Charlotte "Hunting. And I am a hunter."

Three days. Three days since my fucking husband who was almost my ex came back into my life. Three days and two orgasms that my body missed so much.

I started rubbing my skin harder as the water flowed down me like a waterfall. I'm dirty. Unneeded. Used. The fact that he irritates me more and the desire to tear him into pieces is even stronger.

I threw the sponge aside and abruptly turned off the water. No. It is not a cold shower that can help people come to their senses, but their way of thinking. I continued to stand, trying to regain my normal breathing. Think like a hunter, not like a mouse in the paws of a cat.

My palms clenched into fists and a slow grin reflected in the glass of the shower stall. I help him - I benefit the most by using it and not allowing myself to be used. He fucked me with his tongue and fingers? I got an orgasm by mentally putting one of the most experienced men on his knees. Do I have to sleep in the same house with this bastard? So it's not me who is trapped in his trap, but I use this as an opportunity to make this place mine.

I exhaled evenly. That's better. I opened the shower door and stepped out, leaving a wet trail on the rug. After drying my hair, I twisted it into a not very attractive bun and put on pajama shorts, a voluminous T-shirt and warm wool socks. Despite the fact that it was summer, my heels were always cold. The perfect ally for an equally cold heart.

In complete silence, my feet returned to the room and I took out the same envelope that he gave me that first evening, but before I started, my gaze was riveted to the landscape outside the window. Night. I always loved to work at night. To think. To analyze. To understand everything that happened to me during the day.

So beautiful. Dark. Gloomy. Mysterious. And most importantly, quiet. It's the perfect time to commit a crime or start a hunt. Because everyone is asleep, helplessly thinking that they are in the perfection of their bedroom. But only villains do not do this. Not when they want to kill and take revenge and know that they themselves can end up underground as corpses.

I finally moved away from the window and sat on the soft bed in the lotus position, crossing my ankles. The envelope began to tear open under my fingers and I poured out five photographs and the same number of papers.

Having arranged each photo on the bed, I frowned. These people are so different. And in a simple life where I would be a simple woman, I would never recognize or see the thread that connected them. But this is not so. The mafia traitor made each of them his insurance. If I understood something when I lived in the residence of the Russian mafia, it was that their accounts were always protected.

If they are hacked, which is what happened, then there should automatically be a 10-digit code that blocks any fraud, stopping the flow of money. If there are five people, then each of them knows two numbers. But they can also tell me an interesting story about meeting a traitor, giving the opportunity to get closer to his/her personality.

I put everything back into the envelope except the information on who would be my victim tomorrow. My eyes began to run over the lines of text in the dim light of the lamp that Dean had mentioned before going to his room.

Daniel Graves. 37 years old. Divorced. Two children. Owner of a nightclub. Almost went bankrupt almost a year ago, but now his business is thriving.

I threw the piece of paper aside and took the photograph in my hands. Those grey eyes were his as it was signed for me. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out where you suddenly got your money, does it, Mr. Graves?" I crumpled the photo with all my might. "It's a shame you're in my hands now. And believe me, money won't save you from my poison."

***

"Hey, little killer, wake up, it's already three o'clock in the afternoon, you'll sleep through your first case." The voice that had begun to irritate me sounded in my sleep and ears, forcing me to press my cheek harder to the pillow.

"Can my day get any worse?" I swallowed and opened my eyes. He was there. "It was a rhetorical question, not a challenge." I mattured.

"I'm offended." Dean laughed and walked inside. "I thought we were friends." "Get out of here." I sat up slowly, realizing that my entire body was numb from how uncomfortably I had fallen asleep. The man rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed, starting to wave a similar envelope that I already had in front of my nose, bending over. "Would you like to take a look at the details of this evening?"

My mood immediately improved and I happily took the envelope, immediately tearing it open. "Oh my God, look how happy she is before the murder." "How can you dare...killing is too bad." I looked at him. "I'll tell you, jail is no fun." "You've been in jail?" "Once, in Monopoly."

