Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

LYLA

B reakfast this morning was a delicious spread of pastry and coffee at a cafe we walked to. Now, we're wandering through the British Museum, hand in hand.

It's the most normal I've felt since I met Neo, and I don't know if I like it. I know there's an underlying reason we're here in London.

I even know her name.

I also know why her story triggered Neo to get us papers to leave the country, but I'm ignoring all of that for the way it feels to be not only his stupid girl but his wife.

It's something I never thought I'd be to him. I resigned to the fact we had something unconventional a long time ago.

Right from the get-go.

We stop in front of a painting of a naked woman. She's voluptuous and splayed on a chaise lounge with fruits and vegetables surrounding her. Her face is wistful, and her posture is leisurely.

"She looks so at peace with the world, right?" I ask Neo, turning to look up at where he's examining the painting with his head cocked to the side.

"That's what you see? I think she looks as if she's been forced to pose."

I turn back, looking at her from a different angle, with a more critical eye.

The subtle way the crook of her lips turns downward is telling, and Neo's picking it up makes me realize how much of a predator he is.

And now he's in a new hunting ground.

It doesn't trickle fear through me, though.

My stomach warms as a wrinkle of adoration carves out a pit in the lining.

Neo drops my hand, turning towards me to lean down and brush his lips against my ear.

I wore my hair in a little updo today. I know he loves it, exposing me to his playful teeth that nip the shell of my ear.

"Would you pose for me, stupid girl?"

I bristle with a gasp as his tongue flicks into my ear, causing a shiver to encase my spine and grip firmly.

"Neo."

"You would, wouldn't you? You would spread this beautiful body out for me."

"What would you do to me?"

"Paint you."

I feel that Neo Wade likely doesn't use a brush when he paints.

"How?" I ask him.

He looks around, assessing the room as he whispers, "With the sharpest blade imaginable—one so keen it would tear your flesh open before you even felt the pain. Then, I'd take my brush and use your lifeblood to varnish this beguiling flesh. You'd be my canvas and my paint, stupid girl."

My breathing is erratic, and my thighs are pressing together. My panties soak up the wetness his words coax as I turn my face into his.

The entire time he taunted me, he was watching the room, making sure I was the only one acutely aware of his massive cock pressing into my hip.

"You're a tease, husband."

His eyes turn feral on a dime as his lip curls up, and he bares his teeth. "I never knew one word could cause such a bodily reaction."

I grin. "Want me to repeat it?"

He bites his lower lip, his gaze raking over my face. Searching.

But for what?

"If you repeat it, I'll find a dark corner in this museum and fuck you senseless. Fuck you until you can't move, and they'll mistake you as part of the collection."

I lean forward, kissing him softly, as I hear a commotion near the entrance to the museum.

Neo tries to turn my face back as I swing around to see what's happening.

There are reporters everywhere as a couple moves through the museum arm in arm.

A flash of blonde hair and sunglasses catches my attention as my heart thrums.

"Is that…" I whisper, turning around fully to watch Anne Hatt and her husband move through the crowd like any other day.

As if she hadn't only been released a week ago.

Why is she already in public?

To prove she's innocent? To show face ?

As I assess their body language, I see her husband is the only one who looks apprehensive.

"Steady. Tell me what you see," Neo whispers.

His little tests are usually fun. This one has too much weight for its importance.

There's a gnawing anger clawing my stomach, and I'm not used to the feeling. It's directly related to how my husband lured me here as if he knew Anne would show up.

He knew his prey would be in the open and wanted to stalk her.

I grit my teeth, trying to tamp the anger. "She's uncomfortable. Not only does she not want to be here, but she's been forced."

Neo hums in my ear in agreement. "And who forced her?"

I run my eyes over them as Anne's husband stops them at a display of a turn-of-the-century sculpture that Neo and I had looked at a few moments ago.

Her husband's hand is gripping her arm enough that I catch a wince of pain flicker across Anne's face. She hides it well, but not well enough for the trained eye.

"He's forced her out of hiding," I whisper.

"He has. Why would he do that?"

I cock my head, rolling my mind over the puzzle of the Hatts.

"He wants her in the public eye," Neo adds. "But why?"

"His ego is tied to her strength somehow," I whisper, looking at how the man's holding himself. His chin is jutting further into the air, the more his wife shakes. "Even when it's contrived, her braving the media's scrutiny is almost…" I look the man up and down, catching so mething I bet no media worker is noticing: his hard cock. "Getting off on it. He thinks her innocent, and he's turned on by the frenzy caused by her case?"

"Is that your answer? Or are you asking me, stupid girl?"

I swallow. For once, I'm not sure. The way Anne is shaking and the way her husband is behaving confuses my usually keen eye.

The Hatts don't wander through the museum for much longer. Neo and I tail them as they look at a few more displays and then leave, the media going with them.

