Vaughn

I’d navigated my way through a wide variety of locations while on missions, both for the Army and then on my own after I discharged. Jungles, deserts, urban sprawl—been there, done that. But I never expected an op to take me to a charity gala so fancy I had to wear a custom tux to ensure I’d fit in without garnering unwanted attention. Then again, this wasn’t the usual job I took on as a paid mercenary. It was personal.

Or as close to personal as I ever got, considering I’d been accurately described as a killing machine more often than I liked to admit. The one thing killing machines didn’t do was allow their feelings to interfere with the job. But there were some things even a heartless man couldn’t let go.

Most people wouldn’t consider me to be a good man, not with the number of kills I’d racked up in my time in the Army. Certainly not with the amount I’d added to the tally after I left. But there were worse men in the world than me. Much, much worse. And sometimes it fell to me to ensure that those men were taken out of the equation. Permanently.

The dregs of society usually came to my attention when I was hired to hunt them down. Every great once in a while, it happened when someone called in a favor, an extremely rare occurrence since I worked hard to ensure I didn’t owe anything to anyone. Even rarer than that was the reason I found myself at a charity gala with my attention divided between the man I was hunting and a bevy of young socialites strutting across the stage for some ridiculous bachelorette auction. I found myself at the gala, restraining myself from tugging on the collar of my tux, because I was on a mission I’d taken upon myself—to hunt down the man who funded his place in high society with a human trafficking ring that had caught my attention when I’d stumbled across a dead girl’s body in the alley behind my favorite restaurant. Her emaciated body had been a far cry from the appearance of the pampered beauties strolling across the stage tonight.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen death up close, far from it considering the methods I’d employed in some of my kills. But I’d never been the one to call the cops in to investigate a homicide. Being on that end of a crime was a little odd, and the unusualness of the situation sparked a sense of curiosity in me. It was a good thing, too, considering the cops weren’t putting in their best efforts to figure out who killed the girl.

It didn’t sit right with me, so I stepped in. It wasn’t long before I stumbled across the ring of smugglers who’d brought her into the country. If someone with money needed something—literally anything—these guys found a way to get it. Only the money trail didn’t end with them. It didn’t really start with them, either, since they were thugs who didn’t have the right contacts to find the kind of clients who were wealthy enough to afford the prices some of their procurements pulled in.

The money led me straight to the crème de la crème of high society. To a suspect who was a challenge for me to pin down because it was difficult to employ my usual methods of reconnaissance on him. Approaching and observing an enemy who was always surrounded by other people who were in the limelight—each with their own security detail—required a shit ton of finesse. Utilizing long-distance observation equipment only got me so far with Alexander Bellamy. I needed a valid reason for a closer approach, and I was determined to find it at this damn party. Almost two hours into it, and I still hadn’t managed to get within spitting distance. But from the way his attention suddenly shifted towards the stage when they announced the next socialite up for bidding, I had a feeling I might have found a way to catch his interest.

Switching my focus in the same direction, I quickly understood his fascination. The girl on the stage was hot, no doubt about it. The innocence shining from her eyes and the blush on her cheeks was an intriguing contradiction to the lushness of her lips and the curves outlined by her tight, black lace dress. When the woman at the microphone who was running the auction circled her finger at her and the girl swiveled on her black stilettos, I felt like I’d been punched in the solar plexus. My breath caught in my lungs at the sight of her bare back. All those inches of skin revealed as the dress dipped down to just above the cheeks of her ass—I didn’t want anyone else to enjoy the sight but me.

The sound of my target’s voice ringing out with the highest bid of the night filled me with horror as I pictured the beauty on the stage ending up dead like the girl in the alley. There was no way in hell I was going to let him get his hands on her and destroy the innocence shining from her eyes. I’d kill him before that happened—but I’d much prefer that waited until I confirmed there wasn’t anyone higher up in the trafficking ring than him. Until then, I just had to figure out a way to keep her out of Bellamy’s orbit. Starting with outbidding him for the date with her he was about to win. Lucky for me, wiping scum of the face of the planet paid well.

“A quarter of a million dollars.”

Very well, judging by the crowd’s gasp and the stunned look of surprise on the girl’s face. Strategically, it was either brilliant or the stupidest decision I’d ever made. But it was a go big or go home moment. Bellamy had deep pockets, and I didn’t want to waste time dicking around with outbidding each other. Making a statement, in a big way, was the most efficient route to avoiding all the back and forth. It also achieved two goals—it garnered me a date with the gorgeous girl on stage and ensured I ended up on Bellamy’s radar. If I’d read his interest right, my prey might very well end up coming to me.

I practically felt the death glare he was sending my way, and I couldn’t resist swiveling my head and flashing him a smug grin as the auctioneer counted down.

“Two hundred fifty thousand, going once. Two hundred fifty thousand, going twice. Sold!”

Bellamy’s eyes narrowed, promising retribution from me for stealing away his prize. My smile widened because I was pleased as fuck about my upcoming date—and because I knew it would piss Bellamy off even more. Reluctantly, I tore my gaze away from his and headed towards the stage, but all of my reluctance was swept away the moment I was looking at her again.

Wide, dark eyes were practically glowing with stunned pleasure as she stared down at me. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and one hand was pressed against her chest just under her neck. When I neared the stage, I moved to the steps on the left side and held my hand out to her. Her face lit up with humor, and her gaze moved from my hand, to the steps, and back up again. Then she was walking towards me, hips swaying with each step. When she placed her hand in mine, it felt like an electrical current ran between us. The shock made her stumble slightly, and I moved swiftly to help her safely down the steps.

“Oh!” she gasped, her plush lips forming an intriguing O shape, making me think about how they’d look wrapped around my cock. “Never in a million years would I have guessed my father had friends like you.”

I swept my thumb across her cheek, reveling in the feel of her smooth skin under my finger. “Your father?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, tilting her head into my touch like a cat seeking affection from its owner. “My mother told me not to worry about some stranger winning a date with me because my father would make sure it was someone he approved of.”

It looked like my winning bid had been brilliant after all due to an unexpected bonus—putting another potential player on my radar. The gorgeous girl’s father knew Bellamy well enough to trust him with his daughter. Interesting.