Slamming their lips together, they nod slowly while one of them pens it down.
“Thank you, ma’am. Anything else you thought was particularly off about the party? Some other guests, maybe?”
I think about this for a second. If I should answer or not. Anything I say can and will be used against me. The first suspect in homicide cases is always the next of kin. And truth be told, Phillip was acting weirdly. Who knows, this whole thing might’ve been set up.
Someone might’ve wrecked the car. Or worse … someone might have killed Phillip on purpose.
And then it dawns on me.
This might actually be the truth.
I swallow away the lump in my throat. That car crash was no accident. My husband has many enemies, which makes him an easy target. However, my biggest concern is the fact that I’m his wife, and wives are always one of the prime suspects.
Especially when the husband and wife are both cheating bastards.
Chapter Four
Vanessa
A few days later …
Arthur returns to visit me, and the moment I see his face, I’m feeling much better already. Especially considering the fact that the police might question me again, and I don’t want to tell them what really happened at the party.
“Hey, how are you?” he asks, as he presses a compassionate kiss to my cheek.
“Better, although I’m a bit scared,” I say, as he sits down next to me.
“How come?”
“Well, I fear the police will come back to question me, and I won’t know how to answer their questions.”
His brows furrow. “What happened, Vanessa? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just that I realize I can’t keep everything I do hidden. Not if it means lying to the police.”
“What do you have to lie about? You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says.
Arthur is such a gentleman, always believing in my innocence.
I’m not so sure myself.
Biting my lip, I answer, “Well, I’m not sure, to be honest. I was in a bad mood, and I did something that I might regret now.”
“What? What happened?” He grabs my hand. “Is it because of him and those girls again?”
Arthur knew what a dirty pig his brother was. At first, I was afraid that telling him would mean I’d get into trouble. Luckily, it only made him hate his brother more. It also increased his infatuation with me.
“There was a … woman in our bedroom. They were together,” I say, swallowing away my nerves. “I haven’t told the police.”
“Is that it? That doesn’t incriminate you,” he says, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth.
“I wish. Except that I couldn’t stomach the thought of him tumbling around with some woman in what was supposed to be our bed.”
“I can imagine,” he says.
“I was angry, Arthur. So angry.” I look him directly in the eye. “I wanted him to feel just as bad. I wanted to hurt him, Arthur. I wanted revenge.”
“What did you do?” he asks, frowning as if I just dug up a body.
Now is the time to tell him the truth. The reason why I’m so afraid.
Why I think it could incriminate me as my husband’s murderer.
I slept with another man.
*
During the party …
Don’t mess with a scorned wife. She’ll return the inflicted pain times a thousand.
On the outside, I seem calm, charming even, but on the inside, I’m boiling and ready for revenge. In my pretty dress and high heels, adorning the arm of a rich man who brings whores to his home, I join the party of equally slimy people. All for the sake of reputation. That’s all that matters in a world where money is power.
But I won’t sit by and let this man waltz all over my feelings.
If he doesn’t care, I will make him care.
When the small talk is over, I excuse myself and walk to the bar. I need a drink before I figure out how I’m going to get what I want. The kind of guy who’s a stranger to everyone, elusive but filled with unknown desires… a guy who’s dangerous. Slick, combed back black hair with the sides trimmed short, black gauges in his ears, a barbell in his left eyebrow and right underneath his lip, and tattoos running from his hands all the way up to his torso. Trouble and lust, a delicious and deadly combination. Just the kind that I should avoid like the plague but need like my life depends on it. The kind that makes even the coldest of hearts catch fire.
The kind that’s standing next to me right now.
I can’t believe this man is here, out of all places to be. It’s like a dream come true right now. A deviously bad, but oh, so good dream.
He’s playing with his wallet, and on the leather, an engraved name is stamped: Phoenix Sullivan. Well, isn’t that nice.
He tucks it back into his pocket in no time. With a quick glance at the mirror hanging from the wall, I check how I look, making sure my fake blond curls still look good and my red lipstick isn’t smudged. Then I turn my attention toward the handsome man standing just a few inches away.
As I step closer, his eyes zoom in on me like a hawk zooming in on prey. That focus alone gives me fever.
“Hey stranger,” I say, chuckling a bit.
“Hello.” He picks up a glass of champagne from the bar.
“So, what brought you to this party?” I ask, putting on my flirty voice.
“I’m here to fulfill a job for a client.” He takes a sip from his drink.
“Oh, really? And what kind of a job might that be?”
He looks me straight in the eyes, his face unmoving, chilling me to the bone. “Confidential.”
“Oh … exciting,” I joke, touching his arm.
Just that one touch is enough to tell he’s buff. His muscles bulge through his black vest, and I can’t imagine what else is hiding underneath that slick outfit.
“Not really,” he says. “But it must be done.” He takes another sip.
“Hmm … such dedication. I like it.”
“Is there anything you required, Mrs.?” he suddenly asks, flashing me a quick smile that sets my body on fire.
