Chapter 32
I cling to Noah”s arm, his biceps squeezed against my chest for support, as we walk through the crowded lobby of the hotel where Mr. Williams is hosting the party. My heart is pounding in my chest.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I”m sure Noah can feel and hear it as well. I can”t even hear my own thoughts over my heartbeat and the boisterous chatter of the countless people gathered around us. ”Are you okay?” Noah asks. His voice breaks through to me, and I turn to look at him, offering me a glass of champagne he snatched from one of the trays the waiters are carrying around.
”Yeah, just my nerves.” I accept the glass and take a sip of the bubbly alcohol. Closing my eyes, I let out a soft sigh as the alcohol begins to work its way into my system.
Pulling his arm out of my grasp, he wraps it around me, placing his hand securely on my hip. ”I”m here. Let me do the talking for now, and just as we discussed, you play the role of my escort, okay?”
”Do you really think he won”t notice?” I ask, taking another sip of champagne.
”No, this man has only seen a few pictures of you, and you look different in each one I have received; most of them are blurry. It takes someone with trained eyes to know it’s you.” His hand runs up and down my hip in a soothing pattern, as if trying to brush away the tension in my body.
”Okay, then let”s go.” I shoot him a determined smile.
I follow Noah into the ballroom of the hotel. The strides of his long legs are slow to match my pace. My steps are a little slower in high heels, and he doesn”t rush me. He stays by my side and keeps me safe. Every now and then, someone stops him to chat with him; people call him by a number of different names. Sometimes his real one, sometimes others that I suppose are his other identities. He tries to keep me out of the conversation as much as possible. The men who have women with them don”t seem too interested in me to begin with. Although I get one or two curious looks from some of them.
I”m on my second glass of champagne, sipping at the bubbly drink. We are standing on the outer edge of the crowd now. Noah”s arm is still wrapped around me while his gaze darts around the room, studying the crowd. His head bobs from side to side, reminding me of one of his doves turning its head.
”Mr. Holman.” A cheerful, raspy male voice calls to him. ”So glad you could make it.”
Noah”s grip on me tightens, and he turns to face the source of the voice. His expression hardens, and all emotion vanishes from his face, replaced by a serious and commanding stance. The familiar face of an old man–Mr. Williams, to be specific–is heading our way.
”Mr. Williams,” Noah says, extending his right arm to shake the old man’s hand. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“My pleasure, we have a reason to be celebrating together after all,” Mr. Williams says, extending his hand to Noah and shaking his for longer than is necessary. “I do hope we can put our previous difficulties behind us and continue to do business with each other in the future.”
“Of course. I mean, mistakes can happen to the best of people.” Noah flashes a brief smile before his face returns to that blank state. His fingers drum rhythmically against my hipbone, trying to keep his cool. I noticed it is something he does when he gets upset. I guess to keep his hands occupied so they can’t reach for his pistol.
”They do, and even men like us are no exception,” Mr. Williams says, and Noah”s arm twitches around me. That was definitely the absolute worst possible thing anyone could say to a man like Noah. The atmosphere shifts, and I’m sure Noah is about to snap when the old man trails off.
”Now, Mr. Holman,” Mr.Williams’ eyes land on me. The old man and I are about the same height. Thank God. I think I would throw up if he looked down at me. ”Are you going to introduce me to your lovely companion for tonight?”
”This is Lily Bennett,” Noah says, introducing me. I steal a quick glance at him. We hadn”t discussed fake names before, but I”m grateful that he came up with one for me on the spot. But did it have to be my best friend”s first name? With his hand on the small of my back, he guides me to take a small step forward.
”It”s an honor to meet you,” I say in a friendly voice, playing along and flashing Mr. Williams one of my sweetest smiles.
