23. LYRA #2
A familiar calm settles over me, the same way it does every time I step into this room. The world makes sense here. No complicated feelings. No annoying men who either want to blow up my home or bail on dates. No emotional damage. Just work.
But not the kind of work a girl like me should be doing. Definitely not the kind of work a girl like me should be good at.
I finish dressing before adjusting myself in front of my full-length mirror and touching up my makeup. Then I reach for the finishing touch, adjusting it over me, and the moment I’m done, I stare back at myself, taking in the deep-red wig as the vixen inside of me comes alive.
This is the real me. The me that Hunter and Maddox will never know. The real killer this city has been searching for. But they’ll never find me. I’m too good. I’m a ghost, a rumor, a nightmare.
I’m the Red fucking Widow.
At least, that’s what chatrooms on the dark web have started to call me. It’s a little dramatic, but I kinda like it. Actually, maybe I love it. Just a little.
The corner of my lip pulls into a twisted smirk.
If these boys think they get to be the only ones who go out and have fun, they’re going to be sorely mistaken.
Because my version of fun is proving that I’m the best, no matter what.
And after leaving me high and dry on my bar, I’m going to revel in taking their hit.
Ready to go, I reach into the closet and take the small vial of perfume and spritz it in my hair before inhaling the sweet vanilla scent.
It’s my signature scent, and while I would bathe in this perfume if I could, I strictly keep it only to my hair so that when the wig comes off, I can go straight back to being Lyra.
A smile pulls at my lips. I’m going to rain down hell over these boys.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re good. Great even, but taking hits from them has been like stealing candy from a baby. And what’s more, they have no idea they’ve been competing against me this entire time.
They’ve spent weeks chasing a ghost while I’ve been standing right in front of them, sharing drinks, stealing fries, and listening to every theory under the sun.
The best part? Hunter thinks he’s impossible to fool. Maddox thinks he notices everything. Yet neither one of them will see me coming. But honestly? Watching the realization hit their faces might end up being my favorite kill of the night.
I’ve got to give it to Maddox, though. He straight-up fooled me.
I thought Hunter was my only competition in Onyx Heights, but when the boys snuck out of Maddox’s place while I was on the couch, I couldn’t bring myself to sit still.
I needed to know Maddox’s part in it. That realization hit me right in the vag.
I don’t know how I’d missed it. But the moment I watched him make his first kill that night, I realized he was just as deranged as Hunter.
Hell, maybe even as deranged as I am. But one thing is for sure, this is a fools game, and nobody fools others as well as I do.
The target is Nathaniel Moretti. He’s actually a regular at Black Velvet and nothing more than a trust-fund brat.
He’s the second youngest son of one of the wealthiest families in the country, and up until now, it was believed that he was the perfect golden boy. But everybody has their secrets, and when it comes to billionaires, I’m starting to realize that dirty secrets are just part of the job description.
The second Hunter gave me just a snippet of the details, I already knew who I was looking for, and not because I have a relationship with Nathaniel that allows me to know his deep, dark secrets, but because I make it my business to know everything about every last person who lives in and around Onyx Heights.
He’s stupid and greedy, exactly the type of man who would end up on a hit list. He’s collateral damage, and once you fuck with Daddy’s money, it’s time to go.
This kill will be big news come morning. No mistakes can be made.
When Nathaniel isn’t wasted at my bar, he can generally be found on the outskirts of Onyx Heights, in a club called Madam, and yes, it’s exactly that kind of club.
The kind of club that gives you anything you could possibly want if the price is right, and where Nathaniel is concerned, money is no issue.
I umm and ahh over heading that way. Considering the curfew within the city limits, Madam is currently one of the only clubs with their doors open.
Not that they would have obliged by the curfew had their establishment been built two miles to the west. Buuuuuut, beating Hunter and Maddox at their own game is just too great of an opportunity to pass up.
I arrive at Madam, and after silently creeping up on the back door security and knocking him out cold, I slip through the back entrance while taking everything in.
The club is impeccable, but that’s no surprise with the type of clientele they’re bringing in every night.
I came here once out of professional curiosity before I started the layout and design concepts for Black Velvet.
I wanted my bar to be original. I wanted customers to walk in and feel as though they’d never been anywhere like it before, and with that in mind, I went around to all the local bars and clubs and checked out what they had going on, and just as it’s doing now, Madam blew me away.
There’s a sophisticated sexiness to it. An elegant appeal that you just don’t get with normal clubs. It screams money and class. Only for high society clientele who are dressed the part and have the money to splurge.
Moving through the club, I stick to the shadows, keeping myself concealed as I scan the floor, searching through the groups of men, who even late at night on a Saturday, are still wearing designer business suits.
Slowly wandering through the club, I keep searching until I finally spot him, leaning against the bar and barking orders into his phone, pretending he isn’t currently bleeding millions of dollars from his family’s empire.