“Just your time,” I answer, smiling cheekily. “And maybe more. Why? Are you afraid I’ll steal the attention away from your job?”
“No.” He checks his watch. “I still have plenty of time left.”
I step a little closer and lean forward. “Then why not spend some time with me?”
His brows furrow and the left side of his lip curls up for a second. “Correct me if I’m wrong but are you hitting on me?”
“Is that a crime?” I murmur, licking my lips.
His eyes are half-mast now. “That depends on what you consider a crime. You have a husband, don’t you?”
“Yes, so?” I raise an eyebrow.
He cocks his head, a smile slowly building on his face. “What did you have in mind?”
I lean in and whisper in his ear, “You. Me. That room in the back of that obscure hallway.”
When I arch my back and look out into the room, I can clearly spot Phillip watching me. I don’t give a damn what he thinks. I’m going for it. I actually want him to see what I’m about to do.
Phoenix turns to me. His eyes are narrowed, and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Then he brings the glass to his mouth and chugs down all the remaining champagne.
No words come from his mouth. Instead, he puts down the glass and checks the room before grabbing my hand and dragging me down the hallway to that one room I mentioned. With one last glance to see if anyone’s following us, he opens the door, pulls us both inside, and slams it shut before closing the lock.
“You seduced the wrong man, lady,” he says.
When he steps closer, I take a step back, taunting him to come and get me. Only one step and I’m out of space to flee. This is just a small room they use to store tables and chairs for parties. I picked it exactly because it’s obscure and the door can be locked from the inside. Th
is isn’t the first time I’ve been to a party at this venue. Nor is this my first rodeo.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“You know exactly why. It’s the reason you picked me as your target in the first place. Women like you are all the same.” He pushes aside a table to come near me.
“Oh? So you have experience with this? Tell me more,” I retort.
“Plenty, but there’s always room to add one more,” he growls.
When he’s in front of me, he places his hands on the table behind me and corners me. “Are you afraid?”
He leans forward, his face inches away from mine as if he’s gauging how I’ll react.
I shake my head.
“You should be,” he whispers.
“Yes,” I whimper when his lips come so close I can feel his hot breath on my skin.
“My jobs are the kind that gets people killed. You come seeking love from the devil himself,” he whispers, chuckling. “Why?”
His lips are inches away from mine, and I arch to meet his mouth, but he won’t let me kiss him. “I need it,” I say.
“Are you that desperate?” he asks.
I frown. “Are you trying to persuade me not to do this or something?”
“I’m trying to save you your marriage,” he says, frowning. “And your safety.”
“I don’t care,” I say, closing my eyes.
“You just want me to take you,” he says. “Like a needy housewife.”
“Yes,” I say, trying not to sound pathetic. I just threw all of my morals out of the window. Do I care? Not even a little bit. Anything for the sake of vengeance.
“All right. I’ll fuck you, missy. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk away from this party without wobbling legs.”
“Fuck, yes …” I mutter.
He smashes his lips onto mine before I can say anything else.
His lips are ruthless, overtaking my mouth like he wants to devour me whole. He isn’t gentle or sweet. He just takes what he wants, kissing me full on the lips with raw excitement. His tongue swipes over my mouth, probing so I open my mouth and let him in. His neediness blows me away; his kisses demanding as he swoops me off the floor and places me on the table. I moan into his mouth as he grabs my arms and forces his mouth onto mine. I can hardly breathe.
“You wanted this, so now I’ll take what I want the way I want it.”
His hand moves to my dress, which he scrunches up until his hands are gripping my bare waist. From there he rips down my panties in one go, almost tugging me off the table. I barely manage to hold on.
“Holy shit,” I mutter as he kicks them aside and places his hand on my neck, pulling me in for another kiss.
“Shut up and enjoy the ride, Princess.”
Princess. I rarely hear that nickname. It feels good to hear it, though.
No time to react. He pulls my hair back roughly, and his lips press a kiss on my neck, sucking so hard that it leaves a mark. They drag down toward my chest until he reaches the top of my dress. With one big tug, he rips it down, exposing my breast.
I squeal. “Be careful.”
His grip on my hair tightens as he pulls my head back. “No, Princess. You don’t get to decide how to play this game. You came to the lion’s den. Now, you do what the lion wants. And I want to fill up your tight pussy with my cum. Think you can handle that?”
I nod, swallowing. “Not without a condom, though,” I add.
He cocks his head, an amused look flashing on his face. “You think I would risk my own health for some pussy, Princess? Even if your fucking pussy was made out of pure gold, I wouldn’t risk it. Now, lie down,” he growls.
He pushes me down before I can say anything. My head hits the table as he spreads my legs and presses his thumb right on top of my clit. “Let’s get this pussy nice and wet, shall we?”
I pant and squirm from his touch, which is impossibly good. My head is spinning, my heart is racing, and my body is so goddamn ready for this man … this man who defies everything I should involve myself in.
