Page 12 of Kingpin

I whipped around, clutching the tomato-covered knife tightly in my hand. I hadn’t heard Israel even walk into the room, much less announce himself. His steel eyes held mine as he looked at me with a confused wrinkle on his brow. As if he didn’t understand why the fuck I almost peed myself.

“My schedule is very full. Don’t wait up for me,” he said.

I blinked. “Don’t you want to eat lunch first?”

His eyes darted aimlessly around the food before shaking his head.

“No. I don’t.”

I clutched the knife tightly in my hand, wanting more than ever to put it in his stomach. Maybe then, he’d learn a bit of respect. Instead, I jammed the sharp tip into the cutting board and released it. I knew damn good and well that if I hung on to it any longer, he’d be dead by my own hand.

And not for the reasons my uncle specified.

“So, you don’t want me to—”

He held up his hand before plucking an apple from the fruit basket. He bit into it before his eyes drifted to my sandwich, and I saw him wrinkle his nose. Then, he was off. Down the hallway without a sound to his footsteps. All I heard was him crunching on that stupid apple before the elevator dinged in the living room.

“I should ding you upside your head,” I murmured.

I sighed as I turned and looked over the feast I had created for him. Well, at least I had lunch for the next few days. I set my sights on cleaning up the kitchen and putting everything into Tupperware containers I found. After the kitchen was spick-and-span once again, I made my way back upstairs before kicking off my heels.

I reached for my cell phone and decided to check my bank account. Not my personal one, of course, but the one my uncle had set up under my assumed name, Brianna Moretti. I thought about my cousin and how she’d been holed up in a bungalow in Hawaii the entire time. I wondered if she was enjoying herself. Or if she was itching to get home. I wondered if my uncle was communicating with her at all, or if Hawaii was keeping her occupied.

I’d love to see Hawaii someday.

I sat on the edge of the sprawling bed and faced the bright afternoon of Chicago. As the sun graced my face, my fingers flew across the screen. I’d have to be ever-vigilant about where Israel was at all times. Especially if he didn’t make a sound when he traveled on his own two feet. I peered over my shoulder just to make sure before I opened the account. Even though I expected there to be money in it, I didn’t understand just how much would be in there.

“Four hundred grand?” I hissed.

Then again, it wasn’t as if Israel had given me a way to access his money.

Or any money, for that matter.

My eyes panned up as my phone fell into my lap. I stared out over the top of Chicago, gazing towards the horizon. How peaceful it looked out there. How unbothered by life it seemed. I was almost certain Brianna was enjoying herself in Hawaii. Carefree and free-spirited, as she had always been. My heart ached for her. I missed her more than I could stand. But, as the tinted windows caught the reflection of the open bathroom door, I saw that black lingerie hanging off the counter.

An idea entered my mind.

If I can’t entice Israel with my cooking, I’ll do it with my body.

I shot up from the bed and slipped back into my heels. If I had four hundred grand at my disposal to spend, then I could spend it on some of the finer things in life. Sexy lingerie. Peekaboo dresses. Thigh-high boots that would make any man salivate. By the end of the week, I’d have Israel in my bed. I’d perform that traditional champagne-pouring ceremony, and I would have him beneath my body.

I rummaged around the luggage for my purse and slid my phone inside the leather compartment. After plucking my favorite jacket out from the confines of the suitcase, I started out of the room, heading straight for the elevator. Just because Israel didn’t want me to wait up for him didn’t mean I had to stay here. Cooped up in some ivory tower with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs.

I’d treat myself to some fun little articles of clothing.

Clothing that would easily translate to Bora-Bora after all was said and done.

7

Bonnie

I ranmy hand over the barely there string bikini before I plucked it off the rack. One of the things I knew how to do well was shop, and not just spend money. I knew by the size, look, feel, and cut of a dress whether or not it would suit me. That meant I never had to squeeze myself into one of those dressing rooms. Still, I indulged in it when other people were with me.

No one was with me that day.

I pushed away the hurt from the afternoon. Because honestly, I still wasn’t sure why it hurt. I mean, the job wasn’t to fall in love with the man and create a family together. The job was to, well, kill him. Every time I thought about me, my mouth ran dry. Every time my brain reminded me of my promise to my uncle, my fingers began trembling. It was as if my body knew something it hadn’t clued my brain or my heart into yet. Fortunately, shopping helped to settle my mind.

Until I walked out of my third store of the day.

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