by G N Wright
I also know that every Sunday he uses his office for some extracurricular activities. It wasn’t exactly hard to hack into his phone and see the countless hookers he has booked every week, for the last two years. All of them with extremely specific instructions on what he likes, one of them being leather.
How convenient, Mr. Kavanagh. I like leather too.
I’m wearing fitted black leather pants with a matching leather corset. They look perfect with my knee-high leather heeled boots and leather gloves. The perfect murder outfit, if you ask me. Have you ever tried to get blood out of clothes? It’s not easy. Lucky for me, leather makes cleaning up much easier.
Next to the pile of evidence against him on his desk, I have some cable ties, rope, tape and a small bag of tools. Some for him and some for my plan. I have already taken care of all the cameras inside the building, on the street and in the surrounding areas. We are going to be spending some time completely alone and uninterrupted.
I hear the elevator ding and I smile. Showtime.
Joseph Kavanagh stalks into the office how I’m sure he stalks into the courtroom, like a hunter ready to rip his prey apart. Little does he know, he’s the prey tonight. His smile is predatory when he takes in my leather clad form. I am standing in front of the window with only the outside light silhouetting my frame. The perfect backdrop to show off my body, but not my face. Not that he would recognize me. I traded my fake brunette locks for a bright red wig. This piece of shit is getting sliced up by the fucking little mermaid tonight.
“Fuck, you’re delicious,” he grunts, “am I paying extra for such beauty?”
I smirk even bigger as I purr back, “Oh trust me, Mr. Kavanagh. My price is very high, only few are afforded it.”
“And worth every penny I bet.” His sexual tone makes me grind my teeth. I should just shoot him right now in the fucking head, but I have plans first. I want him to know how fucked he is before he dies, and not in the way he enjoys.
He moves to walk towards me, but I halt him with a hand in the air, “Clothes off.”
“Thought I was in charge here,” he teases me, and I roll my eyes in the dark. Fucking slimy prick.
I put on my best flirting porn voice as I beg him, “Please sir, I wanna play a game first.” I see him turn giddy when I say that, and I want to gag.
He unbuttons his suit jacket, taking it off and folding it over the arm of the sofa in a way only someone who grew up rich would. He reaches for his tie to loosen it, “Okay I’ll bite,” he says with a sick smile and wink. “You can have a little fun, but then I’ll have mine.”
I feel the bloodthirst burning through my veins as I reach for a leather riding crop from his desk and his smile turns sadistic. “Pants off, Mr. Kavanagh. Show me what I get to play with tonight.” I don’t even have to fake the excitement in my tone as I think about all the ways I am going to make him bleed.
He wastes no time stripping the rest of his clothes until he is standing in nothing but a fitted white wife beater and grey boxer shorts. His body is toned and muscular and I can see how he fools so many girls into thinking his fake charm is real. He is attractive for an older man, it’s how he landed himself three wives, I’m sure. They didn’t see the devil lurking within, they were too bewitched by his smiling face. But his eyes, that's where the soul lies, and his truth appears. He’s just another sick fuck with too much money and too much power. I am going to relish in making him atone for his sins.
He moves towards me, still trying to remain in control, just how he likes it, well not tonight Satan. As he nears me, I push back against him, leading him backwards until he falls into a chair behind his desk. I turn him so it faces back towards his desk and then slide myself on top of it in front of him. I can already see him hardening beneath his boxers. God. Men really do let their cocks rule them. If he just looked past me, he would notice the flat lay of weapons waiting for him. I part my legs so I can pull him towards me, and he licks his lips as they land on either side of where he's sitting.
Once there, I tease him, dragging my hands across his chest before reaching down to one of his arms and then cable tying one of his wrists before he can even register. He tries to protest, so I reach down and palm his cock until he hisses in pleasure.
