Book two of 'The Vengeance Duology'
Five years ago, the lads and I made the biggest mistake of our lives-a reckless decision that shattered everything.
We destroyed what mattered most, but my deepest regret is how much I hurt her.
Every moment of pa...
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"Princess, I've got a new target for you," Jacques says, walking into my room with his usual confidence. He doesn't bother knocking; he knows I don't have the patience for pleasantries when it comes to work.
I glance up from my desk, eyes narrowing. "Who?"
"David Levos," he replies, his voice low but clear. "Thirty-nine. Drugs young girls in nightclubs and rapes them."
A flicker of rage courses through me, instant and electric. My fingers curl into a fist at my side. That's all I need to know. There's no mercy for men like him. Rapists don't just deserve to die—they deserve a death that mirrors the suffering they've caused.
A horrid end, for horrid men.
I stride into my walk-in wardrobe, determination fueling my every step. "What do you think will grab his attention?" I shout back to Jacques, who is lingering at the entrance.
He follows me inside, his eyes quickly scanning through my collection of clothes. After a moment, he plucks a sequin leopard-print dress from its hanger and holds it up with a knowing smirk.
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"Perfect," I say, taking it from him with a grin. The dress is daring—short enough to catch his eye but still leaving room for the surprises I have planned.
I move deeper into the wardrobe, my fingers trailing over rows of wigs until I find the one I want—a long blonde one. People know who I am, I can't risk being seen near the murder. I slip the wig on, tucking a few stray strands into place, instantly transforming into someone unrecognizable.
Next, I slide on a pair of thigh-high heels, feeling the snug leather mold to my legs. I secure a knife down one boot, hidden just enough but easy to reach. I attach a gun strap to my upper thigh, adjusting it so it sits tightly against my skin. The dress is almost too short—it skims dangerously close to revealing the gun—but I tug it down just enough to conceal the weapon.
"Ready," I say, looking up at Jacques with a wicked smile. "Let's give this bastard a night he won't forget."
