way out, strangle a Senator, and throw a certain Brit over my shoulder to run away and fuck her brains out until she remembers nothing but me.
I’ll keep her there for the rest of time. If it’s against her will, so be it.
Pretty sure these are the things only madmen dream up and follow through on. The ones who get caught with their pants down end up in jail with docudramas made about them years later. If they’re lucky, they might get a whole Netflix series and FBI agents will spend careers psychoanalyzing them.
They might not be famous but they sure are infamous.
I don’t want to be either, so I need to get a handle on it. Watching a target barely lay a finger on Isabella Donnelly while she’s working shouldn’t send me into a murderous, angry-fuck mood.
But fighting a hard-on while she sashays her sweet ass away from me in that red dress, I’m thinking an angry fuck is just what the psycho ordered.
Whatever. If I’m the unbalanced one in this scenario, at least I know how to not get caught.
I pick up my double and follow my prey.
She glances at her ticket to find her seat before moving to a table at the north end of the room. It’s next to the exit and this is not a coincidence. I’m sitting straight across from her at the same table of eight. If we need to get out fast, we can.
She takes out her phone and pretends to scroll but I follow her eyes and she’s focused on the fuckwad who just dug his own grave by daring to touch her. He’s standing off to the side in the shadows, now arguing with a petite blonde. I squint because she looks familiar but I can’t place her.
They’re mostly hidden by fake trees set to the side of the stage but their tension is tangible, even from here.
The woman might be small but she’s mighty—when she pokes a finger into his chest, he takes a step back. They’re halfway across the ballroom but I can still see he’s surprised.
Shaken.
Different than the smug ass who was trying to figure out how to MacGyver his way into Bella’s barely-there dress with only a chocolate bar and a paperclip.
What the hell?
He runs a hand down his face and checks his watch before manhandling her by the shoulders. His lips are running a million miles a minute, spewing shit I’d really like to know.
I knew I should have learned how to read lips, dammit.
The woman shrugs him off and whips around, but he fists her bicep with a fierceness I sense from across the room. He looks around to make sure no one is watching and my eyes shoot to Bella, who’s now chatting on her cell as her gaze wanders. My guess—she’s talking to Asa and Jarvis, but through her bracelet. Not sure who else she’d call other than Gracie Cain to give her another shopping list and she’d never do that at a moment like this.
The blonde tears out of his grasp and marches away in her skintight dress. She caught a break because Randolph is approached by another man with a clipboard and earpiece. Before I know it, elevator music—boring enough to shoot me into a coma—fills the room and the three enormous screens spring to life with sweeping videos of the Florida Everglades. Waiters march in rows, balancing enormous trays, reminding me of the musicals Abbott forces me to watch on the Disney channel.
But the most interesting thing going on in the room is the petite blonde heading straight for Bella.
Shit.
Thank fuck I arranged to sit at the same table. This should be interesting. I throw back the rest of my whiskey and make a beeline for my one-thousand-dollar meal.
When I get to my dinner companions for the evening, my bedmate is across from my seat with an older couple separating us. The blonde is even grumpier up close and I’m itching to know how I know her. Three other men are settling in, and by the sound of it, they’ve been here awhile—halfway to drunk and all the way to annoying.
I pull out my chair. “Ladies, gentleman. Honored to be eating this overpriced meal with you.”
The older couple frowns. One of the single guys says, “Our company bought our chairs. Sucks if you had to shell out your own dough for this.”
Bella rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her full martini she’s been pretending to drink. When