Chapter One
All around her, jewelsglittered, dancing under the bright lights of the ballroom. Millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds and every other gemstone imaginable were draped around the necks of women who’d never had to work a day in their lives.
She should know, since she was one of them. At least on the surface.
Lifting a glass of champagne that wasn’t worth the two-thousand-dollar-a-bottle price tag to her lips, Amara Vitali let her gaze travel the room, searching for her date for the evening. Perhaps date wasn’t the most appropriate word, buttargethad such a negative connotation.
The overly tart champagne was half gone by the time she located him. Standing off to the side, surrounded by a group of men who just barely toed the line between polished and sleazy, Robert Grayson tossed his head back and laughed at whatever pithy joke one of his companions had just made.
Watching them was physically painful. A few women glided up to the group at times, and they were welcomed with seemingly chivalrous kisses to their dainty hands before being sent off again by whichever ‘gentleman’ they were currently attached to. The lewd, lingering glances that followed the women when they wandered away made her skin crawl. Luckily for her, it wasn’t long before the four glasses of whiskey Robert had downed in the past hour caught up to him, and he excused himself to the bathroom.
Although she was well-known to nearly every person in attendance, nobody stopped her as she slipped through the crowd behind him. Women who came from families like hers weren’t exactly welcomed into high society with open arms. Oh, they gladly accepted her family’s money for their charities and their schools and their investment firms, but they held her firmly at more than arm’s length.
Which was perfectly fine by her. God knew she’d be bored to tears inside an hour trying to live in their world. And maybe they were bored, considering the amount of Uncle Gio’s product everyone in this room consumed on a regular basis.
After checking that she wasn’t being watched or followed, Amara quietly slipped into the men’s bathroom. Robert stood in front of a porcelain piss station, emptying his bladder through a rather unimpressive dick. He glanced over when she entered, a greasy smile curving his thin lips.
“Ms. Vitali. What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”
Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back. She was a professional, after all. Letting her lips lift into her best ‘fuck me’ smile, she dropped her voice to a low purr. “I was hoping to get a moment alone with you tonight.”
The flaccid member in his hand lengthened a fraction at her words. “In the bathroom?” Despite his gaze lingering on her cleavage, the contempt was clear in his voice.
“People talk,” she replied, playing up to his view of her, that she wasn’t worthy of a man like him. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
Apparently done with his bladder, he stroked his cock with a large, meaty hand as she approached. Pressing her body against his, she ran a hand up his inner thigh. “Allow me,” she whispered.
When the needle pierced his femoral artery, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. But before he could cry for help, his body went rigid. She neatly sidestepped when he reached for her, letting him fall to the floor with a satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage. Not that he’d feel the broken nose for long, if at all. The dose of potassium chloride she’d just administered was enough to kill a man twice his size in under a minute.
Confident that he wouldn’t recover even if he were discovered within that minute, she stepped around the body and made her way to the second entrance. The one the staff used to come and go without being seen, because God forbid the wealthy and powerful be forced to actually set eyes on the people who cleaned up their messes. Just inside the hallway was a janitor’s closet. Giving thanks to whoever had decided cleaning supplies didn’t need to be kept under lock and key, she slipped into the cramped space and retrieved the backpack she’d stashed there that morning.
Another minute was all it took for her slip out of the slinky designer gown and needle-thin heels and into the black and white uniform with sensible sneakers worn by all of the hotel staff. With her short, jet-black hair tucked up under a baseball cap, she strode out of the closet, through the kitchens, and out the back door.
Checking the dainty, diamond-encrusted watch on her wrist, she grinned as she crossed the parking lot. Ten minutes from the time she’d stepped into the bathroom to the moment she waltzed out the door. A personal best.
Now that she was out of immediate danger, she let the excitement she’d held at bay flood her. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, sending her heart racing. God, there was nothing like the high from taking a life, especially someone as deserving as Robert Grayson had been.