”The pleasure is all mine, my dear.” Mr. Williams grins and reaches for my hand, which he brings to his mouth to place a kiss on my knuckles before he turns his attention back to Noah. ”Where on God”s green earth were you able to find such beauty?” My stomach turns in disgust at his compliment, and nausea crawls up my throat. I can”t believe he really doesn”t recognize me. On the other hand, I applied my makeup differently on purpose, and my hair isn’t the same as it was the night I killed his son.
”I just happen to know the right people.” Noah lets out an arrogant, almost mocking laugh and gently squeezes my hip. His laughter vibrates through me. My chest tightens, and it becomes hard to breathe. I don”t like that side of him. Sure, he”s a notorious hitman who tried to kill me, but he has manners and is, generally speaking, respectful with women. But right now, it seems like all that respect is gone.
”So this is a business arrangement?” Mr. Williams asks, looking back and forth between me and Noah. His eyes linger on me, traveling up and down my body before flicking back to Noah.
”Sure it is,” Noah says without hesitation. He looks down at me and I offer him a soft smile while leaning into his embrace.
The conversation between the two men drifts into simple small talk, with both Noah and Mr. Williams making sure to engage with me. As Noah had instructed, I flirt with both of them, complimenting them and occasionally brushing my hands over their arms, trying to make Mr. Williams, in particular, feel desirable. Every part of my being screams for me to stop, repulsed by the way his eyes roam over my body with an intensity that betrays his intentions. But even though I feel absolute disgust for this man, I carry out my task to perfection. I can tell by the death glare that Noah shoots me from time to time when I get a little too touchy with the old man.
”So, Mr. Holman, what does a man have to do for you to cancel your little arrangement tonight?” Mr. Williams asks with a sly grin on his face. Noah looks from Mr. Williams to me and then back to the man.
”Well, I already put in a down payment. A reimbursement would be a start, maybe some extra cash since I will have to go home alone tonight,” Noah says with a grin.
”Nothing easier than that,” Mr. Williams says and grants me a smirk, biting his lower lip in what I assume is meant to be seductive, but it”s anything but; it”s nauseating. ”Just tell me how much you want.”
With sweaty palms, I hold onto Noah”s suit jacket, crumpling the perfectly pressed fabric and leaving wrinkles. A pit opens in my stomach and the nausea becomes worse. If I had any less control over my body, I would throw up right there and then. I force the smile on my face while I watch the two men discuss the price. Noah is determined to squeeze the most absurd amount out of Mr. Williams. I didn”t expect it to be that easy, but I guess the apple doesn”t fall far from the tree.
”My dear, if I may give you some advice, I think it would be best for you to stay away from men like Mr. Holman,” Mr. Williams says, sitting next to me on the sofa in his hotel room, leaning back in the cushions with one arm propped up on the back of the sofa behind me.
”Why? He seems very kind,” I ask in a sweet and naive voice. It is best to play the role of the dumb damsel with him, just as I did with his son.
”He won”t treat you right; young men like him just want to have fun and a good fuck. I”ve seen the way you look at him, all hopeful that you”ll be the escort who scores him for life.” I bite the inside of my cheek, struggling to keep a straight face and not cringe at his statement. As if he wants anything different. I know what he’s doing, I’ve had this exact conversation a million times before. He’s trying to sweet-talk me, raising the hopes of a young and naive escort for a bright future with a wealthy man in order to get me to do whatever he wants.
”Are you going to treat me right?” I lean into his embrace and take a sip of my red wine.
”I”m going to spoil you just the way you deserve, Princess,” he whispers in my ear, reaches for my glass of wine, then sets it aside and leans back into me, making the first move. His lips brush against my ear, and he places his hand on my thigh, stroking up and down my clothed skin.
A tight knot forms in my stomach as the old man continues to caress me. He”s not the first. I”ve killed plenty of older men, but the circumstances are different. I let out a soft, fake moan to indicate that I like what he is doing and lean into his touch. Closing my eyes, I wait for Noah”s signal.
