Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Stepping out of my Bugatti, I scale the gate, hauling myself over with ease. I drop down onto the manicured lawn before making my way toward the main residence. My gaze shifts across the property, noticing the security system and taking note of the cameras. Hartley has gone hard with his security, and because of that, I won’t be killing him here tonight. But when the time is right, I will take my dagger and slam it deep into his stomach before twisting the knife just right. It’ll be fucking delicious. I can’t wait to hear the pain in his cries.
Knowing the alarm will go off when I try to get through the door, I don’t bother being discreet. Making my way around the side of the property, I find myself standing outside Hartley’s office. My elbow goes straight through the glass before I reach in and unlock it. I open it just enough to pull myself up and through the small gap, dropping down inside his home.
I slowly walk around his office, scanning over his papers as I listen, waiting for him to come down here, gun in hand, trying to bust whoever had the audacity to break into his home. But nothing ever comes. He must not have heard me.
Taking another minute to go through the files on his desk, I find all the usual documents I should expect from a member of The Circle—member files, blackmail, proof of money laundering, but nothing that tells me who the fuck is pulling his strings. I disregard it all and, knowing he’s the type to take it to the grave, I realize there’s only one way to do this.
Striding out of his office, I make my way up the stairs and into his bedroom, finding him sound asleep beside his wife. They don’t touch one another, and a smirk pulls at my lips. Even in sleep, she can’t fucking stand him.
Making my way around to her side, I take my knife and use it to slowly lift the covers, peeling them back so softly she doesn’t even stir. She’s wearing an eye mask and a silk tank and shorts, and I’ve got to give it to Hartley, she’s fine. Definitely the kind of woman I would probably end up with. Someone to stand at my side during Empire events and bear me an heir, but she probably wouldn’t be able to stand me. She’d sleep in another room, and that would be fine with me. As long as she smiles in public. So tell me why the fuck I only see Oakley’s face when I think of what I want for my future?
Shit.
Hartley though, he probably bought this one. Promised her the world if she were to marry him, and probably never followed through. They’re both still quite young. In their mid-thirties, and as far as I’m aware, they don’t have any children.
The tip of my blade settles onto her porcelain skin, and I slowly trail it up and down her waist like a soft caress. As if finally sensing a presence, Hartley’s eyes spring open, and his hand flies across to his bedside table for the gun that rests there. He turns it on me, but I barely pay it any attention. The man is so easy to read. Instead, I keep my gaze locked on his sleeping wife. “She’s pretty,” I murmur into the darkness, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake her.
Hartley sucks in a breath as his eyes adjust to the darkness, taking me in and noticing just how much danger his wife is in. “Get away from her,” he spits, his gaze flicking between me, his wife, and the knife in my hand.
“Wouldn’t it be a shame if you were to lose the one thing that means the most to you?” I mutter, the knife slowly making its way back up over her ribs and reflecting against the soft moonlight streaming through the window. “One puncture is all it would take.”
The gun flinches in his hand. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
I laugh. “You’ve been trying to kill Oakley for weeks. You’ve had every opportunity under the sun to take her out, but you fail every damn time. You think you could even touch me?”
Hartley clenches his jaw, his hands shaking. “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “I would never betray the blood.”
Well, shit. This motherfucker is giving me whiplash. “Which one is it? You’ll kill me if I touch your wife, or you would never betray the blood? You can’t have both. So I suggest you choose wisely.”
Hartley swallows hard, not knowing how to respond, but I don’t need him to. It’s clear as day this asshole is nothing but a spineless cockroach, clinging onto anything he thinks could give him a shred of power. “Just how far would you go for the blood?”