Page 26 of Conquered


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I wanted nothing more than to delve into her background, to learn every detail about her precious life.

The thought of deflowering her by introducing her to every scrap of my world, my needs, and my deep-seated desires kept me on edge and salivating the entire night. I’d barely gotten any sleep, finding it difficult to get through all the other drudgery the students had written. The only other story of interest was the daring one written by what appeared to be a good friend of my sinful assistant.

Josie Barker.

The girl Marcus was pining away for. How odd she’d selected a hunt done by her serial killer as the background. That was no coincidence.

So many of the students attending the university had at least one famous parent. That had afforded them the tuition, none of the girls and boys forced to take out a loan. It had amused me from the beginning since most acted entitled.

It was that sort of thing that turned children into criminals.

I smirked at the thought as I sped through town on my way to a corporate meeting. What troubled me about Josie’s piece wasn’t necessarily the subject material, our father’s former hunts, but the descriptions she’d used. As if she’d been there. Or perhaps someone she knew given her age. With her father being a senator and a former police chief, a man close with several prosecutors, it was entirely possible the man had been on the right side of the law, someone my father hadn’t managed to pay off or threaten into silence.

Josie had even alluded to the abuse suffered by myself and my two brothers. No one knew about that. Except for a single person. I’d made the mistake of telling a teacher something when I was very young.

I’d gotten the beating of my life after my father had found out. The teacher had suffered worse, dying in a tragic accident. But it had been ruled accidental nonetheless.

A horrible murder committed by one of my father’s goons.

I’d lost what had been left of my innocence and belief in the greater good that day. From that moment on, I’d shifted into a much darker place, one even my brothers didn’t know about. I’d become fascinated with death, not acting on my strange and perverse desires for many years to come, but I’d spent hours researching everything from the use of a knife to commit a crime to blood splatters, the effects of everyday poisons, and of course the use of guns in various scenarios. That’s one reason I not only had a collection of weapons that would rival any soldier, but also dozens of books on the subject of death.

Sighing, I made the last turn heading for the parking garage. I didn’t like that Josie had selected the story as her last hurrah. Either she’d been acting alone in her efforts to taunt me, or her father had put her up to it since our father’s disappearance had never been solved.

And it was highly doubtful it would ever be.

Not that anyone missed him, including his own children.

My thoughts drifted to the night of the last hunt my father had participated in. All three of his children had been gleeful in the decision we’d made collectively, painting our bodies with war paint like any good primal beast would do. We’d screamed our joy as we’d raced after him in the woods, cornering him more than once.

Our father had still been very strong, able to fight us off for longer than most of his victims. Which had in turn allowed us to inflict more harm on his aging body. My brothers had believed me, horrified at what had occurred, the younger baby brother needing to be protected. Little did they know I’d internalized the event, indulging in even darker fantasies, building my layered desires to kill again.

And again.

I’d perfected my methods, starting out slowly with little verve to the murder, but over time I’d become more creative. I’d also worked very hard not to have a label placed on me, but some smart detective had picked up on the fact I’d only killed those who’d attempted to or had abused a woman.

Hence the Angel of Death moniker.

After I’d heard it the first time, I’d smiled and reveled in it. Why not? I wasn’t entirely a bad man. Removing scum from the earth had its place in the world. I had a feeling the women involved would thank me, one after the other.

As I moved to my usual private parking space, my thoughts returned to the oh-so lovely Sara. Little did she know what she’d committed herself to, but her desire to obtain the job had also swayed me.

She was more like me than she was ready to admit. I could only imagine the joy of hunting down a perpetrator together. It would be the most glorious day of my life.

A smile had crossed my face, my decision to hire her the best one I’d made in a very long time, but she’d made it easy. As I climbed out, I scanned the parking lot as I always did when arriving at our corporate offices. Whether or not people believed our family consisted of nothing but bad seeds, devils disguised in Armani and Gucci suits, the fact we were one of the wealthiest companies in the world kept a target on our backs.

Given I refused to have soldiers protecting me on a daily basis, I knew I could be the first one taken out by a hired assassin. That only added to the excitement.

I did enjoy taking risks.

Grabbing my briefcase, I headed to the private elevator, which eliminated all those hoping to talk to me about getting a job with the company or even hoping to be considered for my next arm candy. All three of us had been listed as the most eligible bachelors in the city.

Until my two brothers had caved into the idea of love, getting themselves hitched. I liked the women they’d each determined was the one. I even enjoyed their company when necessary, but my idea of a partner had nothing to do with watching movies and making babies. I’d leave that to them.

As I stood in the steel box, I hated the fact my one true weakness had always been claustrophobia. There were reasons why, including my father’s particular method of punishing me. We’d learned the hard way never to show a single fear around our dad. He only exploited it to his benefit. Sighing, I did my best with the breathing exercises I’d taught myself but a single bead of sweat still slipped down my cheek.

Fuck it.

I’d won the battle of no longer fearing tight spaces.

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