My Name Is Pink: An Age Gap Dark Romance (Morally Questionable, #0.5)

by Veronica Lancet

  No Part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews.

  No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  My Name Is Pink

  (Morally Questionable Book 0.5)

  Copyright© Veronica Lancet 2021

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  My Name Is Pink: An Age Gap Dark Romance (Morally Questionable, #0.5)

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Morally Questionable Series

  My Name Is Pink is the prequel to Morally Corrupt, and it depicts the budding relationship between Theo and Bianca. It ends on a HFN cliffhanger. Please be advised that it contains mature themes and triggers that might upset some readers.

  TRIGGER WARNINGS: sociopathy (ASPD), guns, violence, gore, rough sex, manipulation, dark humor, addiction.

  Prologue

  AGE SIXTEEN,

  "WIPE THE BLOOD OFF your face, kiddo." I turn my head to see Drew, my mentor, looking at me with a frown. He points towards my forehead, right above my eye. Folding the sleeve of my blouse, I dab at my skin, red liquid transferring onto the material.

  "Done?" He nods with a grunt, shifting so he's looking towards the house.

  "You shouldn't be here. You might get caught." He mentions, hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

  "I was curious." I say, and I take a few steps to find a better angle. "I want to see what the fuss is all about with these parties."

  "Like that?" He raises an eyebrow, his eyes traveling down my body with amusement. Having just finished an assignment, I'm in full gear. I'm wearing a full bodysuit in black—black helps mask the blood—with my guns holstered, one on each thigh.

  I shrug. "I just got curious." He shakes his head, knowing fully well that my moods dictate what I do—regardless of the consequences.

  "Satisfy your curiosity quickly and go change. He has important guests tonight. Guests that might take an issue with the blood residue on your clothes."

  I snicker at him and proceed to go even closer to the house. When I'm able to see through the window and right into the ballroom, I stop. I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes as I study the guests. My lip curls in disgust as I see people prancing about like paragons of virtues when I know how corrupt they are. My eyes follow a particular senator I'd heard has a penchant for brutalizing his hookers. My fingers itch as they wrap themselves around the handle of one gun. A click, and the wretch would be gone. I almost go through with it, but something else catches my eye.

  A young man strides in, engaging the senator in conversation. Whatever he's saying to him isn't good, going by the senator's sour expression. He looks absolutely pissed, and with a few huffed words he walks away. That leaves the young man out in the open, and fully available for my perusal–and oh la la, is he fine... He struggles to hide the smirk threatening to overwhelm his features, and I find myself enthralled.

  One more step.

  I'm even closer to the window now, and I know I'm courting danger, my recklessness increasing by the second. But this... this man. I study him further, my eyes following his movements and watching his interactions with the rest of the guests.

  It's odd. I've never noticed a man like this... like my entire body is humming with an unreleased pressure. I'm frustrated, and I know it's because that man isn't here, paying attention to me, touching me. I zone in on him, and the moment he raises his eyes, looking into the distance, my breath hitches. It's like he's looking at me, even though I know he can't see me. But I feel his gaze, the intensity of his eyes, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  "Kiddo, time to go." Drew comments from behind me, but I put my hand up to silence him.

  "What?" He frowns, coming to stand by me. I'm still focused on that wonderful male specimen, and I find that I don't care to divide my attention. "What are you looking at?" He persists, so I say the only thing that's on my mind.

  "Him. I want him." I don't know who he is, but I know one thing.

  He is mine.

  And I'll do whatever it takes to make him mine.

  THEODORE HASTINGS, age twenty-four, and a recent Quantico grad. I'd found out everything about him—on paper. But who are you, Theo?

  Who are you, really?

  I smile to myself as I fold the sheet and place it back in the folder. I remove the photos the P.I. I'd hired had supplied, and I peruse them. Hazel eyes that sparkle with warmth draw me in, holding me captive. It's not only that he's attractive, with his short dark hair and his full, kissable lips. No, it's more than that. In his eyes, I see something I lack—empathy. I see everything I want to be, but cannot.

  My fingers softly touch his face in the photograph. He's a savior. He volunteers at two homeless shelters and another animal shelter. He likes to spend his time helping people.

  He's the exact opposite of me.

  Hell, he probably puts people like me behind bars—the cold, unfeeling type. The ones who kill in cold blood and relish the sight of life leaving a body.

  I've known who I was long before the ASPD diagnosis, and even then I'd just shrugged it off and moved on. But now... now it might just prove to be a problem. Because Theo would never willingly involve himself with a criminal.

  I bet he goes for the shy, simpering type. The moment I think of him with another woman, a red haze covers my eyes. No... that can't happen. But I'm also smart enough to know he wouldn't be interested in someone like me.

  I need to change strategies—learn his habits and preferences and make myself the woman of his dreams. All while keeping all competition away from him.

  My plan can't be completed overnight. I will probably need time to create another persona, and to infiltrate his world so seamlessly he won't ever suspect a thing.

