Page 67 of My Sweet Poison
“You’re lucky I don’t kill you,” I growled as I tightened my grip. Blood smeared over her pale skin and dripped down to ruin her crisp white shirt. “Red really is your color. Maybe I should bathe you in it.”
She wrapped her small hands around my wrist and tried to pry me free. Her eyes were wide, tears starting to pool in the corners. Terror almost looked good on her.
“It’s not my fault! I tried. He wasn’t interested.”
I stepped in closer. “You had one job. Seduce my brother.”
“I told you. I tried. He’s fascinated by that townie bitch, Madison. It’s all he wanted to talk about. He wouldn’t even look at me. How were we supposed to know he’d become obsessedwith seeing her behind bars?” she choked as my grip on her windpipe cut off her air.
I moved my hand to her jaw, smearing her perfect skin with more of my blood. “You didn’t try hard enough, but you’re going to help me fix this.”
I stepped away from her, turning my back just because I knew she hated it when men didn’t look at her.
She clutched at her throat. “Yes, of course. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“I wanted you to not fucking fail. I wanted you to seduce my brother like you were supposed to, so I could take my place as the Worthington heir and then maybe I’d bail your father out of the fucking mess he made.”
“But I—” she started whining and I cut her off. That sound was going to be the death of one of us.
“You clearly have forgotten what’s at stake here. It’s not just my fortune that is on the line. Tell me, if you fail again, what are you going to do? You’re too old to model runways. They don’t like big fake tits. Are you going to marry some seventy-year-old oil tycoon, bounce on his cock for a few years before he finally dies, just for you to find out he left all of his money to his children and not you? Are you going to start an OnlyFans and sell that ass on the Internet, or are you going to do the truly unthinkable and get a fucking job?”
Her bottom lip trembled, but the crocodile tears hadn’t spilled yet. She was slipping.
“I can see you in a cute little waitress outfit now. Tell me, how long before the Botox starts wearing off and those little wrinkles in your forehead come back? What about the crow’s feet? How long will your fancy French skincare last before you have to go buy store brand? What are you going to do when your pretty blonde extensions start smelling like the hot greaseof the French fries you serve to working single mothers and their sticky-fingered brats?”
That did it. She broke into thankfully silent sobs, tears running down her face. I gave her a minute to wallow in it, in what her future held if she fucked up again.
While she tried to get herself back together, I ran my hand under some cold water before wrapping the wound in a paper towel.
“What can I do? What do you need me to do?”
“You’re going to kill my brother.”
She blinked several times as her mouth dropped open. The moisture in her eyes was already drying. She was almost pretty like that, with her makeup messed up—lipstick smeared, mascara trailing down her face—and her bloodshot eyes making her green irises pop. “You want me to kill Pierce?”
“That has been the plan from the beginning. Make the world believe I’m dead. Kill Pierce and take his place.”
My mother never tired of telling the story of how I was born with my hand wrapped tightly around the umbilical cord…which was wrapped around Pierce’s throat. It was why the doctor wrenched him from her womb first, making him the heir, and me…nothing. The second son. The spare. If only I’d succeeded then…
Skylar kept her back to the counter, circling me and escaping into the living room. She wrung her hands as she turned to face me. “Yes, but you were going to kill him. Not me! I can’t kill Pierce!”
I poured myself another drink. “You, my dear, are going to do exactly as you are told, or I’ll have to assume you are no longer of any use to me.” I allowed the unspoken threat to linger between us. “I don’t pay for things that are of no use to me. So which is it, princess? Are you gonna get your hands dirty and kill mybrother, or are you gonna get your hands dirty wiping up after middle class families?”
She broke my gaze to stare at her palms. “I didn’t think you’d really go through with all this. I thought you’d…I don’t know…move on to a different plan. You are notactuallyplanning on killing your own brother, are you?”
I smiled as I raised the glass to my lips. Taking a long swallow of the cheap, gasoline-like liquor, I said, “That is precisely what I plan to do.”
CHAPTER 33
GREYSON
Ilifted her off her feet. Keeping a hand around her throat and an arm around her waist, I carried her from behind to the bed. She kicked out, her body thrashing and bucking.
Bending her over the edge, I tore off her panties, baring her ass. Drawing back my arm, I spanked her right cheek with the flat of my palm, pleased at the satisfying pink blush that bloomed on her skin.
Hailey let out an outraged shriek as she pushed her torso up, trying to rise.
I fisted her hair, keeping her prone and spanked her ass again, this time on the left cheek.
