Page 89 of Claimed By the Villain

That’s why Beau told me on the phone this one would matter to me: it concerned Jackie too.

The bastard put two and two together and realized she was the one who’d orchestrated Taylor’s rescue. He wanted to punish her for screwing up his life, and in doing so, he signed his own death warrant.

“I don’t want to die.”

I place one hand on my hip, only the back of it to keep from staining myself with blood, and watch the man who’s already dead but doesn’t know it yet.

“Then we’re at an impasse,” I say, choosing the perfect knife for what I’m about to do, feeling relatively good-humored because I know when I leave here, she’ll be waiting for me. “Because I really want to kill you. You could’ve spared yourselfpain. I’m a good man . . .No, scratch that. I’m not a good man, but I am a fair one. I would’ve given you a bullet. You wouldn’t even have known it had happened. You’d have fallen asleep and woken up in hell.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You missed your chance.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I don’t have just one name. I’ve been called many things, but since we’re saying goodbye, I think it would be rude for you to leave without an introduction. My birth name is Lucifer.”

“What?”

“Enough talking. Give my regards when you get to hell. I’ve got plenty of friends there.”

“Why do I have to die? Taylor’s safe.”

“This isn’t about Taylor anymore. It’s about Jackie. She’s mine. Nobody touches what’s mine.”

“You can have her. I don’t want that bit—”

A clean slash, ear to ear, and then my favorite color bursts forth: red.

I drop the knife and strip off the gloves. Then I stretch my body, a little sore from the excessive enthusiasm.

Finally, I can return to the island, take a shower, and then have dinner with my wife.

The woman the poor devil made the fatal mistake of even thinking about harming.

Chapter 47

Months Later

The waiting, like an endless search where I always end up slamming my face against a concrete wall, is driving me insane.

Beau is nicknamed the Ghost, since despite all the power he holds, he rarely shows himself in public. But the son of a bitch who wants to send me to hell is outdoing him.

No one, not Ruslan’s men, mine, Beau’s, nor the mercenaries I’ve hired, can find him.

The trip to Egypt for the contract, which was supposedly connected to him, turned up nothing.

What’s so fucking strange is that since Jackie’s attempted kidnapping, he hasn’t made another move.

Through our investigation, we managed to capture an image of the woman my wife described as the one who confronted her at the association. The day she went after Jackie, she fled the building and got into a black, unidentified sedan. We couldn’t find out anything more about the car.

Ruslan, through his contacts at the DMV, got images of the vehicle leaving Manhattan, but from there, the trail went cold.

An ordinary man, someone not used to death the way I am, might think the son of a bitch had given up.

I’m not an ordinary man.

I can see inside the mind of someone like me. I’d never give up on revenge.