It took some time before the kitchen staff packed up for the day, after prepping for tomorrow's shift. They left with their lives intact, ignorant of just how close they came to leaving this house in a body bag. You went through the kitchen and headed upstairs in your silent stalking to the second level. The mansion was barren now; everyone was either asleep or gone back to their own homes for the day.
It didn't take long before you stumbled upon Mr. Mayers's room and crept inside. You saw his mass sleeping soundly in his bed. Now, how to go about this? He was a sizable man and well-built. The chances of him overpowering you were high. You didn't have the luxury to afford any mishaps this time around. Holstering your gun, you began to wander the room in search of the things you'd need.
After a brief scavenger, you settled on the overprized plush white towels that hung on a shelf in the bathroom in which you seduced Mr.Mayers the previous night. Carefully you took a pair of scissors from the bathroom drawer and cut them into long strips. Some rope would have been better, but when in doubt, improvise.
Sauntering back to the bed, you carefully peeled back the blankets to reveal his bare upper chest. Geeze, was he built beautifully. It was too bad that the body would have to go to waste. Gingerly you grabbed one of his wrists to bring it closer to his other before wrapping the shredded towels carefully around his wrists.
You kept your movements feathery and soft to not wake him, you made sure the knot was strong and would bind him properly, and you knew as soon as you tightened the knot, he was likely to wake. You took in a breath and readied yourself; you had to be swift, as his legs needed to remain free from bondage. You took a tight hold on the tattered towels before yanking them outward and quickly locking the triple knot against his wrist, the hold so tight it pinched at his skin and cut off the circulation.
The man hissed as his eyes squeezed shut. Quickly stepping back, you reached back into your jacket to pull free your pistol and line it up with his skull. You kept a cool three-foot distance as you waited for his eyes to flutter open. Once, they had a sly smirk rolling across your lips.
"Rise and shine, beautiful~" You purred, forcing his attention to you. "Yell, and this bullet will meet your brain before you can get the second syllable out." You warned, taking a wide stance as you gave him a few moments to rise from his drowsiness.
"Kaitlyn?" He grimaced in pain as he tried sitting upon his kingly bed. His muscles rippled, and his hands instinctively tried to part but to no avail.
"Hi, sweetie~" You let your voice come out sweetly, and an innocent tilt of your head followed. You batted your lashes in his direction, mocking him with bashful flirtation. "Get up." You ordered as you placed your thumb on the hammer of the pistol and drew it back with a click.
"You can't be--"
"I said, 'Get up'." You reiterated you flicked the gun upward a few times, signaling for him to stand. Your lips flatlined, keeping your commands firm and clear. You tossed his legs over the edge of the bed and unfolded his body which was at least twice your side. You took a step back, making sure to keep a sizable distance between yourself and the towering man. "If you do what I say, I promise I won't shoot you." You said, flicking your brows up mysteriously as your smile returned to your painted lips.
He stared at his feet in thought, but you quickly tapped your own against the hardwood surface to make an attention-grabbing sound and bring his eyes back up. Quickly you averted your gaze toward the bedroom door, silently signaling where you wanted him to go.
He let his body unfurl, and his shoulders stretch. He was twice your size, and you had to admit you were a bit intimidated due to your disadvantage, but your cocky nature wouldn't allow that to show.
"Momma doesn't have all day; let's go." A heavy sigh left your lips as your shoulders slumped. Your raised arm grew tired, but you fought against the urge to lower it in the slightest.
"Where are we going?" He questioned lastly, trying to prolong the inevitable. Of course, He was trying to stall you and throw you off guard. He'd be stupid or perhaps suicidal if he didn't at least give it a shot.
"For a walk." You replied abruptly, knowing all too well the many tricks people could and would play in the face of death; you'd seen it all. Hell, you'd played them all.
Jacob turned and began to walk the length of his bed as he moved toward the bedroom door. You positioned yourself behind him a few feet, your pistol pointed at the area where the top of his neck connected with the bottom of his skull. He could easily swing around and swing his arms. Knocking you off balance before you knew what hit you if you weren't careful.
He led the way out into the hall, and you gave him a demand to take a right. He followed suit and took a right turn as he headed down the hall before coming to the open-air two-story entrance. A winding staircase leads to the ground floor.
"Stop." You called out, turning as you moved to the side to aline yourself with the stairs. "Turn right." You commanded as you ordered him to face the staircase and keep his back to you. He did as he was told, and without order, he placed a foot down on the step. "Ah! No, no." Your demand caused his foot to freeze midair for a second before putting it back where it started.
You saw his muscles tense, staring down at the jagged steps as they stretched down. The way his shoulder blades fidgeted, you could tell he was nervous, maybe even scared. You held no remorse for him. He was a job, just another assignment. That was all you saw; that's all you would allow yourself to see.
"I hope you spent the last twenty-four hours getting your affairs in order." You finally broke through the tension and stepped forward, growing closer to his shirtless frame. You took a deep breath. You exhaled a hiss from your nose as you sighed. "It's a shame, though, you weren't half bad in bed." You pouted out your lower lip as you raised your free hand to give the man a playful swat on his ass, causing him to flinch and quickly cast his gaze to the side.
