Page 65 of Carved Obsession

“I checked traffic, it’s all clear,” I tell him.

“And our target?”

“Calm, but last time I checked, he kept looking at his watch.”

“Perfect. It’s a forty-five-minute drive, plus the car change in Cranwick. We should be there around the same time his date arrives. Then, in and out in fifteen minutes,”Dad says, confirming the plan.

“I bet I can be in and out in ten.”

With a hearty, rugged laugh, he guides the car along the dark roads out of Queenscove.“Fifteen was already stretching it, but as you wish. I bet you dinner for a week.”

“And dessert,” I add. “Homemade unicorn cake.” I follow his car as he takes a left onto the regional highway. We’re avoiding all the big interstates since most are monitored by cameras.

“I don’t know what a unicorn cake is, but since I’m not losing, I don’t need to. You better clear your schedule, sweet pea. You’re gonna be doing a lot of cooking.”

It’s my turn to laugh because he will absolutely have to learn what the rainbow cake with a fondant unicorn on top is. I admit, ten minutes might be a stretch to get into Randy Wayne’s mansion, navigate my way around the gargantuan space, and come out with our assets, but I love a good challenge.

The rest of the ride goes smoothly. The roads are surprisingly lively, and we like it this way. We don’t attract attention when there’s a stream of constant, albeit calm, traffic.

We stop in Cranwick, about fifteen minutes away from our destination, to pick up our second cars from their hiding spot. We drove them to the back of the abandoned gas station three nights ago for this purpose. On every job we do, no matter where it is, we change cars to these two that can’t be traced back to us. Plus, they’re so generic, so mind-numbingly normal, they don’t stand out at all.

We reach Randy Wayne’s estate through the road at the back of the property, in the small woodland that borders it on three sides. His need for privacy is our advantage.

I call Dad as I pull my laptop from the padded briefcase I placed in the footwell. A few years back, I accidentally broke the laptop screen on my way to a job. When I hit a pothole, it fell against the hard case of a toolkit. The bag it was in didn’t help, and it fucked the entire job since I use it to control alarm systems and CCTV. So padded briefcases are my go-to now.

“What’s the status?”Dad asks over the speaker.

My fingertips fly over the keyboard as I make my way back into Wayne’s home security system, which I already hacked two months ago when we started researching this job.

“His date arrived,” I confirm as I find the man in the grand foyer of his mansion.

I turn up the volume and listen to their conversation—small talk. Awkward. Not because he doesn’t know the escort he hired, but because he’s itching to get her down to his secret room in the basement. Every three weeks, he does this. He sends his wife and kids on a luxurious shopping trip somewhere far away from here so he can indulge in his secret desires. She’s a dominatrix, and he’s addicted to the degradation she offers.

I had thepleasureof seeing it all when I realized he has a separate security system for the basement and his secret room. It was all the insight I needed to figure out the best time to break into his house. I know how long he’s going to be in there, and I also know he sends all the staff home the day the dominatrix comes. While he’s busy in his little dungeon, the rest of the house is dead quiet.

Mine to play in.

“They’re going downstairs,” I tell Dad.

“Get ready.”

I follow them on the CCTV as they reach the basement. His steps quicken when he nears the fake shelves that hide his secret room. I keep watching as they walk in, close the door behind them, and turn on the red lights inside, revealing an assortment of instruments and props.

My feet start to itch as I mindlessly tap my fingers on the side of the laptop, impatience riddling me even though I know I have to give them a few minutes to make sure they’re deep into their play.

“Come on . . . come on . . .” I whisper.

“How long have they been in?”Dad asks as I chew on my lip.

“Four minutes.”

“Give them five more.”

The moment the man is butt naked, kneeling with his cheek stuck to the floor and legs spread by a bar, I know it’s time.

Fuck yes!

Fingers flying on the keyboard, I disable his entire home security system, cheeks pulling into a victorious smile when it’s all done.