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I put audio and visual in her bedroom. I was headed back out to the living area when I heard the front door. Fucking hell. As I stepped into the closet, I glowered down at my phone. The tracker I placed on her phone when I touched it during our meeting still registered her as headed to the West End.
So who was in her flat? I stayed perfectly still, palming my knife at my hip. Messy. No plastic to put down. I’d have to keep it quick and off her bloody carpets.
Maybe the kitchen. The floor in there was hardwood. Fast enough to clean up, but it could stain. This was going to be a problem.
Then I realized I also had a tranq. That would put whoever was in here out. Unless they were here for me and not her, in which case there was a fucking problem.
Didn’t matter.
I heard whistling, and through the slats in the closet, I saw who it was. Christopher.
Son of a bitch. What the fuck was he doing here? It looked like he was there to collect his things, but why wait until Daphne was gone?
My frown only deepened when he rifled through her nightstand. What the fuck was that? Was that a cock ring?
Christ.
A shudder ran up my spine. He tossed it into the box along with some lube and a couple of vibrators. Wow. And then he went to the top drawer still looking for something.
My fury simmered to life. Yes, I might be hiding in her closet, and yes, I might have just bugged her place, but I wasn't pawing through her intimates.
He murmured to himself as he cleared items from the loo. “Might as well see if I can repurpose these perfumes I bought you.”
I could have let him go, but the little shit needed to be taught a lesson. I hadn’t liked him when we met. And now, well, now he was giving me reasons to kill him. He was still whistling in the bathroom when I stepped out of the closet and back into the shadow right next to the bathroom door. He was laughing to himself as he came out.
“I don't know about you mate, but that's right nasty, regifting knickers and perfume. That’s just sad.”
His eyes went wide just as I smashed my fist into his face.
He immediately doubled over, holding his nose. Then I was behind him and had him in a chokehold.
“If you ever try to see her again outside work,” I said, dropping my voice an octave and not bothering to mask it because he wouldn't recognize me, “I will fucking slit your throat.”
I pressed the knife to his jugular just to make a point, being sure to leave a sliver of a cut. In the moonlight, I could see the drops of blood rolling down his neck. In my arms he was holding perfectly still, but I could tell he was fighting a shiver of fear.
“What's going to happen is you're going to leave this box. Then you’re going to walk out of here. If you come back, I’ll know. If you tell her about our conversation, I’ll know. If I find out that you've come to remove any of her belongings, I'll come to your house when you're sleeping or fucking someone new, and I will slit your throat. Do you understand?”
He coughed, unable to speak, so I loosened my grip.
“Nod so that I know you understand, arsehole.”
“Who are you?”
I tightened my grip again. “That doesn't say you understand.”
He swallowed hard, licking his bloodstained lips before muttering, “I understand.”
When I released him, he wasted no time running. He didn’t stop to look back, just ran. But understanding the kind of bloke he was, I didn’t linger.
I wasn’t going to think about why I risked exposure to teach that little shit a lesson.
8
Daphne
“Wait, so it’s the same bloke?”
I took the martini my sister handed me and flopped back on one of the leather couches at the quaint pub in the castle. Honestly the vibe was giving lounge bar but the service was impeccable so we didn’t mind it. “The very same. “