“Want me to play with this?” I tease while thinking of how many times I am going to fucking sanitize my hands after this, even though I am wearing gloves. He nods profusely. “Then let me be a bad girl so I can be punished.” He groans at my words and I have to refrain from rolling my eyes again. He allows me to cuff his other wrist and then I use my heeled boot to push him backwards. Once I have him where I want him, I slide off the desk and fall to my knees. I used to think my beauty was a curse, but when I see the lust in his eyes and how it's allowed him to be at my submission. I suddenly realize it isn’t a curse at all, just another weapon in my arsenal.
I drag one of my hands up his thigh, bypassing his cock slightly and keep pushing it up his torso to his shoulder. My other hand reaches behind my back as I lean in and whisper into his ear, “The King sends her regards.”
My words barely hit his ear before I plunge my knife right into his cock. I pull it back immediately and watch in delight as blood pours from his groin. He screams out in pain, but I shove a rag in his mouth to silence them into muffles.
When I look him in the eye, his cocky and lustful stare has been replaced with pain and panic. I smile as I pull the wig off and watch realization hit him.
“Tell me, Mr. Kavanagh. Was it worth it? All those criminals you defended; all those crimes that went unreported, unpunished. Was it worth it?” He can’t answer me obviously, but I enjoy watching him try.
“Anything you had to say in defense stopped mattering the moment Elliot Donovan took his first victim right under your nose.” I’m not even angry, in fact, I have never felt this calm before. There is no adrenaline rush, no worrying about taking someone's life. There is just peaceful contentment. This is what I have to do. To beat the Devil, you have to become a monster.
I track the blood as it slowly seeps down his legs onto the floor, he is panting hard, and his body is covered in sweat. I watch as he tries to control his breathing, his eyes panicked as I reach forward and pull the rag from his mouth now.
“What the fuck is going on?” he manages to stutter, and now I do roll my eyes at him. I mean it’s pretty obvious what is going on. His crimes have caught up with him and it’s time for his death. I thought he was smart enough to realize that.
I bring my knife back towards his face and he stares at it in fear. “How long has Elliot known about Cassie?” I ask him.
He looks between me and the knife a couple of times before his eyes lock on mine. Judging by his defiant glare, he’s clearly decided that I won’t stab him again while I’m questioning him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he starts, but is cut off when I plunge the knife in between his ribs. There is a spot where if you tilt the knife at the right angle, it will miss any vital organs. Painful, but not life threatening.
He grunts out in pain as I respond, “I don’t like liars, Mr. Kavanagh.” I hiss at him as I slide the knife back out and wipe the blood on his bare thigh.
He starts to shake. I think he realizes he isn’t getting out of this alive, finally that legal brain of his is kicking in.
“Okay okay just stop. Please,” he begs.
I pull back ready to listen to him. “When did Elliot find out about Cassie?” I ask again.
“A couple of weeks ago,” he pants through the agony he’s no doubt feeling. “Someone saw you; I don’t know who, he didn’t tell me. Whoever it was is close to Greg and, well, you know what he’s like.” He grunts in pain, “As soon as he heard about her, he wanted her, wanted you and well, Elliot is all about family.” He says the last part like he actually means it.
“After that he ordered a tail on you. He had eyes on you at school, had you followed. But you were always with those little South Side punks, the Riviera boy and
his pals.” He grunts, slurring slightly and I know it’s from the pain and blood loss, but clearly, he knows I don’t care because he forces himself to continue. “They tried to get you alone, but you were too well guarded. They worked out an opportunity with the ball and you took the bait, like they knew you would.” He isn’t smug in the delivery of his words, just factual. He is right, they found my weakness and exploited it. Between the need for revenge and the safety of my daughter, they found my Achilles heel.
I think about all the times I have been out with Cassie in the last month and I can pinpoint the moment they discovered her. I know exactly who told Greg and they have just landed themselves a top spot on my list. I take a slow deep breath in as I think about what I have just learned, and then ask my last question.
