“I assume you draining my money was because you wanted to talk to me and calling me on the phone wouldn’t work.”
I stare up at the camera in my bedroom, talking directly to Langston.
“Meet me in the hotel bar in fifteen minutes.”
I walk into the bathroom to change out of the professional-looking jacket and skirt and into something that will work to my advantage. I take my time changing into a tight black dress with lace at the hem and the neckline. I apply a dark line of eyeliner, sweep a darker shade of eyeshadow across my lids, and then pull a scarlet red lipstick out to paint my lips.
I strut out of the bathroom and fluff my hair as my eyes meet the corner of the bedroom again.
“Make me disappear,” I whisper. Then I walk out of my apartment, knowing Langston will ensure that Maxwell thinks I’m still safely inside my apartment.
8
Langston
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.
Liesel struts into the hotel bar exactly fifteen minutes after speaking at me via the security camera in her apartment.
Her dress screams sex. It’s black with lace and fits her like a second layer of skin. Her eyes are a darker shade than she usually wears, making her irises pop. Her red lipstick taunts me. As much as I want her lips pressed against mine, or better yet wrapped around my cock, that won’t be happening. Liesel is far too pissed to let me touch her.
Even though I’m bigger, stronger, more skilled—the look in her eyes lets me know that right now, she’d win in a fight. I have to tread carefully with her.
She walks straight to the bar and sits down in the barstool next to me, her eyes never leaving mine.
“You found me. I’m impressed. I wasn’t sure you still had it in you, huntress.”
She growls. “I’ve always been the better hunter. I know you know I found you that day in your hotel room. You were hiding in the damn ceiling. The only reason I didn’t climb up there and yank you out was that I came up with a better plan.”
“You’re welcome,” I say when she finishes ranting.
She turns to face me with red eyes and flushed cheeks. “You’re welcome? Are you serious? You have ruined my life more times than I can count.”
I grin. Good, I need to ruin every aspect of her life. I need every tiny thing of hers I can get my hands on before I eventually kill her. I need that to live with what she did.
“You’re welcome that I ensured Maxwell didn’t see you leave. You don’t have to worry about what to tell him.”
She flags down the bartender with her finger. “What can I get you?” the bartender with a trimmed gray beard and piercing blue eyes asks.
“Your most expensive scotch, and put it on his tab.”
He nods at her with a smile and then goes to make her drink.
She ordered the exact same thing I already ordered myself.
One minute later, he slides two glasses of scotch neat in front of us.
“Thank you,” Liesel smiles at him as she takes her drink, purposefully letting her hand slide against his.
He winks back, and I suspect he’ll leave his number with her by the end of the night.
“So, you like the older types?” I ask.
Liesel rolls her eyes and takes a drink. “I didn’t come here so we can talk about the kind of men I find attractive. I came here to tell you to stop stealing from me.” Her voice drops in revenge and pent up frustration. Her fingers tighten around the glass as her rage with me consumes her.
“Did I steal something?” I lean back in my chair, keeping my eyes on hers instead of letting myself explore every inch of her body. I have to have discipline. I have to focus on my mission.
“Don’t play dumb. You stole every penny I had.”
I purse my lips. “Oh, right. I did do that. But I wouldn’t call it stealing.”
“What would you call it?”
“I’d call it taking what I’m owed.”
“You’re a self-serving demon. What gives you the right to take anything from me?”
You have no idea just how much of a right I have to that money, huntress.
“You seemed to lack motivation. Taking days, months, years of your life from you wasn’t working, so I took the one thing that every human responds to—money.”
“You think by taking my money, I’ll be forced to tell you the truth? I think you’ve forgotten everything I’ve gone through. How poor I used to be. How much of a survivor I am. I built everything I have from nothing, and I can do it again.”
“Or you can marry that rich fiancé of yours.”
“Husband,” she says firmly.
I pull out my phone and open my browser to the announcement before sliding the phone on the oak counter in front of her.
“Liar,” I whisper, cutting through the noisy bar with the single word.
Liesel freezes as she realizes she’s caught in a lie.
“That little liar,” she says.
“That would be you.”
She slides the phone back across the bar, her frustration apparent.
My reflexes kick in, and I catch my phone before it slides off the bar.
She’s glaring at the phone, not at me. I’m completely lost.
“Who’s the liar?” I ask.
“No one.”
“The correct answer is you—you’re the liar.”
“Fine, I lied, but so did you.”
“I’m not the one caught in a lie. And I’m not the one who has to tell the truth in order to live—that would be you.”
“Just kill me and get it over with. I’m tired of your damn games. Nothing you do will make me tell you the truth. I will go to my grave hiding my half of the letter.”
“Well, you have six months left to decide.”
“Six months? You took off four months for one little lie?”
“One big lie.”
She downs the rest of her drink, and that’s when I know that I’m getting to her. It bothers her that I’m willing to kill her.
“Whatever,” she says. She pulls her own phone out and starts scrolling through news articles about her engagement announcement in frustration. It’s then that I realize she hadn’t agreed to the announcement. Waylon did this without her consent.
I suspected all along that Waylon isn’t a good person. There is something he’s hiding. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll figure it out long before Liesel does. I may want her dead, but I want to be the one to inflict pain. I don’t want Waylon to beat me to it.
“I wouldn’t trust Waylon if I were you.”
“I trust him more than I trust you.”
“He didn’t even have your agreement before announcing your engagement. Sounds pretty untrustworthy to me.”
“At least he hasn’t threatened to kill me. He doesn’t try to control me, unlike you.”
I lean in close, getting a whiff of her sweet perfume. It’s intoxicating, but I won’t let it affect me.
“But does he love you?”
Her eyes narrow, her pulse races, her body stills. “He loves me more than you will ever love anyone.”
“Maybe so, but I wouldn’t call that love. He’s just as controlling as I am. He announced your wedding without you. He made you sign a prenup. And you can’t even tell him about me. It doesn’t sound like true love to me.”