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“I do believe Miss Luxury has positively influenced your brother.” Burt blinks repeatedly, and I follow suit, which segues into a chin-wagging about how I treat women in general.

My silence gives the little wanker the audacity to say I never took up forhim. Still learning how to bloody exhale since catching up with Luxury, I allow his ranting. Graham is still in the dark about how many hits I took to the bloody face on his behalf as a kid. Now, he’s an entitled tosser.

Positive impression my arse. Luxury molded a monster. As I sip my tea, I slowly place Ellen in my memory.

His friend.

Sweet?My arse.

Innocent? The cunt didn’t recall the day. Nevertheless, Graham’s intrusion has struck a delicious chord I thought I’d satiated. I crowned Luxury in my glory. I still feel my hands coating her lovely skin in my cum. Impending release implied. I see now, that was not to be the case.

I tell Graham to clean up and go home then head to Brooklyn, yet again, to protect Luxury.

It seems I’ll be here indefinitely. I must locate Fuyoung and decide if Whitson’s anonymous grim reaper had become impatient and requested a second assassin. Or had the leaders at X-Member become privy of my reluctance?

That seems doubtful, though. Perhaps they have some sort of algorithm, which detects a change in human behavior. Assuming I’ve reneged on my assignment. However, I’ve been known to toy with my prey for a week or two.

It’s the wanker after Whitson. Must be.

My eyes are mesmerized by Lux’s ass as she walks down the street so early in the morning. I’m close enough behind her to burn in a fire of jealousy as the person on the other end of the ringer suggests a dinner date. While approaching the top step of a dance studio, Luxury casts a glance over her shoulder for the first time.

My lovely Little One’s oblivious as ever while stepping inside. I stroll to a toy store across the street, pick up a trinket, watch Luxury, repeat.

“Shite.” I hang my head as Fuyoung sashays inside the women’s only gym.

After the class, a swarm of females in every shape and size hurry out of the studio. Holding a brown paper bag of my absentminded purchases, I monitor for their exit. Luxury’s not alone. She’s in the company of a Jamaican woman. Fuyoung looks my way and wiggles her eyebrows. Retrieving a cellphone, she pretends to be engrossed in a chat while following the insensible women.

I put on a pair of sunglasses and a new Yankee’s cap, rounding off the convoy, stalking a few clicks behind. The Jamaican supplies the proper seasonings for herfamousoxtails, which I’m to presume are edible.

It’s a fucking shame they all seem so comfortable with people like Fuyoung and me surveilling the area. As they walk through a newly constructed park, Fuyoung’s pace slows.

“Hello, Vic.”

I’m still jarred to the fucking core, though I don’t show it. An enemy of mine is cognizant of my first name. I must presume that Suyoung texted her sister while we were having drinks. Her fingers walk the sharp of my jawline as I glare at her in contempt. “Thank you for all you’ve accomplished, Victor.”

“Thank me?” I stand rigidly, aligning myself with Fuyoung’s every move.Be patient, Vic. First, confirm all she knows about you, X-Member, and this assignment. Then the cunt’s dead.

“Su would go after any and every mark who came our way. You,” she purrs, “I’ve watched you for a while, quite envious of your ability to read between the lines. Cull the elementary marks, only to seize assignments that would place you in danger. One could say you have a death wish.”

An eyebrow lifts. “Is that a challenge?”

She edges onto her tippy-toes, pressing her lips to my taut snarl. “Not at all. I notice you often decline certain assignments, favoring the ones requiring precision. Nevertheless, I’ve the feeling the dainty little teacupmust’ve influenced you. You were once so stoic, so sexy, the ultimate assassin. I’m sure you will be missed.”

“Missed,” I chuckle. “Where the fuck am I headed off to?”

Fuyoung casts a glance around the busy park. “You aren’t wearing your watch with itsuniquecapabilities. Are you armed?”

“No.”

“Oh, look at you. So confident. Your face says,I’m all man.As if that indicates a gun isn’t necessary.”

My mouth cocks to one side.

“Even still, you outweigh me by a hundred pounds?”

“Easy.” Two-twenty, pure muscle.

She chuckles, knowing exactly what I’m implying. How easy it would be to put this little temptress out of her misery.


Tags: Amarie Avant Duke of Tudor Romance