“Where is he keeping her?” My tone is as harsh as steel as I try not to let my panic show when I think about what could be happening to her.
“Ahh,” he gasps in misery, “Greg will keep her close, but not accessible, he knows Asher is with you, so he won’t risk it.” Hmm glad to know they don’t underestimate my best friend. I nod through his words as I try to think of where she would be. She has to be on the Donovan estate, surely. It’s their most guarded location, aside from their fucking trafficking warehouse. I pray to all the gods she isn’t there.
I have no further questions for him, so I start packing up my stuff. I see it, the moment he realizes there is nothing else he can offer me, nothing but his death as payment for his crimes. He doesn’t even have time to flinch when I bring the knife to his neck and slice in one swift movement from left to right.
Watching someone choke on their own blood sounds like it would be satisfying, but in reality, it actually takes a few minutes for them to die. It’s pretty boring, but I don’t allow him the final satisfaction of being put out of his misery early. I patiently wait until I see the life drain from his eyes and the struggling gurgled breaths pant into silence. Then I wait some more. Once I am sure he is dead, I plant a bullet between his eyes. That one is for my own pleasure.
The hardest part now is getting one of his large glass windowpanes out of its frame. I had to watch a few tutorials and call Oliver to walk me through it a couple of times, but I manage to do it quite easily after that. Once it’s done, I slide it carefully aside, before wheeling the carcass, slumped in his office chair closer. I cut him loose and tie a rope around his upper torso. It takes a bit of maneuvering but eventually, I get him how I want him.
I get the large piece of card I brought with me and scrawl the words on it in black permanent marker before I staple it to his chest. Have you ever stapled into someone's body? It’s quite fun. Once done, I step back and inspect my handywork and can’t help but smile. He looks so perfect.
Then I push him out of the window.
Chapter 11
MARCUS
We’re outside yet another of Elliot Donovan’s properties while Elijah does a perimeter sweep. On Max’s orders we are waiting in the car like sitting ducks. Asher is riding shotgun next to me, and Lincoln and Jace are in the back. This is the fourth house we have attempted today, but I know in my bones we will be leaving just as disappointed as the last three times. Cassie isn’t here and we are wasting valuable time. Every minute we spend searching leaves her helpless to those monsters.
I smash my fist against the wheel in frustration, the guys don’t even flinch at my outburst and I barely feel the sting. I’m just fucking sick of this feeling in the pit of my stomach that has been present since I walked into Elle’s house and found her covered in blood. I use the same hand to rub at my chest in rough circular motions, just trying to ease the ache of loss I’m experiencing. I just need to be doing more than sitting outside that rich pricks endless fucking houses.
“This place is too quiet,” Lincoln's voice cuts into the silence.
“It’s not like they’re gonna be advertising that they rape girls and kidnap children,” Jace scoffs in sarcasm beside him. The sight of the guys makes me feel even worse. Asher is acting emotionless, but I know him well enough to know how much he is dying inside. I am too. We won’t rest until we get our girls back to us. I never thought I would welcome him with open arms into my family, but he completes it in a way I could have never imagined. My brothers are just as cut up, and their pain is my pain. We are like a unit of joint emotion. All drowning in a hole of self-destruction and pain, just desperate for some progress.
“Blackwell is right,” Asher starts.
“I usually am,” Linc snaps in retort, and Ash rolls his eyes.
“She isn’t here, there would be more security if she were. My father wouldn’t risk losing something with such a high value,” the words are dripping in disgust as he talks, yet his words mirror my thoughts. We are extremely in tune with each other, both more than aware of all the sordid things his father is capable of. How Elliot Donovan birthed a son with such honor when he was raised in the same house as fucking Greg, will always astound me. He should know he is nothing like those snakes.
“He lost you,” I say, without taking my eyes off the property in front of us and Asher scoffs a laugh.
“If you think I’ve ever held any importance to my father, then you’re dumber than you look.” I look towards him as he speaks, “Only heirs’ matter in this society, second born are irrelevant.”
