Chapter 9
Sophia spent the better part of two hours delving through real estate information and records only able to be obtained by someone in her profession.
Given her level of security clearance, there was little in the way of records in which she wasn’t allowed access.
When she was finished, she’d determined a single estate located on Key Biscayne that was a possibility.
If she was wrong, she’d face the wrath of her director.
But if she was right, she’d hunt and arrest the most notorious criminal of her career. The thought was juicy indeed.
Your lover.
The man you still dream about.
The enemy you hunger for…
The little voice pinged at her again, creating a slight wave of nausea. She enjoyed the usual anger, not this bullshit. He was a killer. That was it. Nothing more.
Period.
Huffing, she wanted a bottle of tequila to calm her nerves, but she was determined to see this through. Her way.
“You’re a submissive, Ashley, born and bred. You desire a strong man with a firm hand. I am that man.”
The bastard was an arrogant fuck as well.
She didn’t need anyone, especially a man.
As she gathered her intel and prepared to change into something more comfortable for the night’s work, her finger hovered over a bland-looking icon located on her desktop.
She went there nightly, allowing the true girl inside to feel free, living vicariously as another personality.
No one could understand her needs, her dark cravings.
Except for Wrath.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
While she’d never explored them intimately before her sick and twisted tryst, she’d dreamed of submitting, giving her body and will freely to a man, her lover and her master.
Wrath had managed to figure that out within minutes of being together.
He’d opened the door, and just as he’d told her, he’d exposed the woman behind the mask.
Maybe she really was Ashley in disguise.
She fingered the locket, the piece still remaining close.
She’d even considered getting a dog, although the poor creature wouldn’t be able to tolerate her odd hours.
Or her mood swings.
The draw of the internet remained strong, just another haunting round of heady guilt.
She clenched her fist; she shouldn’t be doing this.
A man’s life was at stake, at least if Harry was correct in what he’d overheard.
There was no indication that anyone would be coming in town tonight, especially given this time of night.
Even so, would Wrath be lying in wait? That wasn’t his style.
She swallowed the lump in her throat before tapping on the link.
The moment her blog pulled up, she felt sick to her stomach. Why?
The voice inside her head was quick to provide a truthful statement. Because you crave Wrath. There had to be something fundamentally wrong with her. Desiring a criminal, a cold-blooded killer? A guttural groan slipped from her lips. Every dream, every vision had been of him. Subduing her.
Shackling her.
Punishing her.
Fucking her.
Igniting the passion furrowing inside that she’d been allowed to taste.
“Damn it!” The words rang in the living room, almost echoing, a haunting reminder that she was all alone and had been for a full two years. As if the previous relationship had any spark. They’d been two people passing in the night, occasionally sharing dinner and mediocre sex.
Certainly not what romance novels were made of.
She sat up straight and pulled up her most recent blog, exhaling as she read the title.
She hadn’t even been able to hit publish on the damn thing.
Complete submission. What I wouldn’t give.
Perfect. If her partner obtained a copy of this, she’d be the laughing stock of the entire department.
Maybe she’d get thrown out of the FBI. They didn’t take kindly to carnal encounters.
As if she was going to have another one after falling prey to a man like Wrath.
This was ridiculous. As she was about to click off the program, she just happened to notice her stats.
Wait a minute. Someone had not only read her blog but actually made a comment on one of the older pieces.
This was a first. She scrolled down and had to read the statement twice. Every muscle in her body was twitching.
If I were the man lucky enough to own you, I would make certain you were trained, protected, and loved.
And you would serve me, my needs and every desire, punishment swift and severe for any and all infractions.
In time, the woman clawing to become free would dance, the peace of submitting filling your empty soul.
She half laughed as her pussy quivered. The words were exactly what she craved hearing. The signature? Anonymous. Uh-huh. Tapping her finger on the keyboard, her instinct moved into overtime. The words were exactly like something Wrath would have said in an effort to keep her on edge.
Why the hell not answer? She had to admit, the game was enjoyable, even though this time, he was going to be the one who lost.
That is exactly what I’ve needed my entire life.
Sophia left Rickenbacker Causeway, entering into Key Biscayne and when she pulled to a light, she checked her GPS.
She’d only been on the island a few times since moving to Miami, the beautiful white sandy beaches, expensive homes, and posh resorts way out of her league.
Even the restaurants were pricy. This was a perfect setting for seclusion.
This was also perfect for an assassination.
She hadn’t planned out the visit, other than being in a position to case the estate then waiting all night until the new tenant arrived if necessary.
In the time she’d left, there’d been two calls from her partner and one from Director Montgomery, which she’d ignored.
If this didn’t pan out, the morning was going to be rough.
The drive took less than ten minutes, but the gated entrance was a setback.
Using extreme caution, she parked the car out of sight and made certain she had enough ammunition.
After checking her mirrors, she rolled her eyes before leaving left her vehicle.
The last thing she needed was to have the police called.
Walking the perimeter, she was unable to catch even a glimpse of the house, but she was aware from the internet pictures that there was a back entrance.
She headed toward the side, scooting between the tall hedges and the brick wall surrounding the property.
Every step she took was with caution, her gun in her hand.
When she reached the rear, she could see how the wall sloped down.
The back gate was locked. The only concept was to make it over the wall.
Very carefully, she managed to crawl on top, the stone uneven in several places and allowing for secure footing.
She eased over, dropping to the ground and waiting.
Listening. There were no telltale signs, no barking dogs or flashing lights.
She’d maneuvered the wall without being detected.
Sophia kept low to the ground as she moved through the pristine landscaping, seeing a shimmering illumination just up ahead.
She remained in the shadows as she shifted a flowering shrub, the fragrance filling her nostrils.
The estate had been built for the wealthy, the privileged and beautiful people, those who could easily afford Ferraris.
She chuckled at the thought. This was a perfect house for Wrath, modern with flair.
The gun firmly planted in her hand, she inched closer to the pool.
The lights emitted from under the water along with the gushing waterfall suggested the home had been prepared for a new arrival.
Everything appeared magical, a breathtaking view of just how the rest of the world lived.
Colorful umbrellas adorned the decking, tables and lounge chairs positioned just so, lined up in an organized fashion.
The light wind allowed the scent of every stunning tropical arrangement, flowering shrubs and flowers adorning several huge clay pots to waft across her nose. What an incredible place.
She could see no signs of anyone having been outside, at least recently.
There were no water stains, no leftover drink glasses or ashtrays.
Her steps slow and deliberate, she made her way to the expansive floor-to-ceiling doors flanking the entire back.
She darted her head around the first pillar, trying to gather a look inside.
From what she was able to see, the only internal lights were those of some form of nightlights. She tried the first door.
Locked.
The second was also locked. There was no doubt an extensive alarm system, but at least she could gather the layout and find the most secure areas, those in which she could hide then wait.
The thought was beginning to sound ridiculous.
How did she even know that Harry was telling her the truth?
The kid was a junkie, for Christ’s sake.
Undaunted, she shoved a strand of hair behind her ear and inched forward.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slight flutter.
Her gun in position, she hunkered down until she realized what she was seeing.
A light sheer drape was blowing through what appeared to be a crack in the door.
Immediately she moved further into the shadows.
Would a real estate agent or caretaker be this careless?
An odd feeling formed in her stomach, her instinct on high alert.
Something about this didn’t feel right. Not on any level.
Sweeping the entire area with her eyes, she held her breath as she thought about the best course of action.
A crime in progress? There were far too many questions.