Desire
The head of Asgard, Terence Dublemare—nicknamed Thor—is lounging in a hot tub on the terrace of a rented cottage.
Getting onto the property and taking a position by the window took only a few minutes.
When the pair of whores splashing around with him go inside, I intercept them in the hallway and knock them out with chloroformed cloths before they can even squeak.
I step out onto the terrace, no longer hiding.
Inside, I’m boiling. I fucking hated leaving Rory in that state for this juiced-up bastard, but the war between the Kingdom and Asgard needs to be nipped in the bud.
I used to not give a shit—I love the sight of blood—but Aurora’s words made me change my mind.
Since my princess has started caring about our kingdom, I have to live up to it.
“Where the fuck are you, whores?!” Terence thunders, slapping the water with his palm. He turns at the sound of the opening door and freezes when he sees me in my black balaclava. I didn’t put on the prince’s mask—I didn’t come to kill tonight …, but that’s not set in stone.
“Your whores have taken a little nap. Don’t worry, Thor, I’ll keep you company.” I sit on the edge of the hot tub like I own the place and press the gun barrel against his forehead. “And my friends will too, if things get boring.”
His massive muscular shoulders tremble slightly in time with the bubbling water. “Sterling?!” He recognizes my voice—no surprise there. The mask is more to avoid being caught on cameras or by random witnesses. “What the fuck?! How did you even get in here?!”
I twist my lips into a smirk. An elite killer always has support that can blind any security system.
“There are no barriers for me, Thor.” I tap the steel muzzle against his frontal bone. “I want you to understand that once and for all.”
He swallows hard, looking up at me. “If you kill me …”
I lower the barrel, pressing it against the bridge of his nose between his eyes. Terence shuts up, afraid to even breathe. “Your sons of bitches tried to rape my fiancée,” I say, my voice like metal scraping against stone. “Do you really think this is the time for empty threats?”
His jaw muscles clench, and a deep furrow forms on his forehead. “Hank?” he forces out.
“One of the four.” I nod, not moving my finger from the trigger.
“I didn’t know, I swear!” he groans, panic creeping into his voice. “They were acting suspicious all evening, practically glowing … Now I understand why. Sterling, Asgard has a code. We don’t rape women. Whoever did this, they’re out of the fraternity.”
“Lovely,” I grit out. “And what about you?”
“Me?” Thor blinks in confusion, water droplets streaming down his face.
“You’re a shitty leader, Thor. Time and again, I have to maim your men to teach them a lesson.”
“Sterling, don’t get worked up—”
I lower the barrel and shoot him in the leg. The muffled pop is swallowed by the noise of the water. Thor cries out, collapsing sideways and grabbing the edge of the tub while the bubbling water turns a deep crimson.
“Fuck!”
“Don’t get worked up? Your thugs dared to touch my future wife.
” The memory of Aurora doubling over with nausea today flashes through my mind.
The thought that she might be carrying my child triples my rage, turning it into icy fire.
“And stop whining—I only shot through your calf muscle. Be thankful I didn’t shatter your knee, then you’d never stand without crutches again. ”
“Sterling …,” he wheezes, turning crimson with pain.
I grab his wet hair and yank his head up.
The bastard is heavy as an anvil, but I force him to look me in the eyes.
“You answer to me now, Thor. Unofficially. Your idiots don’t need to know anything, but you will carry out my every order.
We’ll figure out later exactly how I’ll control them through you. Do you agree?”
“Yes …,” he grits out through clenched teeth.
I shove his head away in disgust. “Call an ambulance before you bleed out.”
I turn and walk away, tucking the gun back into its holster as I go. Surprisingly, I didn’t kill him. Of course, that was the plan, but since when has that ever stopped me? I guess my princess really does have more power over me than I’m ready to admit.
Already in the car, I take an incoming call from Laurent. As usual, he’s connected at the most inconvenient moment.
“Do you ever sleep?” I ask, pulling onto the highway.
“You always pick up on the first ring yourself,” Laurent grumbles. “You wouldn’t happen to know why our mutual friend Jefferson has stopped answering my calls?”
“How should I know?” I toss back, gripping the wheel. “I’m not his nanny.”
“Right, just funny coincidences.” Laurent’s voice drips with undisguised skepticism. “You still haven’t flown to London, recently someone caught you and even kindly stitched you up while you were captive, and now Jefferson has gone underground. An interesting picture, don’t you think?”
“Are you saying he put a hit on me?” I snort.
“I don’t have proof, Desire. And you stubbornly refuse to confirm that version.”
“I told you, I was unconscious before I escaped. Goodbye, Laurent.”
I hang up and hit the gas. I don’t care about Jefferson right now. All I want tonight is to get back to the lion’s den, to my princess. I want to fuck Miss Vance one last time, because tomorrow, she’ll be Mrs. Sterling. Forever.