Page 92 of The Perfect Divorce

“It didn’t go as planned though,” Alejandro adds. I think he’s just offering up information, stalling in hopes that I won’t pull the trigger.

“I guess you’re oh for two on that.” I smirk. “If you fucked up the first time, I’m surprised he’d hire you again.”

“Bob never knew how badly it went sideways.”

“What do you mean?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’ll tell you if you stop pointing that gun at my head.”

I respond to his request by driving the muzzle a little deeper into his temple, making him wince. “You’re not in a bargaining position. So, you’ll tell me, and then maybe, I’ll let you live.”

Beads of sweat start to form at his hairline. His eyes bounce again from the gun he’s holding against my naked body to my face and then to his peripheral view, where my pistol hasn’t moved. My pointer finger rests on the trigger with the smallest amount of pressure. A milligram more of added weight would cause the firing pin to strike and the bullet to surge through the barrel, plunging right into his brain. He’d be dead before he even had time to blink. My wall would get a new coat of red paint. And he knows that...

“Nearly fifteen years ago, Bob hired me to kill a woman named Jenna Way.”

“Well, I know you didn’t kill her,” I say.

“How?”

“Because I did, twelve years ago, in this very room.”

Alejandro’s eyes go wide. Maybe it’s shock or the realization that I’m more deadly than he is. Then they flicker with something else... passion, lust, desire. If I weren’t already undressed, he’d be undressing me with those eyes right now.

“Don’t act so surprised,” I say.

“I’m not. I’m impressed.”

“Bob clearly knew you failed at taking out Jenna, so what is it that he doesn’t know?”

“He’ll kill me if he finds out.”

“No, he won’t. That’s why he hires you.” I narrow my eyes. “But Iwillkill you if you don’t start talking.”

Alejandro sighs heavily, realizing he doesn’t have a choice. “I had breached Jenna’s house, and I was waiting for her to return home like she did at the same time every night. But she didn’t, not that night. She’d apparently gotten a flat tire, which set her back forty-five minutes. Instead, her husband arrived home first—Greg, Bob’s brother, earlier than usual too. Thinking it was Jenna, I pulled the trigger the second the front door opened, but the gun jammed. Greg heard it, and he came flying at me. He had seen my face, so I knew what I had to do. He fought hard, but I fought harder. I got the upper hand and plunged a kitchen knife right into his gut. I was going to make it look like a break-in gone wrong but decided I could stage it as a crime of passion instead, so I stabbed him over and over, and then I left the knife in his chest. I wiped down the handle, cleaned up evidence that anyone else had been there, and took off just as Jenna arrived home. He was taking his final breaths, still coughing on his own blood when I slipped out of there. Lucky for me, she panicked and pulled the knife from his chest, thinking she was helping him. But really, she accelerated his death and added evidence that would point to her as the murderer.”

I burst out in a manic laugh. “So, Bob killed his own brother?” I can barely get the question out because I find it far too comical.

“In a way, yeah. I told him I hadn’t gotten the opportunity to kill Jenna. So, when he found out his brother was dead, he thought she did it. Plus, all the evidence pointed to her.”

“But why’d he hire you to kill her in the first place?”

“Something about Jenna finding out what kind of shady shit he was up to. She threatened to tell the authorities if Bob didn’t fess up himself. Apparently, whatever she knew, it was enough to land him in prison, so Bob figured the only way to stop her from talking was to make sure she could never speak again,” he says.

I shake my head. “That’s pathetic.”

“It is.” Alejandro nods.

“Out of curiosity, how much did Bob offer to pay you to kill me?”

“Two hundred and fifty K.”

“I’ll pay you the same not to kill me.”

He raises a brow, staring into my eyes, determining whether I’m serious or not. He doesn’t really have a choice either way. He goes along with me, or he doesn’t go along at all. I’m sure he’s wondering why I’d offer him any money to begin with. I could just kill him for free. But that’s a far bigger mess than I want to deal with. Plus... my eyes skim over his chiseled body; he’s probably 220 pounds of solid muscle. And I don’t feel like spending my whole night trying to get rid of it.

Alejandro removes the gun from my abdomen and flips it around, extending it to me, handle first. “Deal.”

“Wise choice. But I’ll need a few other things from you as well.”

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