Page 40 of Keep Me (Rebel Hearts Heists 2)
Doppelgänger
Pierce – Earlier that day ...
Ineed to stay calmI think as I look up at the almost sixty foot long whale skeleton that hangs above my head in the Oceanographic museum.
Sloane almost saw me the other morning at the hotel and for as much as I’d like nothing more than a tearful reunion with the love of my life—tearful because the second I have my hands on her, the little bitch is gonna cry, begging for my forgiveness—I have to wait and bide my time for my master plan to come to fruition.
So in the end, I won’t just get the girl, I’ll bestow a painful death to all my enemies and deliver VDB and Kronin to the FBI, earning a promotion. There’s only one way this can end and it’s with my victory, so I can’t squander the advantage of ‘being dead.’
I look at my watch and scan the room again but I don’t see her: this is her first strike. Punctuality is of the utmost importance in life. God knows how many times I’ve had to try to teach Sloane that lesson.
A class of middle school students storms into the room, making a lot of noise. Fuck I hate kids, they’re such an inconvenience. I shoot the teacher an annoyed glare, she’s useless if she can’t keep those heathens under control.
I’m about to check the app for the umpteenth time just in case she canceled but that’s when I spot her entering the room. For a second my heart stops:it’s Sloane. She’s here.
But when she comes closer, I see how she’s all wrong. Her eyes are a dark brown not Sloane’s jade green and her nose is the wrong shape. But other than that, from far away and from behind, she could totally pass for Sloane. I spent days scouting all the main escort services for a girl that looked like the love of my life and she’s as close as I’ll ever get.
“Bonjour, je suis Corinne.” I walk her to the museum’s cafe and notice how she doesn’t move with Sloane’s same innate grace.
“You’ll do,” I say after evaluating the small mole on the side of her upper lip. That can be covered with makeup but if she’s even remotely good at following instructions, Vance and his buddies will never get close enough to know that Corinne isn’t Sloane. Corinne is just a decoy, so that I can grab my little bitch and disappear with her into the night.
“Alors?” The woman asks arching a perfect brow.
“Yes you’re suitable for my needs, Corinne. Your nose is wrong but the rest will just do. Finish your coffee and let’s go, we have some shopping to do.”
My words make her bristle, her eyes flash with indignation. “What do you mean that my nose is wrong?” she says with a strong French accent.
I make a generic comment about preferring more ‘aristocratic features’ but don’t elaborate any further. I think the less she knows, the better. The eye color can be fixed with contacts. I consider making her get plastic surgery to fix that nose, but the wedding is a day from now, so there wouldn’t be enough time for her to heal.
“Shopping?” she asks, suddenly interested.
“Yeah. Today is just a preliminary meeting. I need you to be my date at a wedding tomorrow and we need to get you just the right dress,” I explain.
The same dress Sloane will be wearing. I’ll also watch when her and Alicia have their rehearsal with the hairdresser and makeup artist, so I can make sure that we’re as close as possible. Corinne gives me a little smile that isn’t coy enough for Sloane. All wrong.
“D’accord. Are we going shopping now?” I nod. I paid for the whole night, so we’ll have time to get everything we need. We walk out of the museum and into the parking garage where I help Corinne into my rental Ferrari.
For a second, as I drive to Nice to the atelier where Alicia got the dress Sloane is supposed to change into once the wedding ceremony is over, I feel as if she were her. As if I were driving with Sloane sitting by my side, like it should be. The fantasy feels even more real as I drive through a tunnel and in the dim lighting, she looks identical to my fiancée.
Corinne doesn’t have an ounce of the class that my Sloane has, something I’ve noticed throughout our time together, but I still decide to drive back to the villa VDB rented for me a few minutes away from the resort. She tried to get me to buy her more designer stuff than what we were there for but at the end of the day, what was I expecting from a prostitute? She might work for a high-end agency but a hooker is always a hooker.
I open the car door for her and usher her inside the house, keeping up the pretense that we’re out on some kind of date and that I don’t own this bitch for the rest of the night.
“So Pierce, what do you want to do with the rest of our time? Do you want to tell me more about this wedding we’re going to or do you want to use the night for something a little more … agréable?”
I look at the woman in front of me. The light in the room is rapidly receding as the sun has almost completely set and again, in the semi-darkness, she could be her. I was going to give her instructions about how to get in touch with me for her hair and makeup and where to meet me to go to the wedding and call her a car.
Then I would have gone to fuck my Sloane replica sex doll but coming to think of it … Why use the doll when with the right adjustments, she can feel almost like the real thing?
“All right. Let’s see what you have to offer,” I say gesturing toward her silk wrap dress and nodding in approval when she opens it and lets it slide down her body.
Her tits are slightly smaller than Sloane’s but it doesn’t really matter. Not for what I want to do. She takes a step closer, reaching out to touch my face and—
“What the fuck are you doing? Kissing is off the table. On your knees,” I command unzipping my slacks and taking out my hard cock. “Open wide,” I instruct, nudging her mouth with the head of my dick.
When she complies, I grab a fistful of her hair and push deeply into her mouth. She makes a slight gagging noise but that only makes me push harder. A twenty grand a night professional, should at the very least know how to give decent head.
And Corinne doesn’t disappoint, taking me deeper into her throat and I get into a steady rhythm until she meets my eyes. No. This is all fucking wrong. Her brown eyes aren’t the ones I want to see streaming with tears while I fuck her mouth. If she looks at me, the illusion of having my Sloane back is completely shattered.
