Chapter One
The clicking of my chunk-heeled boots echoed off the sidewalk as I stepped out of the taxi. My driver, a forty something with a balding head and scruffy beard, took my $50 bill and didn’t give any change back from the $33 I owed him. “Tip,” he said, “tip” my ass.
Nevertheless, I scooched out and hustled to my destination, the fifty-story Montgomery office building. Home to several businesses, one of which was Hamn-Corp; a multimillion-dollar company that profited off of underhanded stock trading and profiting off of inflation. Their front: overseas munitions trading. Don’t even get me started on their ties with the mafia, or the fact that their CEO was embezzling thousands a year.
Which brings me to the reason I decided to walk through the door. I smiled at the secretary who directed me to Hamn-Corp’s offices on the 48th level. When I stepped into the elevator, I made sure to press the door close button immediately. There was no reason for anyone else to be here, or to get in the way. The soft cadenced ding of the elevator as it jumped floors provided a metronome to steady my breathing in quick meditation. I rolled my shoulders and arced my head back, looking at the mirrored ceiling and staring back into my own blue-grey eyes.
Is this the life you want? Do you enjoy this?
Wearing complete black made me look like a wraith, or the grim reaper, I smiled down to myself at the irony. As the final ding sounded, I put my heavily tinted sunglasses on, before the doors opened and revealed me to the world once again. The whole ensemble screamed 'mistress'.
Sherri, the CEO’s personal secretary, waved as I stepped into the private elevator that would take me up to the penthouse suite, CEO Bryce Lane’s office. To her, I was his latest mistress. Only, the truth was, I was far worse. A subtle smile graced my face as I nodded to her, walking through the hallway past her desk and stepping into the lone elevator. The clack of my heels accentuating every step of my procession.
White marble elevator doors closed in front of me, enveloping me in an ornate box of obnoxiously expensive taste. A tiger in a steel cage, I surmised. The short trip provided time for me to pat down my clothes, checking that everything was still hidden where I put it, and to straighten up my black trench coat. The luxurious feel of the elevator wasn’t lost on me, I can appreciate the finer things in life, but this was just downright gaudy. Gold trim on the walls and floor, a decorative metal bonsai tree behind me that had fine draping gold chains for leaves. It looked more like a willow tree than anything, but I guess I could see the appeal.
When the doors parted to my destination, a switch clicked in my head. The world slowed, my eyes took in every detail around me. Everything went numb, but my senses became elevated with adrenaline. Just like Jekyll and Hyde; though, I thrived better as Hyde anyway.
Bryce looked up at me as he was on the phone and grinned, raising a finger as a sign to give him a moment before swiveling his chair to face the floor to ceiling windows. I smirked, giving him his moment and pacing back into the lounge area of his suite.
Oh you poor, poor man.
There was hardly anyone on the 49th floor, at least no one underneath us. It worked out in my favor rather perfectly, I mused to myself as I put my Airpods in and pressed play. LeTigre’s Deceptacon boomed out in my ears with impressive sound quality whilst twisting on my silencer. The USB flash drive was safely in my pocket.
Bryce was still on the phone when I rounded the corner, back turned to me as I approached his desk and pointed the gun at the posterior of his skull. His voice faltered as he saw me in the window’s reflection, turning his chair around with his mouth agape.
“Jane, what’s going on?” He asked in a shaky voice. I leaned over and pressed the end call button on his office phone.
“Nothing personal, sweetheart. It’s just hard to get off when you don’t give me what I want.”
He looked like a fish out of water before I pulled the trigger. A fleshy thunk sounded as the bullet went between his eyes. Not so much as a scream.
Good boy.
His corpse flopped back in its seat, eyes rolling up slightly. That was the end of Bryce Lane.
Fucking finally. This was the most grueling project I’d been on in a while. Even the fucking couldn’t make it better, he never lasted more than a second, and all he could do was shudder like a fish out of water. Honestly, I pitied his poor wife; she definitely stayed for the money. I grabbed Bryce’s cellphone from his pocket, holding it in front of his slack-jawed face, and unlocked the phone with facial recognition. Of which, surprisingly still worked with a hole in his forehead.
My fingers tapped on security settings to change the PIN and facial recognition, then pushed Bryce out of his chair and sat down. There was a spatter of blood on his coffee cup, but I wiped the porcelain with my thumb and took a good sip from it. Not like he was drinking it anyway. The computer was already logged in, so I put some rubber gloves on and plugged my USB in, downloading all the confidential files I needed. The clock on his computer read 10:37, record time.
My foot bumped into Bryce’s hip, and I looked over my shoulder, down at his exit wound, as it was bleeding all over the carpet. His face had a contorted look, almost like he was constipated. I snorted and unplugged the flash drive. My heels clacked on tile once again as I boarded the gaudy elevator to my descent.
Piece of cake.
No one suspected a thing as I left. Sherri looked up at me whilst I crossed the hall in front of her desk, I held up a little phone sign to my ear, “He seemed to be in a meeting, maybe I’ll come back later.”
“Sounds good, take care Jane,” she smiled and sent me off with a friendly wave.
“You too,” I said earnestly and stepped into the elevator out of Hamn-Corp’s offices.
The spinning doors of the Montgomery building witnessed me walk out for the last time, and I hailed a taxi back to headquarters to make my report.