My anger with Neo and this entire situation is giving me the shakes, and I follow him out as he watches the Hatts get into a blacked-out SUV and head home.

I glimpse Mr. Hatt as he looks out of the window. Something dark in his eyes catches my attention, and I turn my head as my surroundings pause.

I have the distinct feeling there's something familiar living in the man.

The car speeds away, and the spell is broken. I turn to Neo, grappling with how to tell him I don't think Anne is our target, but he's already deep into doing something on his phone.

"I know you're mad at me, stupid girl. You'll have to get over that, however. We have work to do—as you just saw."

I open my mouth to say I'm not angry with him, but I know he'll taste my lie as soon as it's out of my mouth, so I close it.

For the first time, I'm pissed at Neo. It's not rational. I knew we were coming here for this, and I knew he'd need to follow through to sate the urge to kill.

But there's some deep, visceral part of me that subconsciously wanted this to be our honeymoon and only our honeymoon.

Which is irrational, being who we are.

The Butcher and his wife honeymooning in London to kill a high-profile target seems on par for us, but I can't explain this nagging feeling in my gut that wants to rage over the fact I don't have all of Neo's attention.

And I fucking hate it.

The Hatts live in a massive home in Mayfair, which gives the outward vibe that only the wealthy live here. Carl Hatt is an investment banker; by the looks of it, he's very good at his job.

The delicious smell of the fish and chips we'd gotten as a takeaway from a restaurant on the way here wafts up as I open the bag.

I open the side of the vinegar, squirting some on the fish, and I use my plastic fork to dig into my food.

Neo has been silent since we left the museum. He's engrossed in this case already.

"You need to eat," I tell him, looking up as a light flickers in the upstairs window.

Their bedroom, most likely.

"I knew how to eat before I married you, stupid wife. I'm certain I can still handle it myself," he grumbles as he scrolls on his phone.

"Mmm, I'm sure you can, husband," I prod. "I only worry about you, is all. "

He snarls, tossing his phone on the dash as he slams his hands into the steering wheel.

I don't bristle, but my pussy does, wetting my panties at his show of anger.

This is the side of me that's always been his and been the Butcher's.

I slide my food onto the dash, shifting to my right side, where he's leaning back against the headrest.

Being on this side of the car as the passenger is awkward and disorienting.

"What's going on?" I whisper, grabbing his chin and turning his face towards me.

His eyes flare as I crawl over his lap. "Tell me." I lick over the seam of his lips.

"I don't know that she's guilty. I know you don't care about things like that, but there's too much circumstantial evidence pointing to her non-guilt."

He's got the biggest heart for a man of his caliber. I don't know how I haven't noticed it before.

"The children were poisoned?"

He nods. "That's the only sure thing about this case. The children's bloodwork was riddled with household cleaners and medicines in high doses. Whatever you can think of, it was on their tox screen."

I nearly gasp at the idea. Knowing that Neo dealt with the same thing that these children had cinches my heart.

"Your mother…" I swallow, unable to finish my question.

"My mother slipped cleaners into my food. When that didn't make me ill, she'd give me medicines in high doses. She wanted to take care of me but also wanted me incapacitated."

If she weren't already dead, I'd fucking kill her myself .

"So we know they were poisoned, and surely they didn't do it to themselves. We find out who it was and right the wrong."

Neo weighs my words. "It'll be much more work than I expected, stupid wife."

His hand wraps around my throat, flexing a bit as he watches my eyes flash with arousal.

"I don't mind hard work. After all, I'm married to the Butcher of Crows Hollow. That in itself is a job, is it not?"

A rare smile curls his sinful lips as he grabs my sides, causing me to squeal and wiggle on his hardening dick beneath me. "Are you saying it's difficult to be with me, love?"

The term melts my insides, and I lean forward and hover my lips close to his.

"Never, husband."

His hands grip my hips, and I grind on his length.

"That's what I thought," he gets out.

His hands rise, curling some of my fallen hair around my ears as he tugs my face back to look at me.

"This could get very bloody," he tells me.

As if he's forgotten how I spread myself in a pool of his victim's blood back in the asylum. How I fucked myself with her blood as he watched me from the couch.

How I rode his hand over a man's dead body only a week ago.

I smile. "God, I hope so," I tell him.

His lips crash to mine in an onslaught of tongue flicks and panted breaths.

"Tell me you'll cover me in red and fuck me raw when this is over," I whisper, ragged breathing fanning over his lips as I press my forehead into his.

"Stupid girl, I'll string her up and bleed her dry as I use this cunt like my personal playground. Only if you're my good girl, though."

"How do you want me to behave?" I whimper out as he covers my pussy with his hand and squeezes.

"You be my stupid girl and listen to everything I tell you. Then you'll reap all the rewards the Butcher offers."

I moan as my head falls back, and my body arches into Neo's tight grasp on my cunt.

"Fuck, you're going to look so goddamned good in her blood."