Mr. Williams” hand finds its way through the slit of my dress, his fingers creeping between my legs, brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs where Noah had touched me earlier. Erasing the lingering feeling of Noah’s sweet touch with his own disgusting hands. The images of Noah”s hand between my legs, touching me, bringing me pleasure, flashes before my inner eye. Just focus on the memory of him, I tell myself.
At the sound of a soft thud from outside the hotel room I perk up.
Noah is here. I reach for the pistol hidden under the skirt of my dress. I inhale, my breath stuttering, and the old man seems to take it as a sign of arousal. He trails soft kisses from my ear to my cheek, aiming for my mouth. Raising the pistol, I press the barrel against his temple. His eyes go wide, and he tumbles back and falls onto the sofa, leaving room for me to get up and put some distance between us.
”What the hell is going on?” he asks, his tone pleading, and he raises his hands up in surrender. ”Somebody help me!” He yells, but gets no response from his security outside the room.
”No one is coming to help you. Now shut up.” I keep the pistol aimed at his head. ”On the floor, hands behind your head.”
He does as he is told and slides off the sofa, laying on his stomach with his hands on top of his head. The sound of the hotel room door lock snapping open draws both of our attention.
”Mr. Holman,” Mr. Williams pleads and tries to get up, but I slam my heel into his back, drawing a painful scream from the old man and forcing him back down. ”Help me!”
My head jerks toward the sound of familiar heavy footsteps approaching. Noah rounds the corner and strides into the room out of the narrow hallway. The collar of his once-white button-up shirt is covered in splashes of blood, and he wipes his face with his handkerchief. Ignoring the old man”s pleas, he drops his black case on the bed before strolling towards me. The look on his face is one of pride.
He”s proud of me.
He steps onto Mr. Williams alongside me, holding the man down before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. ”That”s my good girl,” he says with a purr. The vibration of his chest as he rolls the R ripples through every part of my body. My legs weaken, and I slump into his embrace. ”My perfect dove.” He leans forward to plant a soft kiss on my lips. This man will be the end of me. I grab his tie and hold him close, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
”Where did he touch you?” Noah breaks the kiss and whispers against my lips. My fingers curl around Noah”s wrist and I direct his hand to the slit of my dress, shoving the fabric aside and force his hand between my thighs. The rough but warm skin of his fingertip tingles against my sensitive skin. A low, disapproving grunt escapes Noah”s chest.
”What the bloody hell are you doing!? Kill that bitch!” Mr. Williams screams at Noah, who pulls away from me and rolls his eyes.
”Not gonna happen.” Noah lets me go and draws his pistol from his waistband, pointing it at Mr. Williams. ”Unless we”re talking about you, bitch,” he says.
Mr. Williams’s eyes go wide, and he tries to push himself to his feet. I stumble backward from the commotion. But Noah won”t let him, using his full body weight to pin the man in place. ”You traitor,” the old man screams, to which Noah responds with a mocking laugh.
”Mr. Williams, you should know better than to trust me,” Noah says. He jerks his head up and looks at me, nodding to the side. ”Give us some space, Baby.” As instructed, I step back and put a few feet between us. Noah squats down in front of the old man, grabs a handful of the few strands of hair, and forces Mr. Williams to look at him.
”What do you want?” Mr. Williams asks, his voice cracking. ”More money? You can have it all.”
”No, I got enough money out of you,” Noah says, gently tapping the old man on the cheek with his pistol. ”I”m here to kill you so that My Little Dove can spread her wings and fly free.”
I cringe when Mr. Williams” eyes land on me, and a look of realization spreads across his face. ”You”re the whore who killed my son,” he yells.
Fueled by anger, the man forces himself to his feet and tries to escape Noah. I take a few steps back but Noah tackles the man back to the ground and kneels on top of him.
”That”s not how Mommy taught us to treat beautiful ladies,” he says. ”I guess I”ll have to be the one to teach you some manners in your old age.”