Joseph smirks at the both of us but is distracted easily by a waitress as she walks past. He asks her to bring him a cutter for his cigar. She hurries off into the crowd and appears a few minutes later with one. He cuts it and lights up. Lorcan tries his hardest to pull me away in the lull, but I’m not running anywhere with my tail between my legs. Everyone seems to be shit scared of him. I’m fucking not.
The waitress hovers, unsure what to do. “Sir, you can’t smoke—”
“Piss off,” he says to her. “I bet you heard how much my son is worth and you want a piece, am I right?” he says, hooded eyes trying to drill holes in my facade.
“Joseph,” Lorcan warns.
“How old are you?” he continues between puffs, another meaningless question directed to me. I force myself not to react to the smoke when he blows it in my face. I contemplate grabbing his cigar and putting it out in his eye, if no one else will tell him he can’t smoke inside the hotel, I will.
“Age, now,” he snaps, clicking his fingers. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”
“Seventeen,” I say sweetly. Obviously that’s a lie. I’m going to enjoy ending this one. I’m a little pissed that I have to make it look like an accident, if I’m honest. Rich prick. I might have to get a little inventive.
He leaves us alone after that. I bide my time, sipping champagne, people watching as they come up to Lorcan to greet the potential heir of the Duke fortune.
Midway through the party when Lorcan is taking a piss, Saskia replenishes my drink, and palms the keycard to her fathers penthouse suite into my hand as she leans in for a cheek to cheek kiss.
“Two five nine,” she says in my ear, and then I’m on my own.
As I down the rest of my champagne, Lorcan’s arm circles around my waist. “Fuck this night. Let’s go upstairs,” he drawls in my ear as one hand slips down the front of my dress. He obviously doesn’t give a damn about decorum.
I don’t either, but fuck…I have a job to do.
“Not yet,” I say. “I think Saskia needs you. She was looking for you earlier.” It’s the right thing to say. He draws back with a sigh. His eyes are slightly unfocused from drinking alcohol as they travel up and down my body.
“Don’t go anywhere. I want to be buried balls deep inside you as soon as fucking possible.”
I wait until he’s out of view to slip out of the party and into the main reception. His words have given me a new lease of life. All I have to do is find the angle, and then let Lorcan fuck away all my anger.
Rule number four—find the angle as soon as possible. Every mark has a weakness, a chink in their armour, their Achille’s Heel. Once you find it, planning their sudden demise won’t be so difficult.
Thank you Dante for training me so fucking well.
In the main reception, there are three elevators. I take the one that goes all the way to the penthouse and enter Joseph’s suite using the keycard Saskia gave me. I take out a pair of gloves and work quickly. It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for.
In the bathroom, neatly arranged in lines are several pre-filled pens of insulin. So Joseph is diabetic. Saskia never mentioned it, which is surprising. Still, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to slip something extra into his veins. More insulin maybe? There’s a fast acting version of the drug, if I can get hold of it. A higher dose overnight will send someone into a coma, or even death.
And the added bonus is, it’s virtually undetectable. Even if his blood levels are found to be usually high, it’s not much of a stretch to deduce he took an incorrect dosage.
I quickly check everything is left how I found it, dispose of my gloves, and leave.
But I don’t get back to the party.
Lorcan is sitting outside the suite, watching me exit. His eyes are dark pools as he blinks at me.
My body reacts by flooding my senses with adrenaline. Fight or flight kicks in, and my heart skitters in my fucking chest. Focus Viola. Calm yourself the fuck down. It’s Lorcan. He’s not going to try and hurt you.
I hope not anyway. Mouth drier than dirt, I smile at him as he leans back on the sofa opposite the doors, one arm along the backrest, one leg propped by the ankle resting over the thigh of the other. “You know, Saskia is a shit liar. Unlike you.”
My eye twitches, and my hand flutters to my thigh. Trust is such a fragile word. “Are you going to stop me?” No point in beating around a bush, so I’ll just come out and say it.
Lorcan’s eyes narrow as he inclines his head. “I’ve been wondering if I should or not.”
“And?”
He snorts and gets to his feet. He walks toward me until he’s millimetres away, and drags me back into the suite since the door is still open.
“Joseph likes this hotel because it’s the only one that can cater to his tastes.”