Page 36 of Watching Her

I’d waited, ensuring that my instincts hadn’t been wrong. I’d even considered stepping in, handling the situation myself. I’d been pleasantly surprised at Penelope’s ingenuity in grabbing the corkscrew and her tenacity in using it.

The chair had been utter perfection.

A girl after my own heart.

However, she had no clue how dangerous the man or the situation was. But I did. Men with too much money, power, and no one to rein them in were often the most dangerous.

To think she’d believed the bastard has sent the card to the table. I almost laughed. What a fucking joke. However, that allowed me to realize our game, our toxic contest was in full swing. We’d used the card trick before, more than once. And every time it had added to the tantalizing dance. Although my possessiveness of her added to the level of rage toward the asshole.

He’d taken steam out of our gesture. Well, fuck him.

I waited, watching him limp his way back to the hotel and to his room, biding my time enjoying a scotch in my room while the festivities died down and most people throughout the hotel either left or had gone to their rooms.

With the area quiet and no one to bother me, I stuffed gloves into my pocket along with the syringe I’d filled with the perfect concoction of poison.

Now, if I were on my home turf, I wouldn’t use such a pedestrian method, preferring to inflict even more pain than the serum would allow. However, I also wasn’t in the mood to take any risks.

Even for the beautiful Penelope.

As I got off on his floor, I took my time heading down the corridor. Just before I reached his door, I slipped on the gloves. With owning the hotel, I could easily get into any room. How funny I’d decided I would leave my prize alone to enjoy her last night, refusing to invade her privacy while having no issue with entering the douchebag’s suite.

Once inside, I wasn’t surprised a light had been left on. Nor did I care if he saw my face. Within seconds after the injection, his muscular structure would be paralyzed, which would give him time to regret his decisions and repent.

If he survived, he should consider himself winning the lottery.

He wouldn’t survive.

My methods were foolproof, taught to me by my father.

I found him passed out on the bed, still wearing his clothes. I stood over him, shaking my head. I’d found out everything I’d needed to know about him, including his various abuses of women over the years. There’d even been two arrests made, one for rape, charges that had been tossed out.

He believed his lineage prevented him from facing consequences of his actions.

And sadly, it had. Much like my father had done once, his had given him a get out of jail free card that had been needed on several occasions.

What he’d yet to learn was that those controlling the real power handled things differently.

I pulled out the syringe and vial, smirking as I filled the tube.

When I was ready, I sat down on the bed, shaking him until he finally opened his eyes.

“Randy Jenkins.”

“Wha…What? Who are you?”

I took a few seconds before answering. “You know me, buddy. We went to elementary school together. But that was a long time ago. You were at the charity event tonight. So was I.”

He tried to sit up, still dazed. As he blinked profusely, I realized the moment he gathered this wasn’t necessarily a social call. And likely when he recognized me from the charity event. “Yeah, Christian. Okay. What do you want?”

“Just a moment of your time and to let you know you will no longer be assaulting women.”

His laugh was a direct contrast to disbelief and as if a man waking from a deep sleep to discover the boogeyman was real. At least this time, the deed would be done and I could have a clear conscience about my choice in ending his life.

That wasn’t always the case.

Maybe my sweet Penelope was a guardian angel of sorts.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I suggest you get the hell out of my room before I call the police. I don’t care who your daddy is. He can’t help you.”