Page 77 of Goldsin

Without moving an inch, I stay waiting, my eyes glued to both of them.

It doesn’t take long for the effects to take place. Justwhen my feet are starting to cramp in the heels, the sound of silverware clattering reaches me.

Marcus is about to excuse himself from the table when the bodyguard whispers in his ear and bolts out of the restaurant. Not to the bathroom, where Marcus’s fast steps are taking him.

Thank God.

The weight of all the unease and anticipation finally lifts. I was so certain they’d both go to the restroom together, but lucky for me, Marcus is a traditional boss: the employee and the employer can’t share the same restroom.

Poor man. He’s probably running around the street searching for a public restroom right now.

Marcus rushes past me, and I lean closer to the wall, making sure he doesn’t see me. But I can see him perfectly—the way his face is a shade paler and how his hand clutches at his lower belly. His steps are clumsier the more he hurries.

When the restroom door closes I follow behind him, making sure no eyes are on me. Slipping through, I lock the door behind us.

He’s inside one of the stalls. Grunts fill the otherwise silent room while I lean against the sink and wait.

I stretch my fingers, cracking them at the knuckles.

Spiking the Key lime pie with laxatives was a bit childish, but God, how exhilarating it is to know I’ve humiliated him. Sometimes death feels like the easy way out. And having him found with shit in his pants? That’s priceless. Fitting, really. Especially for dirt like him.

The stall door opens, and the shadow of a tall figurefalls over me. His thick eyebrows wrinkle as he gives me a once-over.

“Can I help you?”

“I think you can.” I place a hand on my hip, the action pulling at the corner of his mouth. His eyes sparkle with something close to hunger.

Disgust pushes its way up my stomach.He thinks I’m willingly flirting with him.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Have we met before?” He takes a step closer to me.

Then, as if remembering what he just did, he steals a fast look over his shoulder. Maybe he’s checking to see if he left a mess, or perhaps he’s just sniffing to decide if I can figure out what he did from the smell.

The answer is yes.

When he turns back to me he scratches his chin. “You seem familiar.”

Deciding to play with him a bit, I say, “Maybe I remind you of yourself, Dad.”

I laugh at the way his face contorts.

“Or maybe you remember my mother—Lucian’s little gift?”

His face lights up before crumbling to the pit of the earth.

Oh, he remembers her well.

I let a wide smile curve across my face. “You never thought you’d see her again, did you?”

Realization creeps into his expression.

“Were you relieved to learn she killed herself? Why was that? Was she not good enough for your sick games?” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Becausenow I’m here in her place, ready to make you pay for all the suffering you caused her.” I pull out the gun, with the silencer in place. “Lost for words? Let me help you with that.”

I don’t even attempt to aim. Instead I squeeze the trigger. The bullet passes through his left knee. And just like I promised, the bastard heaves out a pained scream.

“That’s better, don’t you think, Marcus?”

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