He glared at you from the corner of his eyes, his anger boiling in those hazel hues. A low chuckle rumbled from your throat as you took another step back, reframing your distance as you caught his eyes. You flashed him a devilish smile.
"And you looked better as a blonde." He spat back in a pathetic attempt at an insult. Your smile grew wider as your laugh became deeper. Reaching up you ran your free hand over your head, smoothing back your contained electric blue locks in flaunt.
"I'll be sure when I wear that wig next, I think of your perky ass, Jacob." You pressed the barrel of the silencer against the back of his skull, your finger tapping softly at the trigger.
"Wait!" He called out, straightening his head forward as he stared back down at the steps. "You don't have to do this, Kaitlyn." his voice began to plea, and you could hear him gulp down his words as his frame shook.
"Sweetie, my name isn't even Kaitlyn." You laughed, your smile never leaving you. Perhaps something was empowering about all of this, having such a strong-built man shaking like a leaf before you. Hearing his voice cry, his eyes shining with the desire to stay alive.
"I can pay you. I can pay you more than whoever sent you here!" He yelled, his deep raspy voice hiking higher in pitch. As his nervousness shot up, you could see the glisten of sweat begin to form on his caramelized skin.
"I'm sure you can." You tightened your lips as you offered a casual nod of your head that he couldn't see. "But, sometimes, it's just not about the money, Jacob." Your shoulders bounced in a lazy shrug. "It's about the fact that you're screwing people over for profit." Your lips popped at the word 'profit' to emphasize your point.
"I mean, I don't give a damn, but it seems like the people I work with might." You added as your head tilted to the side. You shifted your weight to your left foot as you popped out your hip slightly.
"You're going to listen to--"
"Enough." You cut him off. Finally, lowering your right arm, you picked up your right foot and raised it high. You planted the bottom of your thick leather boot into the center of his back and kicked out.
You sent his body flying off balance; you had to put more force into your kick than you would have liked to due to the size of his body, but it was still enough to get the job done. The surprise didn't allow enough time for him to try and catch himself; even if he could, his hands were still bound. He was helpless in the face of the unforgiving structure.
Before tumbling to the side, you watched his chest collide with the jagged staircase. His neck bent unnaturally as his face scraped against the rough rug that lined the wooden staircase. His legs tensed, and he tried to bring himself to a stop but didn't even know where to start as his body tumbled forward, doing a full summersault as he continued his tumble downward. His head bounced off the lined railing so hard you could hear the crack from the wood fracturing or his skull. He picked up speed the further he fell until he finally neared the staircase's end.
Two large posts marked the end, round with beautiful carvings of majestic lion heads upon each one. You tilted your head to the side, watching with interest as his body made one last impact. The side of his skull slammed into the thick cylinder post, leaving an indent in the word before he finally crumbled to the black and white swirl marble floor below. He landed on his torso, his face turned to the side, and he didn't move, not even a flinch.
Your brows flickered upward before staring down at the rug atop the stairs. You hooked your shoe into the corner of the rug and pulled it back, making it look as though Mr. Mayers foot had perhaps snagged on the rug, resulting in his stumble. Soon enough, you made your way down the steps, careful to hop over the soft splatters of blood the man's body had left in its wake.
You reached his frame below and bent down. You touched his throat and pressed your fingers against his jugular. You waited a few seconds before finding no pulse bouncing back. You weren't sure if that would kill him; you fingered you were likely going to have to slam his skull back into the staircase or the pillars that lined the bottom for a final effect but it seemed he either snapped his neck on the way down or those cracks you heard as he fell was from his skull and did the trick for you.
You pulled your fingers back and swiped your thumb over where you had just touched to smear your fingerprint if one was left. It wasn't common for anyone to be able to lift a fingerprint off human skin, but it was possible. You made work of his restraints to free them from their bind; the soft cloth helped a mark from being left behind. You carefully repositioned his arms before raising back to your feet, stepping away from the pooling blood that was making its way closer to you.
Time was of the essence now, and you made haste toward his work office you had been just yesterday. You wasted no time pulling a flash drive from your pocket, quickly copying any importing files onto the drive, and leaving everything else untouched. Anyplace your fingers met, you wiped clean with the soft cotton of your grey tank top. Though, you weren't concerned if Mr.Mayers death didn't come back as an accident as you intended. Part of you was counting on that they'd rule it a homicide. The original plan would have been ruled that in the first place.
However, you wanted to add a bit of flare. Snagging a business card from Mr. Mayers's desk, using the fabric of your shirt to pick it up and careful not to leave a trace of your fingerprint behind, you snagged a pen from the table and quickly jotted a note on the back of the card. You slipped the card back in its place, undisturbed. It'd be a sweet little clue for detectives if they were to find it. Taking the pin with you, you slipped it between your breasts for a secure hold, not bothering to wipe it clean, and opted to take it with you.
You glanced off the hidden clue with a smirk before turning tail and heading to the nearest exit to escape before someone discovered Mr.Mayers body. The back of the card read:
'R.M is always watching'