the morning!"
"Lou," I wave my hands appeasingly. "So sorry, I'll bring cookies over later, okay? I feel terrible."
