Pretty Sinner (The Oligarchs) - Page 5

“We’re not all sex-starved nymphos like you.” Penny sat on her bed cross-legged and stared intently at her covers. “And how do you know that’s what he wants?”

“Boys like Kaspar only want one thing, and it’s not platonic friendship. He wants to fuck you, Pen.”

She blushed and kept avoiding eye contact. “He’s creepy. It’s like I have a stalker.”

“He’s the most popular boy on campus. You know a thousand girls would throw themselves at his feet for the chance to suck his toes, right?”

“God, you’re gross.”

“I’m only saying, loosen up and have some fun. Fuck him and enjoy it.”

I didn’t add, while you can, bitch.

She only shook her head and collapsed back against her pillows. She burrowed into her covers and seemed to try to go to sleep.

I stayed up reading a bit longer, watching her.

Penny Servant. Pretty, naive, nice little Penny.

I didn’t understand what a wolf like Kaspar saw in a lamb like Penny. Maybe he had a soft spot for the weak.

I had no such feelings.

My life began in misery. Parents dead in some freak traffic accident. I survived in my little car seat, a mewling baby girl splashed with blood. After that, I bounced around from one pair of foster parents to the next, inevitably doing something bad without realizing before they gave me up, until I landed with Maeve.

She changed my life.

It wasn’t easy. She wasn’t kind or gentle. When I made a mistake around her, I got punished for it—severely enough that even I learned how to pass.

She helped me hide what I was. Helped me learn how to control my impulses enough to survive.

But that would only get me so far.

There was a big, wide world out there, and Maeve promised it to me—so long as I obeyed her wishes.

That worked for me. I didn’t give a damn what she wanted me to do, so long as it involved lots of screaming and pain.

I was her tool. I was her razor blade.

She directed my worse impulses into useful directions while keeping me safe from repercussions.

Now I had my hardest mission to date—and my most rewarding.

Kill Penny Servant. Make it bloody.

Make a statement.

I switched off the light. “Goodnight, Pen,” I whispered.

“Night,” she whispered back.

3

Penny

Present Day

Rome, Italy

The basement is dank with humidity. The tiles were crumbling and mold blossomed along the wall. Three men sat across a metal table from Kaspar, each of them covered in tattoos and muscles, and barely restrained by their overly tight suits.

I lingered toward the stairs, completely ignored. The discussion was in Italian, which I didn’t speak. Upstairs, more people moved around—cooks, waitresses, patrons, and others. The restaurant was cute, family owned, and smelled incredible.

Down here, it was like we were in another world.

“Enough,” Kaspar said suddenly, slamming a hand down. The men grimaced, but nobody moved as Kaspar stared them down. “I will not risk my plans for your vanity.”

The man in the middle, older than the other two with graying hair at his temples and a long scar splitting his lower lip, said something in Italian. He didn’t sound happy.

“English, Santo.”

Santo glanced at me then spread his hands. “What you ask will be difficult. Blood will be spilled.”

“That’s the point.”

“You do not understand. We work to, ah, avoid certain things. Too much killing is bad, yes?”

“Right now, I need more killing.” Kaspar leaned toward Santo. “Are you beginning to regret our current arrangement?”

Santo stared back at him then slowly shook his head. “No, I am not.”

“Good. Kill them and be done with it. I’ll give you two days.” Kaspar stood up and stared at Santo. “If you do not follow my orders, you know what will happen.”

The threat was obvious, if a little heavy-handed. I wondered if Kaspar was so used to getting his way that he didn’t bother with subtlety.

Santo merely nodded and gestured his assent. “As you wish.”

Kaspar walked to me and offered his arm.

I ignored him and headed up the stairs.

He followed. We stepped out into the kitchen. He guided me toward the back door and out into the alley. It was a comfortable night, the breezing billowing down the narrow, chaotic alleys, and Kaspar strode off.

I had to hurry to keep up, but my eyes swept all around. Rome was a maze of small streets with no central planning. It grew up organically and spontaneously over thousands of years, and that meant there were a thousand different ways to get lost.

And even more to escape.

I nearly ran into Kaspar. He stopped walking and stared down at me with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t bother.”

I sucked in a breath to steady myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You think I don’t notice you staring around like you can’t wait to make your escape?” He grabbed my arm tightly and leaned his lips closer. “There’s a reason you’re in a dress and heels. Good luck running. I’ll catch you and you won’t like the punishment.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Billionaire Romance
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