Raw Talent |8| The Jet Set’s Grimmest Assassin
Read Chapter Seven Here
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the vaults of the ship there lurked a dangerous weapon, caged in human form…mingling with the crew. One day a cabin boy, the next cleaning staff. Serving all the beautiful people their gluten-free truffle oil and whatnot.
How he loathed them.
The beautiful rich. There was no true beauty to them, apart from their faces, things, and hearts. They thought they were better than other people because they were born with funds they hadn’t earned. The ocean was their playground. They had no respect for it. Or anything else.
It made Eduardo sick to his rippling stomach. His taut, tanned skin burned with intensity as dark as his smouldering eyes.
Parasites! The lot of them! Seeking naught but pleasure upon pleasure. Asking for nothing, demanding everything. Wearing tuxedo-based clothing on a regular basis. Spending more in a week than an Irish Primary School teacher could earn in a year. Needing no lucrative second incomes, they shunned those that did. Be they primary school teachers, or international men of murder.
He walked among them but he was not of them. And they would pay.
Oh, how they would pay.
Particularly the one he had been sent to kill. He eyed her photograph, which he had printed out because he couldn’t crumple his phone screen menacingly. Her face. Her beautiful, perfect face, unmarred by years. The one who’d hired him had not been aware of their former connection.
She stood, hands on hips, legs akimbo, beside a spaceship she’d been in. Eduardo had never been in a spaceship. But he had been in her once, and it had ruined him for all other women.
Five hundred thousand dollars (pocket change to his employer) was already wired to a Swiss bank account, and more to follow when the job was complete. He would have iced this bitch for free.
He took the photograph out of his pocket, carefully smoothed out all the creases, glared at it and crumpled it again.
Baroness Monique Therese Yolanda Du Maison, thought Eduardo Khan, the jet set’s grimmest assassin, stroking his rapier-thin pencil moustache. Prepare to encounter an old friend. And then prepare to die. And then actually die.
For the first time in several decades, Eduardo almost smiled.