  Because I don't just want him.

  I want to keep him.

  Forever.

  Chapter One

  AGE NINETEEN,

  "You can start." I nod at the woman as I take a seat. The chair is parallel to the bed, and this angle allows for perfect visibility. Raising my gun just a little so they can see I'm not kidding; I lean back and make myself comfortable.

  The woman drops to her knees, her hands trembling as they struggle with the fastening of the man's pants. I roll my eyes at her obvious anxiousness and spare a glance at my watch. Vlad will not like this.

  "Faster!" I snap, thinking I'd already wasted enough time with the threats. If she keeps this up, I'll have a furious Vlad on my hands, and all for nothing.

  "Y-y-yes." She stammers and finally takes his dick out. Surprisingly, he's hard. Then again, given his age, he probably took something to help him out. I motion her to continue.

  She lowers her head, a
nd opening her mouth, she takes him in. I narrow my eyes, trying to look at her technique. I'm busy observing when the door busts open.

  "B, what's taking so long?" Vlad groans as he enters the room, locking the door behind him. He takes one look at the bed, then his eyes find me before shaking his head.

  "He was having a tête-à-tête with a prostitute." I shrug, pointing towards the mid-coitus couple.

  "So?" He arches an eyebrow, hand on dagger as he playfully rotates it in the air. "What are you waiting for?" He asks exasperated. I knew I should have been more succinct in my threats to get the action going faster. Vlad is not the patient type.

  "Don't you see?" I stand up, coming around the bed and pointing towards the huddled figures. "This is my opportunity to learn from a professional. Miss..." I look at her.

  "Abigail." She breathes out, her lip trembling.

  "Thank you. Miss Abigail here was just about to demonstrate the act of fellatio."

  We'd been ordered to assassinate the CEO of an oil company — Mr. Horace Bentham. I don't know if it had been luck or fate, but I'd got to him just as he was about to dip his wick in Miss Abigail. Now, I am not one to miss an opportunity when it's staring me in the face. Mr. Bentham would be dead, but only after I've assuaged my curiosity.

  "A blowjob, you mean." Vlad rolls his eyes at me, swinging his knife around and making sure the guests understood the unspoken threat.

  "Same thing." I wave my hand dismissively, and I take my seat once more. "Come, watch! You might learn a thing or two as well."

  "I'm fine." He replies drily. "You have ten minutes. Not more. We need to hand the proof that he's dead." He takes two steps and positions himself next to the windowsill.

  I frown.

  "Ten minutes? Is that how long sex lasts? I thought it was longer." I try to think back to all the magazines I'd read, but I realize none of them gave an explicit duration.

  "B," He groans, bringing his hand up to massage his temples. "I don't know how long sex lasts, but we are on a mission. He should have been dead half an hour ago. You're taking a risk."

  "Pretty please?" I bat my lashes at him, watching mild annoyance turn to defeat in one... two... Yes!

  "Fine. But you owe me."

  "Of course!" I beam. I know the rules. It's always quid pro quo with Vlad. We've been partners for three years now, and while our teamwork has been rather patchy in the beginning, forced proximity and a similar approach to life—or death rather—made it easier to bond. We're in this together, and so we've learned to make allowances for the differences in our behaviors. You might say that temper-wise we are completely different, I'm rather indifferent to things, and tend to be cool, while Vlad... well, safe to say it's better to not find out.

  I pull up another chair and place it next to me. Patting it, I motion for Vlad to join me. He shakes his head, muttering something, but relents and sits down.

  It takes a little more urging to get Abigail and Bentham moving, mostly in the form of me waving my gun around and shouting some directions. But soon, we are back on track and Abigail is once again sucking him off.

  I crane my neck, intently watching the movements of her mouth and tongue.

  "She's focusing too much on that area. Is it more sensitive?" I nudge Vlad.

  "For God's sake, B, how would I know?"

  "Well, you have one." I roll my eyes at the obvious, but then another thought crosses my mind and I whip my head to regard Vlad suspiciously. "You do, don't you?" Considering his nonexistent love life...

  "You're getting too personal and in my personal space." His hand comes to my forehead, giving me a flick that has me wince in pain.

  "That hurt, douche." I mutter, keeping a distance between us.

  Back to watching the couple, I tell them to switch position and get to the nitty gritty. I already know Vlad won't stand still for much longer, so I might as well get to the highlight of the show.

  Bentham is on his back and Abigail climbs on top of him, lowering herself onto his dick and riding him. From my vantage point, it looks rather... simple.

  "Hmm..." I muse, bringing my thumb up and placing it under my chin. It can't be too hard.

  So focused I am on watching Abigail's movements that I don't realize Vlad swiping the gun from my hand. I turn to him in time to see him aim at Bentham. Everything happens in slow motion as I open my mouth to scream no, before remembering I shouldn't draw any attention. The silencer on the gun ensures the shot is inaudible. I look in horror as a red circle appears on Bentham's forehead.

