Page 14 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)
Wild
I scan the busy room, searching for my grandmother as I stifle my irritation.
Why the fuck did she demand I attend this circus of a charity event?
Crystal chandeliers hanging high above bathe the grand ballroom of another over the top opulent mansion in a warm, golden glow.
The scent of fresh roses, arranged in lavish bouquets on every table, mingles with the subtle aroma of gourmet hors d’oeuvres being passed around by impeccably dressed waitstaff.
I’d rather be back in the alley with a pistol pointed at my head than here.
Guests adorned in designer gowns and tailored tuxedos glide across the polished marble floor, their laughter and smiles reflecting the festive atmosphere.
I’m not buying it though. The shady business deals, marriage contracts, games where lives—some innocent, others not so much—are forfeit, all go down at an Umber gala.
It’s a high society glittering smoke screen.
The women’s dresses shimmer under the light, a cascade of sequin and silk, while the men’s cufflinks catch the eye with understated elegance.
I force myself to leave my cufflinks alone.
This constricting tux is way too fucking formal.
Two years undercover taught me jeans, sleeveless Henley’s and boots suit me.
Like a rough and tumble second skin. My hair sits on my head, wrapped up in a neat bun.
A silent jab at my grandmother’s controlling nature.
Sinski has been on my ass to cut it soon, too.
A smattering of applause draws my attention to the stage at the far end of the room.
Two couples twirl and gyrate to a Latin beat, in some mockery of ‘Dancing with the Stars’.
The dark-haired guy, who has shed his jacket and opened the front of his shirt to his navel, is none other than famous billionaire Stone Blackwell. The performance piques my interest.
The man surely has more money than rhythm, although his hot partner swirling around him like a sultry goddess is surely helping them garner the affection of the audience.
His connection to both the criminal element and a power player at Umber is not lost on me.
Or anyone else, for that matter. Every person in this room knows him, and everyone in the city knows of him , most wanting to know him better.
He spins and twirls his partner around the stage, quickly outshining their competitors. The music crescendos as he twirls her into a dramatic final dip, but he somehow trips her on the way back into his arms and she hits the ground. Hard and unflattering.
With a laugh at the woman’s squeal of outrage, I turn away as he pleads his case, trying to help her from the floor and spot Grandmother speaking with two of Umber’s higher-ups and their guests.
They’re having what appears to be a deeply engaging conversation.
Their clinking of champagne glasses fills the air, helping to create a symphony of elegance and sophistication.
Not my scene. She side-eyes me as I walk past on the way to the bar, and excuses herself from the group.
She grabs two glasses of champagne and stalks after me.
Knowing I don’t have a prayer of escaping her when she’s on a mission, I turn and accept the champagne she thrusts into my hand with a fake smile.
“It’s about time you showed your face,” she says, her voice low and filled with a coldness most mistake as an unrelenting hardness as usual.
It’s more of a hard-won strength. She clawed her way to the top of Umber, killing her own husband to achieve her goal of running the conglomerate.
The steely reserve she holds herself to is what got her through the murder of her son and his wife—my parents—and having to take out my grandfather’s entire family.
Including the hidden wife and kids she found out about once grandfather killed my parents to make way for his other son to take over Umber when he retired.
Her sacrifices for me are a big part of why I allow her so much influence on my life.
I’ll do anything for her because she’s already done everything for me.
Esther Wilder may be a harsh, controlling badass who takes no prisoners, but she’s never given me reason to doubt she loves me and wants the best for me.
I give her a questioning grimace as I scope out the room, searching for familiar faces.
“I don’t believe for a moment you questioned my compliance.”
Grandmother cocks an eyebrow while barely raising her silk-covered shoulder in an elegant shrug and takes another sip of her drink.
“Auntie, you look beautiful tonight,” Colton says as he steps close to kiss her finely wrinkled cheek.
Colton ignores me, which is his habit when we’re not at work.
With a shit-eating grin that reflects in his brown eyes, he steps back, making room for his older brother to greet her as well.
The other man, dressed in the mandatory tux, runs a hand over his slicked back hair—which has so much product in it, one can’t tell what color his hair is—and gives me a shitty glance as a greeting.
“Esther,” Zephyr says, giving her air kisses like the jackass he is. At least his thin lips don’t actually touch her.
Grandmother smiles, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement.
Which scares me or rather makes me go on high alert.
She’s up to something, and it’s probably something she cooked up with her best friend since childhood, Sylvia.
The Merrick brother’s grandmother has been conspiring with mine for decades, and the results are diabolical.
“Hello, boys. Thank you for coming.”
Zephyr laughs, something I suspect he means to be charming, but sounds like a fucking braying donkey.
I’ve hated these two since we were children, a sentiment that’s mutual.
She won’t admit it, but grandmother was definitely behind Colton being assigned as my partner in the Bureau.
And it pisses me off to no end. I’m certain he blew my cover and I’m damn sure going to kill him for it.
Which means I’ll have to take out Zephyr too.
Whatever, what’s not to like about two fewer assholes in the world? I just have to pick the perfect time.
“Now, Auntie, you know we’d do anything to make you happy.”
“You’re such good boys,” she says as if they aren’t cold, hard killers, just like her and many of the people in this room. I’m certainly not the only one here plotting the demise of someone irritating.
With a smirk, Zephyr turns to me. “Unfortunately, Bennie, she can’t say the same about you. I heard someone blew your cover. Maybe being an FBI agent just isn’t in your wheelhouse.”
His brown eyes lock onto mine. His smirk melts into a knowing smile.
Maybe it wasn’t Colton who was the fucking snitch, but either way, they both have a limited amount of time to make stupid comments.
I merely snort softly in amused dismissal.
They think I’m a spoiled moron who doesn’t know my ass from a hole in the ground.
And I’ve always let them. Until tonight.
I affect a thoughtful demeanor, become serious and nod.
“Yeah, someone blew my cover. Did me a favor, really.” Letting my voice match my stony stare, I continue.
“I’ve uncovered evidence the same rat also murdered Janie Willis.
” I turn to Colton, lips curving in just a hint of a smirk.
“You’ll be glad to know I’ve asked the FBI to reopen the case since she was your high-school sweetheart. ”
The three of them freeze in place for a second before my grandmother glances around to see if anyone overheard us.
“Bennett, I thought you made that go away,” Grandmother says, a sharp edge to her hushed voice.
Giving her my most innocent face, I say, “You also taught me to always have an ace in the hole.”
“Not against family, Bennett,” she grits out, through the fake smile plastered across her face, as a fire igniting in her blue eyes.
Too classy to make a scene here, she’ll find some fucked up way to teach me a lesson about not following orders, but I’ll manage through it. I always do.
My eyes flick between the brothers. “They’re not family, grandmother.”
Before they can respond, the atmosphere shifts. The event host clears his throat into a mic, and all eyes shift to the stage to witness the mischievous glint in his eye.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special surprise for you tonight,” he announces. “An auction to win dates with the most eligible bachelors in the room.”
I glance back, bracing for grandmother’s verbal assault in response to the bombshell I just dropped. Instead, a look of pure satisfaction takes over her face, and my stomach drops at the devious glint in her eye.
“Grandmother, what have you done now?” I mutter under my breath.