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But there were no servers up here. I couldn’t grab him a fresh drink and drop in another dose.

I also had no more on me. The wall around the roof was about four feet tall and too high to claim he leaned over and fell on his own. Maybe people would think it was on purpose. That he jumped.

Ugh, that would require more work on my end. I’d have to leave a note for someone to find. There had to be an easier option.

Something simple.

I wanted to get this over with and done.

My hidden knife was always the last resort. I attached the holster to my upper thigh, and retrieving it would give him a nice show, not that he’d live to tell the tale.

But stabbing was messy and required me to call in for a clean-up crew, not only for the body and scene, but to make sure people didn’t ask questions. I wasn’t in the mood.

“So that’s why we don’t bother with the organic processes. It cuts into revenue.”

I nodded along as if I cared.

He was too coherent, not showing any effects. What the hell?

My claws could work. A quick slash across his throat, but how would humans explain a wolf on the roof of a museum in the middle of the city?

That part wasn’t technically my problem. I could tell the clean-up team I had no other choice.

He gasped, clutching his chest.

Finally.

His eyes snapped to me. “Hel—”

He only got out the first sound, but I knew he wanted help. They all did.

I stepped away. I hated when they reached out for me, and the last thing I wanted was him tearing at my dress as he collapsed.

His head jerked. His knees gave out. He hit the ground on his side. I sighed and moved closer to the stairs as the explanation clicked.

I hadn’t accounted for him yapping more than drinking.

His body twitched. I waited. Five seconds between breaths, then eight, and then ten until his lungs didn’t inflate again.

There. All done. Nice and pretty, how I liked it.

No one noticed me re-entering the main exhibit and calmly making my way to the exit. I slipped into a crowd of several people pouring into the street and searched for my driver.

Vic gave me a small smile when our eyes met, and I glided toward the waiting black town car. He opened the back door, and I slid onto the smooth leather seat as he shut it behind me.

Neither of us spoke until we were a few blocks away.

“Any issues.”

“No.” I smoothed my dress over my thighs and kicked off my heels. “Fuck!”

“What?” He glanced over his shoulder at me.

“Someone spilled wine on the hem.” I glared at the offending stain. This was one of my favorite dresses. The slit made for easy access to my knife, and the top made my boobs look amazing. “That’s going to be a bitch to get out.”

CHAPTER 2

Emilia