I hated the rain. I hated the cold that came with it , the chilling atmosphere and eerie scenes that would take form it is wake. I hated the mud puddles.
Those were the worst. Evil sons of bitches , just begging for the the chance to splash me.
As I stood in Central Park all I could think about was the rain, how much I hated it and how much Charlotte loved it. Especially on a Monday ; I really hated Mondays. My umbrella wasn't doing much good either . The fact that I was still getting wet annoyed the hell out of me.
I also hated waiting for people and as I'm standing here all I could think about was carving Marian Sullivan's eyeballs out with a butterknife . The debutante was more than a few metres away, strolling down with a man glued to her side. The nineteen year old baffled me ; no one can look that good in a weather this bad.
Her round face also showed this sweet innocence ; although she was technically a murderer by association. I handed her the photo of Tahlia's dead sister. Marian's hazel eyes darkened , studying the picture carefully , as if it held the secrets the universe.
I knew that look on her face far too well. It was the look of power , knowing you have the means to do anything to anyone is greatest feeling in the world. Its better than crack , its better than sex and its even harder to get.
From interacting with Marian I've learnt not to judge people by how they look. Before I thought she was just a scrawny-looking- redheaded- dumb heiress , now she's a scrawny-looking-readheaded-dumb-bloodthirsty heiress.
Kids these days.
"Poor Rebbeca," she said scornfully. "Can you imagine , my brother was about to marry this gold digging tramp."
Rebbeca Hulioz was eighteen when she started stripping. Her parents were drug addicts , her sister Tahlia was a party addict and Rebbeca just wanted something better out of life. Her wish came true when she met Xedaine Sullivan .
It was like a fairytale , Rebbeca was going to have the life she always wanted. She would marry the prince , have his child and live in a castle on the upper eastside . Sadly it wasn't that simple.
Marian wouldn't make it that simple.
"I know you don't take cash," the man next to her displayed a briefcase " but I thought , giving the circumstances , I should be careful. Plus my brother handles my assets he'd want to know why I'm sending millions of dollars to an offshore account."
Marian paled, her knees giving out from under her. "Oh my god, my brother. What if he finds out? He'll hate me." She cried uncontrollably as the rain beat down against her skin. "I killed someone." She said between sobs.
Technically , I'm the one who killed her.
"Your brother will be find," I said reaching for the briefcase. "So will you."
"Do you have any siblings?" Marian asked.
"That's irrelevant."
"Aren't you going to count it ?" She was now referring to the briefcase.
"Marian," I said "You can't afford to cheat me."
Marian and I had then parted ways. She stayed in Central Park, to drown in her own self pity and I went to buy a latte . The line in Starbucks was crazy. Packed with people , who like I were victims of the rain.
I stood patiently behind a large man , sporting the worst spray-on tan I'd ever seen. Firstly, who gets a tan in New York? Secondly , who would let him get a spray-on tan in New York?
Clumps of fat formed his neck, the creases posed as a housing port for sweat or any other goo that his body might have stired up. His hair resembled a dead rat , that had somehow latched itself onto his scalp.
The man was also irritating , because he's been holding up the line for fifteen minutes. Try to figure out if he should buy a Veranda Blend or a Frappucino.
"Just fucking pick something!" I bellowed.
He picked the Frappucino.
The rain had finally stopped , allowing the sunshine to graze the streets of the city. I sat in the corner of Starbucks , sipping my now lukewarm latte.
"Tell me how much I rock." Clovers voice imited from the cellphone. She'd called promising mind blowing news.
"One thousand, eight hundred and fifty-three cameras are installed in Global Industries," Clover starts to explain "I go through hours - I mean hours of footage , then stumble across this beauty at four in the morning."
Clover sent me the video over the phone, it was like a missing piece of a movie. This time, from another angle, drunk Charolette was being hauled into an unmarked van. Her fighting efforts in vain as Maxwell knocked her unconscious.
Oh my god.
"Oh my God!" Clover yells "This is great! You have a lead. Come on bitch, tell me how much I kick ass. Vee?"
Why is it, that Charlotte's boyfriends always tend to screw her over? What in the actual fuck was going on?
"Sorry. I spaced out," I confessed. "This is what we're gonna do . First we'll meet at my apartment , then we'll think of a plan ."
"Will Henry be there?" She replied.
I doubt it.
"Probably," I lied. "And Clover."
"Yeah," she said.
"You kick ass."
YOU ARE READING
VEE BETA ( Book1 of the BETA Series)
ChickLit"Who the hell do you think you are?" Tahlia's sister screamed. "I'm the person who's been hired to kill you." To say she was shocked was an understatement. The poor girl was mortified. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. "W-what?" she said...