But I want it. I need it.
Even if this man takes from me what he wants without control, I still want what he offers. This rage feels incredible, powerful, like a drug. I can’t get enough. I gave him permission to use me, and now I want the beast unleashed.
This man is my ultimate fantasy, what I’ve always dreamed of doing but never dared because of the meaning of the rock on my ring finger. This man … this man is danger incarnated.
He’ll be the death of me.
*
Present
The memory repeats itself in my head, and I can’t get rid of the shudder caused by the thought of our short affair. Arthur has put on a gloomy face, his frown seemingly permanent. Of course, he wouldn’t like me telling him this. It’s like holding a lollypop in front of a child and then putting it in your own mouth. Arthur wants what I had with that man. He’s wanted it for years, but it wasn’t right, and we both knew that.
I sigh. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Ma’am?” The police standing in the doorway again suddenly distract me.
“Oh, you’re back,” I say.
I wonder how long they’ve been standing there, and if they heard everything I said. Will they use it against me?
“Do you have any news?” I ask quickly.
“Well, there’s been an examination of your husband’s body, and what they found wasn’t what we were expecting.”
I slam my mouth shut, afraid of what they’re going to say.
“I think you’d better sit down,” they say to Arthur as he gets up from his chair.
“Tell me what happened to my brother,” he says. “It wasn’t just an accident, was it?”
“No.”
I hold my breath.
It feels like I’m choking.
“Phillip Starr was poisoned.”
My whole world falls to pieces the moment he speaks the words.
Everything I know will change forever.
I knew it the moment I saw the light leave his eyes and his lifeless arms rest on the steering wheel. The crash didn’t cause his death. My husband was murdered.
“Murdered?” I mutter.
My eyes widen. The horror sinks in.
And then the real shock smacks me in the face like a brick.
I know how he died … he died because of me.
Chapter Five
Phoenix
During the party…
With a drink in my hand, I watch my target vehemently. I have to time this perfectly, wait for the time to surreptitiously make my move. It’s already quite suspicious that I’m just standing here at the bar, doing nothing but eyeballing the partygoers while slurping drinks. I’ve already had a few people glance at me with disgusted looks on their face. Each time, I look straight into their eyes until they get so creeped out they just turn their heads and leave. I love fucking with people. In the literal sense of the word as well, of course.
Especially that girl standing next to her supposed husband. Fuck, it’s so wrong. She’s like half his age, and all he does is grope other women. I’ve seen his hands all over that other woman’s butt several times, even though they’re presumably friends. I don’t understand why she accepts it. I would have killed the son of a bitch a long time ago.
Suddenly, she turns her head toward me, and I’m awestruck at the furious look on her face. That sparkle in her eyes … I recognize it … it’s the thirst for vengeance. Lucky for the both of us, the booze is over here.
I wait until she approaches me with her hips swaying back and forth in that white dress of hers. The fake smile plastered on her face pisses me off to no end because it makes me want to shake some sense into her. What the fuck is she doing here and why the fuck did she marry that man? Although, I think she might be asking herself that same question right now.
I’ve noticed her checking me out. It’s been a long time si
nce a woman actively wanted my attention; most of the time, they’re scared for their lives. I can’t say I don’t enjoy it, although I could crush the glass in my hands right now. I hate it when I’m distracted from my target, but damn, this fucking girl … I just want to fuck some sense into her. Maybe I’ll do just that.
She’s too pretty to let go. Fucking wasn’t on my to-do list tonight, but I’ll gladly put her on it. I’d be a fool to turn that down. Besides, she’s the wife of the man I’m going to kill. I’d call that an added bonus.
*
Vanessa
Later on at the party …
Phoenix wipes the lipstick stains from his cheek as I put my panties back on and pull my dress back together, trying to make it look like less of a mess. The content smirk on his face, coupled with my insatiable hunger for revenge, is shameful. It was worth it. I want to see the look on Phillip’s face the moment he sees me walking out of this room, all flushed and high on endorphins. The only thing Phillip isn’t able to give me; pleasure.
When Phoenix throws the condom in the trash, he turns to open the door.
“Hey,” I say. “Am I ever going to see you again?”
“What do you mean? We’re both at the same party, and I’m not leaving until I finish the job.”
“I mean … after the party.” I swallow, unsure of what I should say, if I should even say anything. What we did was unspeakable, loathsome, and we did it anyway. There’s some sort of dark bond between us now, something invisible that I can’t explain or even put into words. All I know is that we share something that no one else at this party can even fathom. Something primal, something vicious. Something evil.
“That’s not up to me,” he says, running his fingers through his coal black hair.
I get off the table as he holds the door open and waits for me to approach. “Then who is it up to?” I ask.
Cocking his head, he gazes at me without speaking a word. I refuse to pass him before he does, facing him with equal determination.
“You,” he says.
I frown, but he doesn’t allow me to ask another question. He simply leaves the room without me. I guess chivalry has its limits.
