Page 5 of Kill for a Kiss

The warmth of his body against mine is unnerving, and yet, I feel a strange sensation to stay. I can sense his strength, his control. And my body is yielding to it, tohim. He’s the only thing in this moment, the only thing in the world. Everything else around us blurs. The wind, the waves, Kaye and Damon. They all fade away, lost in the shadows cast by his mask and the air swirling heat between us.

Then I realize with a start that I’ve stopped fighting altogether. I’m no longer struggling. My body has gone slack, pliant in his hold. His arms tighten slightly, pulling me even closer, like he’s claiming me, dragging me into a world where nothing else matters. Like that thread from earlier—the one pulling me forward—was wrapped around my waist all along.

His voice comes back, smooth and steady. “Good girl.”

A shiver shakes through me, deep and unsettling. The praise settles over me.

I can’t move. I don’t want to, even as he drags me backwards, pulling me further from where Kaye and Damon still lie together in the fading light. Their world has ceased to exist for them. I wonder if that’ll be the same for me, if anyone will notice when I’m gone.

The grass beneath my feet is slick, as he drags me away, my legs too weak to hold myself upright after everything. But I don’t fight him. I can’t at the moment. Instead, I close my eyes. And I wonder, fleetingly,who would find me?

2

Sterling

An hour earlier

Big Sur, California. August 8. 2000 hours. Weather: 68 degrees Fahrenheit, clear skies. Humidity high but manageable. Visibility excellent. Entry and exit points open. All personnel identified. Immediate threats detected: multiple.

They’reeverywhere. Including my family. And leave it to them tonotnotice me at a wedding they’re hosting at this haunted estate I grew up in.

Given, it’s my oldest brother’s property now, and no one can tell it’s me with how well I blend in at this damned wedding reception. One that unites my bloodline, the Song-Smiths, to the infamous Knights.

Both families hide in darkness despite such powerful names behind myths and legends that’s coursed through the criminal underworld for decades. All that corrupted power. All these years of blackmail and carnage.

Damon met Kayla only some hours ago, and they tied the knot practically right after meeting for the first time today. Typical of Damon to see her once and make the call. They’re each other’sproblem now. How fucking romantic.

A dominant, spoiled asshole with a firecracker rebellious mafiosa. Somehow they’re gonna try to make it work. For alliances, huh? How fucking ironic.

At the moment, I sit hidden among the thirty-six musicians in the orchestra, violin resting under my chin. Soon there’ll be one less. I already have my excuse. A missing violin string. A quick exit.Easy.

Before I make my move, my eyes wander. Armed guards at every corner. Worse guests enjoying their evening. This reception’s drowning in excess. No surprise there. My parents always knew how to dress up corruption and call it couture.

I roll my eyes. At least every hired hand wears a black mask. Can’t have us stealing the spotlight from the real thieves. It’s better this way. No one can see my face. If they could, they’d know exactly what I’m thinking.Fuck this place, and fuck my family too.

Every unnecessary excess is on display. Just to rub it in the guests’ faces, that the Song-Smiths finally formed an alliance with the Knights. Two dynasties, merging rot with rot under one roof.

Our family’s fortress crouches over the vineyard like it’s proud of the bodies buried beneath it. Perfect backdrop for corruption. Damon’s the lucky bastard who inherited the place. And I don’t know whether to sigh in relief or defeat. Either way, this family won’t get any reaction from me. I’m just a mercenary quietly thinning their guest list, paid well to do what I would’ve gladly done for free.

I dyed my silver-white hair black for this. Like I’ve done before to blend in. Like I always will. Long fringe hides my gray eyes. Sides cropped short to hear better. To react faster.

Beneath my jacket, the real me waits. The goblin mask. Carved deep red, twisted into a grin too sharp to be human. A face built to haunt, not be forgotten. Clo used to call me dokkaebi—goblin in the language she spat at me. She thought she was cursing me. She wasmakingme. My goblin mask is carved perfectly for me after years of figuring it out. Now it’s a face meant to unsettle. The sort of look that laughs at you as it sends you to your grave.

The song swells into a high note. I bow the violin with practiced ease, the music bleeding into the air. My pulse stays steady. My eyes burn as I keep staring, studying, and assessing. Despicable criminals sit at the head table. Suits crisp, smiles easy. But their hands are filth. Their deals are murder dressed in the finest fabric their dirty money could buy. But tonight is their last supper. And I’m the undoing they invited inside without even noticing.

If I could take my own family down, I would’ve years ago. But they’re too powerful. Too shielded with security. Too deep in the pockets of corruption. And too well-known not to cause consequences.

My hand tightens around the bow, my shoulders tense slightly, still moving with the music. We’re playingLe Carnaval des Animaux. The carnival of animals. Fitting. The cue in the music hits. That’s when I tilt my violin, fingers sliding the string free. The wire swiftly vanishes into my jacket.

I lift the instrument slightly. The first violinist catches the signal and scowls. Her urgent whisper follows. “Again? You really need a better luthier.”

“Next paycheck,” I lie with ease.

She groans, pinching her brow as if my absence is the gravest offense of the day. If only she knew. “Do you even know who we’re playing for?”

Yeah, I fucking know. It’s my fucked-up family. Does this idiot even knowwhohiredher? And who we’resurroundedby? Conniving criminals who wouldn’t blink an eye before killing her. Or paying someone like me to do it. Just for fun, if they wanted to. Just to prove they can.

She groans again. “Forget it. Make sure your empty chair isn’t obvious. Leave after you get rid of it.”