  "You didn't!" I breathe out, my eyes widening at his audacity. Not only did he just ruin my show, but he also stole my fucking kill. "Vlad. You..." I purse my lips, holding myself together. It won't do good to explode right now. Not when Abigail is wailing by Bentham's dead body.

  "You." Vlad points to Abigail, his voice dull and emotionless.

  Really?

  Vlad has certain triggers that make him... volatile. The easiest way to recognize the signs that he might succumb to his malady—whatever that is—is to watch his voice. He's learned to perfect an amiable, sarcastic tone, mostly so that people would find him harmless and... normal. He's anything but, though. And when his voice becomes cold... I shudder instinctively, my eyes going to the window. We're on the fifth floor. I wonder how many bones I'd break if I were to jump... I mentally remember the layout of the hotel and the outside architecture, hoping there's at least something to hang on. One thing's for sure: if Vlad goes mad, I'm out.

  "Get back on top and fuck him." He commands. I tilt my head very slowly, and I see that his eyes don't have a glazed look—yet. Ok, maybe he's not that gone.

  "But... he's dead." The girl whimpers, trying to cover herself.

  "I don't care." Vlad continues. "Now!" His voice booms, and Abigail finds herself unable to refuse.

  Bentham's dick is still hard, even though his eyes are blank. Abigail lowers herself on him once again, this time with uncoordinated movements.

  "What do you think you're doing?" I hiss at Vlad. This wasn't what we'd discussed.

  "I want to see if a corpse can ejaculate." He states in all seriousness.

  "W... what?" Even to my ears, that sounds crazy. But one glance at his face and I can see he's invested in this. Great! Another one of his science experiments.

  I settle back in my chair, and we both watch as Abigail keeps on fucking herself on a dead man's cock. Time goes by, and nothing happens.

  "Let's finish this and go." I get up to leave, already miffed with Vlad.

  He doesn't seem to hear me, as he tilts his head to the right, his eyes focused on Abigail.

  "Vlad!" I snap my fingers in front of him, but he just swipes my hand aside. He raises his eyes to look at me, a bored expression on his face.

  "Fucking hell!" I curse, snatching my gun from his hand. "One thing I asked. Just one. And you had to ruin it."

  "But how often do you get to see someone fuck a corpse?" He asks me, looking so innocent. I narrow my eyes at him.

  "You're sick." I mutter under my breath. While I am not quite normal myself, I'm certainly nowhere near Vlad's level of fucked up. That is a competition I will always lose, as much as it pains me to admit.

  Grabbing onto his jacket, I pull him to his feet, ready to end this. He seems to have other ideas, though, as he wraps his hand around my arm, pushing me out of the way.

  My mouth drops open, my eyes wide as I look at him incredulously. Did he just... push me? It's instinctive as my fist shoots out, nabbing his cheek. Head to the side, he checks his jaw for any damage, before slowly turning towards me, his eyes glinting with excitement.

  "You want it rough, little goddess?" He says a second before he delivers an uppercut straight to my gut. I don't even get to wince in pain as I get ready to parry his next hit, all the while landing others of my own.

  Fists flying, we're messing around at this point.

  Then it all stops.

  Vlad's got one hand wrapped around my throat, and with
the other he throws his dagger so it lodges straight in between Abigail's eyes as she was about to make her escape. Releasing me, he goes to check on both bodies.

  I massage my neck, stretching a little.

  "This is on you." I add when he turns his face at the blood pooling on the carpet. "We could have done it so much cleaner..." I shake my head.

  "If it wasn't for your brilliant idea to watch them fuck, maybe we wouldn't be here, would we?"

  "Hey!" I exclaim, outraged.

  "Let's call it a draw." He sighs. "You wanted to learn about sex and I... Well, I wanted to learn about sex after death. I'd say we both got what we wanted."

  "No, I did not." I cross my arms, pissed at how everything had turned out. "You ruined a perfectly good chance! How am I supposed to get good at it now?" The more I think about this failed attempt, the angrier I get. Next time I'm making sure Vlad is as far away as possible from me when I try anything similar.

  "I don't know, practice? Should be like fighting. Practice makes best." He says with a shrug, setting about decapitating Bentham. We need to show proof that the man is dead.

  "But I can't do that." I frown. He's right that practice makes best, but it wouldn't work for me in this scenario. "There's only one man I want, and I need to be the best at sex so I can blow his mind. Then he'll fall madly in love with me and we'll live happily ever after." My soliloquy finished; I breathe out a dreamy smile.

  "I don't know, B. Figure something out. Seduce him in disguise if you must, but stop compromising our missions. This isn't the first time you've been absentminded because of that wimp."

  For once, I overlook his insult as I latch on his previous words. Seduce him in disguise? Get him to fuck me? My mind is slowly working, putting together all the variables, when suddenly a big smile stretches across my face.

  "You're a genius!" I jump up and down in excitement. I dash to his side and give him a big kiss on the cheek. "That's exactly what I'll do!" Why didn't I think of this before? It's simply the best solution.