Chapter 3
—Fact: you’re an asshole.—
He stared at his laptop screen, as if that would somehow make the message he’d been waiting for appear. He’d set up multiple anonymous email accounts and, with the help of an unsavory acquaintance, had reached out to men willing to do what he needed.
For a price, of course.
He was spending money he didn’t have but he was a risk-taker. Sometimes his gambling paid off, and other times it didn’t. Right now he desperately needed this plan to work. And kidnapping Hadley Lane was the way to get what he wanted quickest. It would serve two purposes.
Her rich father would do anything to get her back, and he planned to punish Douglas Alexander in more ways than one. That man would pay in blood eventually. But the old man wouldn’t balk at a ransom request. Not for his precious daughter.
He wouldn’t return her, however. Or maybe he would. Even if he did, she wouldn’t be the same. He’d break her into a thousand pieces first. He’d decide that later, once he had the young, beautiful woman in his grasp. She was just his type too. Dark hair, sweet smile, all innocent and ripe for the picking.
And he was going to record everything for Douglas, make the old man watch what he did to her. It was nothing less than he deserved. Douglas had taken from him, mocked him as he did it, and now he would take from the billionaire.
For a while he’d considered Douglas’s son, but Brooks was too hard to get to and he’d been in the Marines. A fucking sniper. No, going after him would be stupid. Those two had a poor relationship anyway. And Douglas’s ex-wives had all been whores, none of whom the man seemed to care about at all. No leverage there.
But Hadley was sweet and new in his life. And by all accounts the man had “changed” and was trying to have a real relationship with her. A joke.
Nonetheless, this would still hurt Douglas, would cut him deep. Not only would he lose millions, he’d lose the daughter he’d never gotten to know.
Yes…he would have to kill her. Though he would wear a mask as he hurt her, cut her, raped her, he still would need her to die. Douglas would have to know that he’d never stood a chance at saving her. That no matter what he did, what he paid, his daughter would have died anyway.
Because he wanted to break Douglas too.
He refreshed his screen and nearly jumped when he saw a new message. He never actually sent the emails. He and the other man attached to this account simply signed into the email, started a new message, but never sent it. Just saved the messages as drafts. He had an email account set up like this with each man he’d hired.
Apparently it was the best way to communicate, per the acquaintance who’d given him the names of these men. He quickly scanned the message, frowned. Before responding he took a bump of coke to get settled.
Hitter 1: You said you only hired a few of us.
I did.
Hitter 1: Saw the target out today with a known associate.
Well, he certainly hadn’t told the other men the names of who he’d hired. Just kept the contract small. His acquaintance had made that clear, that he could only hire a few hitters at a time and if they failed, only then could he expand his contract. Otherwise it would get too crowded and messy with too many people involved. And it would increase the chance of something leading back to him—or the job failing. It wasn’t exactly strange that this guy saw someone in his field out with her. This guy should have been faster and gotten to her first—because no one got paid the full amount until she was brought in.
His frown deepened as he stared at the screen, ignoring his own reflection glinting off it. If Hadley was out with one of the men he’d hired, maybe the guy simply wanted to screw her first or drug her, bring her in easier.
Finally he responded. What is the problem then?
Hitter 1: You said not to hurt her. Has that changed?
Just bring her in alive and breathing. No broken bones.
If she was roughed up a little, he could deal with it. But he’d be the one to break her.
Hitter 1: Okay.
And that was that. He logged into the other accounts, hoping to find a message of success. Whoever H1 had seen the woman with might have already bagged her.
Adrenaline punched through him as he thought of what he’d do to her, of how Douglas would feel. But there were no emails, dousing part of the high from his last bump of coke.
Sighing, he closed down the windows and turned off his laptop. He could simply check from his phone later but he needed to get out of here.
Needed to meet up with friends, to be seen in public so he had an alibi later. And he was feeling lucky right now so it was time to hit the races, place a few bets.
Yeah, his luck was starting to turn around, he could feel it in his bones. Soon he’d get everything he deserved. And Douglas would regret the day he’d ever fucked with him.