"Give me strength with these Kirillovs." He whispered and started to walk towards the door. "I'll go before you get the idea to use me again." "Stop." His body immediately froze and his palm dropped to the door handle. "Too late." "Too bad." He turned his head in my direction. "How can I serve you, my little killer?"

"You will come with me today." "Have you and Roman decided to kill me?" He shouted with wide eyes. "I won't go, take Lin or Roman." "No."

He pressed his lips tightly together and left the room, and a small feeling of victory spread through me like a balm. I love men. Especially when they are on their knees in front of me.

***

I leaned forward a little towards the bathroom mirror slowly applying red lipstick. Red dress, red shoes and red lipstick. The perfect combo to ruin a night out for a nightclub owner.

The plan was almost too simple. Come at the exact time, seduce him and handcuff him to the bed to torture. Find out. Soak in someone else's blood.

That's the power of a woman. It's enough to cloud an opponent's mind and hit him in the nuts. Boom. I looked at my reflection.

Bright eyes followed my husband as he appeared and they met his gaze. He clenched his jaw and frowned. His fingers touched the ropes of my dress that were on my back and I broke our visual gaze, trying to think about anything but his touch.

"You absolutely decided to kill me." Our eyes met in the mirror again as he pulled my dress tight. "Not today. I didn't bring a weapon with me. At least not till tonight." In one motion, his hands pulled me towards him. "You don't need it when you look like that." He whispered. "You are breathtaking."

"Then choke." I swallowed. "I don't give a damn how much you want me or what you think when you look at me." "Is that why you're all in red?" One question sent my brain into past mode, pulling up an old memory. "My damn favorite color on you, krasavica."

*** 3 years ago...

"Why red?" Roman asked when I came out of the bathroom." I blinked. "Oh, there you are." I rolled my eyes and walked into the closet to pick out some high heels.

"Where else should I be according to you?" He followed me. "I don't know. I see you so rarely that..." I lowered one heel into the shoe. "I wish in the hell." Now both heels were in the shoes, all that was left was to fasten the clasps and I could leave and pretend to be the perfect wife of the perfect husband.

I didn't even have time to bend down to do it before he dropped to his knees.... On your damn knees. One of the most dangerous men in this city is doing exactly that right in front of me right now. "Actually, Natasha has already washed the floor." He chuckled silently.

"You're on your knees in front of me." Goosebumps attacked my skin as his fingers touched my leg. "And you're zipping up my shoes." "And what?" "Where is your ego?" "In your hands."

I silently stared at my husband, no longer understanding anything, and realized that I had to say something when Roman had already stood up. "You asked why red." I came up close to him. "Because that's the color associated with our marriage. Blood."

***

I closed my eyes to return to reality. "I'm glad your taste has improved." I turned my head to look at the real him now, not his reflection. "Why did you come?" "Lin will go with you." It sounded like an order. "It will be Dean." I refused. "It will be my brother."

"Why make things so complicated?" "Because she's your dog, so she can stay with her owner." I pushed him away, my heels clicking loudly on the tile as I headed for the exit. "And yes, Cade, you touch me again without my permission and I will kill you. Now you can be my dog and wait for me and Dean in the room.

I grabbed my clutch bag from the bed without even looking back and grabbed my phone before putting it in my bag, checking my brother's text messages on the way. "Come here. Now!" Cale's voice rang out as I opened the door." "Say word "please" and maybe I'll let you spank me for being so naughty. Lightly." I slammed the door and now all my attention was definitely on the texting and not falling down the stairs.

Me: Hello, my beloved brother. Alex: I checked everything. Everything is clean and the information is correct. I'm fine. Alex: Be careful. Love you. Me: I don't know how to be careful. And love you too.

I pressed the elevator button, putting my phone in my purse and looked at Dean, who was looming darkly next to me like a shadow. "Afraid?" "No." "Then don't tremble." I chuckled. "Nothing will happen to you." "Really?" He asked as the elevator door opened and we walked inside. "Yes. Because even if we are killed, you will die with a great woman, but know that killing someone like me is very difficult." I winked at him and the elevator door closed behind us.