I don’t get a chance to respond as Elijah climbs back into the car. “The only person there is a housekeeper and from what I can tell, she looked like she wasn’t expecting any company.”
“Elliot only ever uses this place to entertain females he needs something from but are too well known to bribe.” Asher responds to him in a bored flat tone as he looks back to the property. “This is a waste of time, the only place he will be keeping Cassie is close to him, which means she is being kept at my estate behind a 25 ft wall and countless guards.”
“I agree with Asher, this is bullshit,” Jace replies.
I don’t bother responding, just start the car and leave, heading back to Elle’s house. By the time we get home, it’s officially Monday morning and all I want to do is eat and try to grab a couple hours sleep. I am beyond tired. Being out all day and night has worn me out physically. The constant ache of missing Elle and Cassie however, is what's causing true exhaustion.
We pull up and are barely out of the car when Max emerges at the front door, “You need to see this,” he gestures inside and then disappears. I didn’t miss the extra cameras on the gate on the way in, or the team of guards trickling around the property line. Something’s happened.
We all make our way inside and follow Max into the living room where him and the rest of his team are all staring at the huge flat screen on the wall. I look around the room, but no one says anything. Their sole focus is on the news report playing on the TV. I turn my attention to it and see a crime scene being shown.
The reporter is standing in front of a huge office building and it’s swarming with police. Max starts laying out documents on the coffee table as we watch, and I flick my gaze between the two. What the hell?
“The body of Joseph Kavanagh was found about an hour ago hanging from the window of his office,” Max starts, as he picks up the remote and mutes the news report.
“He killed himself?” Lincoln questions and Max looks at him and then back to the rest of the room, before settling on me.
“Not exactly.” He takes a deep breath as he gestures to Mason who starts to bring up pictures on the TV screen in front of us.
“He was stabbed multiple times before he had his throat slit. Then he was tied up, had a sign stapled to his chest and then thrown from his window.” His words are emotionless, but I can see the undercurrent of panic and anger rolling off of him.
“What did the sign say?” Asher asks with just as little emotion as Max.
Mason swipes through a few pictures until he stops on one of the bloody sign that they must have pulled from his body.
‘I PROTECTED RAPISTS!’
H
oly shit. They really woke the demon in Elle when they came after her family. I’m not surprised, but everything she has done so far has been in the shadows. Now she isn’t only stepping out into the light, but into the public eye. She might not have revealed herself, but no one is safe.
Mason clears his throat, “His office was also covered in evidence of his own crimes that he had buried over the years.”
“She knows better than this,” Max snaps, losing some of his cool and I snort, causing him to cut his eyes to mine, “Something to add, Riviera?”
“Yeah, you’re a fucking idiot if you thought this would go any other way.” I can’t keep the smile off my face as I talk. We may be in a fucking shit show of a situation, but Elle always loved the dramatics.
“Elle knows how to cover her tracks,” the quiet dude called Liam starts, but I cut him off.
“Sure, if it were Elle playing the game with her head on straight. But we aren’t dealing with a rational Elle right now, are we?” I grit through my teeth, “We are dealing with loose cannon Elle. The one who walked in here and found her brother fucking dying and her daughter gone. If you thought she was just gonna go about things silently, then you don’t know her at all.” I am beyond fuming; how could they think this would be any different? She will do whatever she needs to do, if it means that she makes it to Cassie
She is done covering up the crimes of this town, including her own. She isn’t whispering into the ears of Donovan's minions anymore, she is shouting from the rooftops and slaying whoever is in her path. She needs us now more than ever.
I look at Asher and then to my brothers, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” I don’t even wait for them to respond before I am stalking out the room.
“Where are you going?” Max calls after me
“Where I should have gone from the start,” I yell back
I head to the garage towards Lincoln's SUV and pull out a smoke as I wait for the guys to follow me. I only manage a couple of drags before they appear.
