Griffin
The party is starting to wind down now. All the big-name guests have gone.
Most of Kalista’s inner circle of friends—if you believe social media chatter—have all picked out a companion for their private in-room after parties. Unsurprisingly, they each grabbed a man who spent most of the night wearing nothing but caviar.
I, on the other hand, have reached out to my hotel contact to get the access needed to Kalista’s room. Her room key cost me a pretty penny. But the money this ring is going to net me will more than make up for it.
I’ve made sure that Kalista isn’t in her room when I slip into her suite.
The room is everything you’d expect of a hotel that calls itself The Luxury.
Heated marble floor throughout. Diamond chandeliers in all four rooms—five, if you include the chandelier shower in the bathroom. Floor to ceiling windows.
Fuck—even the bed is large enough to fit a family of six on it comfortably. I’m a man who enjoys elegant luxury just as much as the next man, but even for me, this is too decadent.
I’m convinced now that it would be a crime not to steal this ring from Kalista. Having the kind of money and to stay in a suite like this should be illegal.
On the bright side, a room this large allows for plenty of space for me to lay low until Kalista returns from downstairs. Then, once she’s sound asleep, I can take the ring and leave.
This might be easier than taking candy from a baby, now that I think about it.
It’s a little after three in the morning when Kalista strolls into her room, with two of her bodyguards. She stumbles a bit here and there as she moves, thanks to all that champagne in her system. Her security detail moves to help her, but she waves them off.
“You boys can leave. You got me here in one piece.”
“We really should do a check of your room, Miss von Knopf.”
“Todd, seriously. Nothing is going to happen to me in this room. Now go, so I can get to bed.”
Her two muscled watchdogs, in their matching black suits, look at each other with apparent annoyance, but Kalista’s the boss.
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll be in the room next door, if you need us for anything.”
“Thank you, boys.”
The men in suits leave the room. A heavy sigh of relief from Kalista fills the air the second the door clicks shut.
“Ugh, finally,” Kalista mumbles, as she kicks off her Jimmy Choos.
From my hidden position in the suite, I watch as Kalista grabs the phone and calls down to room service. She orders some chamomile tea and warm milk. Both are excellent choices, for winding down to relax.
Once she hangs up, the lovely heiress begins to remove all the fancy jewelry adorning her curvy figure. All of it except for her new ring.
She stands from the couch and begins to peel off her cocktail dress. I’ve seen the girl in bikinis many times, but to see her live, in a La Perla, is something else entirely.
I feel a bit like a deviant, watching her from the shadows as she undresses. But I must admit, I’m enjoying the view thoroughly.
Kalista turns and leaves for the bedroom, before undressing further.
I’m a bit thankful for that. The last thing I need is for my cock to burst from my pants and give away my position. Maybe I should have mixed in some pleasure tonight after all.
When she returns to the main room, she’s wearing a silk nightgown that hugs her body like a fitted glove. There’s an urge inside me, to step out from my position, and kiss her on the silk covered flesh of her tits and stomach.
Thankfully, a knock at the door interrupts those thoughts.
“Hmm, fast room service, too,” she coos to herself, as she moves to the door.
Kalista opens the door, and there’s a loud gasp that explodes from her.
“Who the fu—”
“Shut up and get inside.”
That’s not room service.
Two men in hotel uniforms force Kalista back inside her room. One is holding a pistol on her, and the other is pushing a large room service cart. This is a kidnapping attempt.
And not a bad one at that.
Kalista is alone and still slightly inebriated from the party. She’s in no shape to put up a fight. It would be easy to drug her, put her in the cart, and wheel her out without anyone knowing what’s happened until they make their ransom demands.
It’s still a risky move given who she is and where they are, but I know more than anyone that a big pay-off takes risks.
The man pushing the cart pulls out some rope and moves on Kalista to tie her up.
I know that I shouldn’t get involved.
This isn’t my fight. I’m here to take her ring and leave.
But something inside me is telling me to stop this.
I step out from my cover and rush toward the man with the gun first. The two kidnappers are surprised at my sudden appearance.
I grab the wrist of the man with the gun and twist it in my grasp. He lets out a groan, that’s followed by a quick scream when I break his twisted arm over my shoulder.
I elbow him in the face with enough force that his jaw breaks, and he falls unconscious.
The other man tackles me to the floor from behind. I can feel him fumbling around for a pistol of his own. Getting shot isn’t on my list of things to do tonight.
I reach down, grab the man’s leg, and bend it against my thigh in a direction that the human leg isn’t meant to bend.
A scream, like the one made by his companion just a couple seconds ago, escapes from his lips when the bone breaks. I follow up with a nose breaking head butt, before delivering a hard right that knocks the man out.
I turn to look at Kalista from over my shoulder. The birthday girl is nearly in shock, not that I blame her.
“Francis, are you there? Did you get the girl already?”
My gaze turns to the man whose arm and jaw I just broke. Moving over to him, I open his jacket to reveal a small radio with a blinking red light on it.
“Francis, answer me dammit. Did you get the girl or not?”
I run over to the suite’s entrance and look out to the hallway. There’s no sign of anyone, including Kalista’s security. You’d think her security detail would have heard the commotion, if they were next door.
I look back over to Kalista, as she hides behind the couch.
“Who are you? Who are they?”
“I know now isn’t the right time to say this, but that hurts, love.”
Take the fucking ring, and go, Griff! Don’t stand around and talk!
It would be the smart thing to do. Do the job, leave, and get paid.
But to leave her now, knowing that there are others out there after her is just too cold for even me.
Maybe it’s my inner hero talking, but I must get Kalista out of here.
I grab the chloroform that the kidnappers brought with them, and I approach Kalista.
“No, get away from me!”
She tries to slink away, but I move faster than her. I slip the cloth over her face and watch as she slowly fades into sleep.
“Sorry love, but it’s not safe for you here.”
I place Kalista in the cart—reluctantly and carefully—and linger on the giant ring on her finger. I may be the hero in this story, but I’m also an opportunistic one.
I’m the Gryhpon, after all.