1. Ivy

Chapter 1

Ivy

W hat other job could you get paid to dress elegantly sexy and attend a gala filled with wealthy businessmen? I mean… other than a high-class escort. Not that I look down on them at all. Au contraire. I appreciate a woman who knows what she wants and the quickest way to get there. I just prefer using my body as a weapon to kill instead of seduce—different sides of the same coin.

Besides, high-class escort is exactly the look I'm going for tonight. Men like the ones I hunt, are simple-minded monsters. They like the chase. They don't want just a pretty simpering face. They want their women to make them work for it. Then once they catch them and they're under their thrall, they break them.

No one will be breaking me though. I'm the one who's going to be doing the breaking tonight.

I smile in the mirror as I finish swiping crimson lipstick across my bottom lip. My natural violet hair is concealed under a long wavy red wig and my magical contacts turn my eyes green. My skin-tight red dress hugs my curves and flows down my legs, ending at my also red Louboutin pumps. I turn in front of my full-length mirror, appreciating how the dress accentuates all of my assets. My tits have played a large part in attracting my prey to me. Pun intended. And the heart-shaped strapless top molds to them and my sides, leaving my back bare to the top of my ass. A slit runs clear up my leg to my hip on my right side, revealing enough leg to draw in the leg men, while the fabric clings to my ass, for the assholes… I mean ass men . All-in-all, I live up to my alias' name with my patented Jessica Rabbit look.

With this much skin showing, I'm not concerned with anyone accidentally touching me and ending up dead, but I slip on my long purple gloves anyway, to complete the look.

It's a three-hour drive to the coastal mansion where the party is being hosted. A glance at my phone tells me it's time to go. If I could take my Indian Dark Horse, I'd be able to leave later, but with this dress, I have to take the Bugatti La Voiture Noire. Not that it's a hardship. It's a beautiful piece of machinery. But Scarlet gets bitchy whenever I leave her home. She hates it when I take Kira on jobs.

When I reach my garage, I walk over to my needy girl and run my hand across her deep red gas tank.

"Sorry, baby. Mama's gotta go to work. Promise I'll take you next time."

She shares her displeasure through our bond as my hand remains connected to her.

"I know. But some jobs require more subtlety. I can't take you anywhere without drawing everyone's attention. Normally I don't care, but tonight, I need to slip away unnoticed," I explain. We've had this exact conversation countless times, but it never sticks. She grumbles in my mind and I fight a smile. "Love you, Scar. I'll be back soon."

Stepping away from my spoiled bike, my heels click as I walk to Kira. I smooth my dress under my legs as I get into the driver's seat and close the door. Pressing my thumb to the scanner, she purrs to life. I feel like she uses a little more vigor than is strictly necessary, but she loves to get Scar riled up, so it's not surprising.

"Be good," I admonish her as we pull out of the garage. "You know how sensitive she is."

Her unrepentant glee fills my mind as I drive down the long driveway to the main road. "Such an instigator," I chuckle.

Her joy turns to indignation that I implied she doesn't garner attention everywhere she goes.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. I'm going to a fancy party filled with rich assholes, Kir. You fit in better than Scar in this instance," I explain, succeeding in pacifying her enough that she doesn't complain for the entire drive.

My beautiful bestie is throwing tonight's shindig. She invited my Jessica Rabbit alias knowing all the assholes on her list would salivate over her. I can't wait to see the prey she's picked for me tonight.

***

Two and half hours later, we join the line of fancy cars slowly crawling up the driveway. I guess Kira didn't appreciate my thoughts on how I'd be able to get here quicker if I k Scar. I love it when my girls take the estimated travel time as a challenge they need to beat.

I watch cars pull up and drop their passengers off at the door as a valet hops in and parks them. When we're at the front of the line, a valet comes to my door and I roll my window down.

"Sorry, kid. She only runs for me." I shrug, like hey what can ya do? "Point me to my spot and I'll take care of it." I smile at the young man whose jaw dropped the moment he looked at me. "You've got a little drool, hun." I point out sweetly.

He finally snaps out of it and wipes his mouth as he shakes his head. "Uh… Yeah… It's right over… There." He points over his shoulder as he continues to stare at me.

"Thanks, honey." I wink at him before rolling up my window and pulling away from the curb.

I find an empty spot right up front as if they were saving it for me. I'm sure that wasn't their intention, but nothing they can do about it now. And I dare anyone to try to touch my baby. My venom is all over her. If anyone other than me touches her, they'll be dead within minutes.

"I'll be back soon," I promise. "Let's see how many evil men Mommy can kill tonight."

My blood-thirsty girl sends me her vision of a floor littered with dead bodies.

"That's an optimistic number. I may have to kill everyone in attendance to make that happen," I chuckle before opening my door and placing my red-soled heel on the ground. As I slide out and stand to my full height, I realize I have quite the audience.

Time for work.