Chapter Text
Mezrah
Mezrah had received many gifts over the years, but receiving the wedding ring of a man’s dying wife wasn’t a gift she got often.
She held her hand out in front of her face and stared at the thick band of white gold. The diamond at the center of it was large with an excellent cut and stunning clarity. Spending years around rich men had sharpened her ability to tell how much things were worth, and this ring was worth a fortune.
But even the most valuable of things could be given away cheaply.
“You like it?” Luc settled onto the mattress beside her, fresh out of the shower. She continued admiring the ring, paying him no mind as he kissed her shoulder. “I got that made especially for you.”
What a charming liar, she thought dryly, rolling onto her back so she could feed him that seductive smile he liked so much. She was naked under these snow-white covers, surrounded by cushions so soft, it felt like she was being held up against a bosom made of clouds. They were in a beautiful penthouse room, walled up by windows that gave you the illusion of a never-ending sky surrounding you. Mezrah adored the view from up here, loved looking down and seeing how vast the city was—loved being reminded of how far she could go when it came to sucking this place dry of its riches.
Luc slipped his naked, perfectly sculpted body over hers, crushing her against the mattress as they kissed. He was a decent kisser—far from being the best, but not bad. A solid 7/10. She broke off the kiss to breathe out her response. “Thank you, baby. I love it.”
She then spread open her legs, knowing he’d want a reward for his “thoughtful” gift. Men like Luc always did. He wasted no time in pushing himself inside her, following motions that would get him off the best.
While he did what he wanted, she made sure to arch her back when needed, moan in pleasure when it was expected. She could tell, just like all those other times, that he wasn’t going to make her come. In the two weeks she’d been dating him, she hadn’t experienced a single orgasm…but that was no surprise. After all, the men she kept gravitating to were always more concerned with pleasuring themselves than their partner.
“Oh, god.” Luc burrowed his face into her neck, his thrusts getting more aggressive. He was close to climaxing—that made one of them. “Judy…fuck, Judy, you’re amazing!”
Judy…the name of his dying wife. Mezrah wasn’t a stranger to using different names, but this was slimy. It was Luc’s idea to call her that, like some kind of weird role-play. From what she understood, this was his stupid way of keeping his wife close and his guilt at bay.
Pathetic. The word danced along her tongue while she kissed Luc, tempting her to push it down his throat. Luc here believed he was a good guy; it wasn’t his fault that his wife fell ill, that taking care of her was too much work, that he couldn’t stay celibate for her. He was just a man—he had needs of his own. Fucking other women wasn’t a big deal so long as she never found out. Besides, he wasn’t going to officially leave her until after she passed away. Wasn’t that nice of him? Sure he’d been avoiding seeing her for weeks and been reluctant to keep paying her medical bills, but he deserved sympathy too, right? This wasn’t what he signed up for.
She laughed to herself. Wedding vows were a fucking joke. Fidelity was too.
Luc grunted in surprise when Mezrah flipped him onto his back, straddling him. “Wanna ride me that badly, huh?”
His cocky smile was met with one of her devious ones. “I wanna do more than ride you…when are you gonna introduce me to your friends?”
His smile fell right off his face. “I told you, babe. With my wife still around, that can’t happen.”
“Why not just kill her?”
Luc completely froze. “Excuse me?”
“Why not just kill her?” she repeated slowly, kissing down his neck. “She’s gonna die soon anyway, right? So, speed things up.”
“That’s…” he trailed off, getting distracted by her kisses, her roaming hands. Eventually, he found his words again. “That’s not funny, babe.”
“What makes you think I’m joking?” She bit down on a sensitive spot on his chest, making his breath hitch. “It should be easy for a rich boy like yourself. Hire someone to do it.”
“You are fucking twisted.” There was no disgust or anger in his voice as he said this. He was too busy moaning and moving against her hand as she stroked him. When she sped up her movements, he sped up his words. “We can’t just kill her, babe, that’s just not—oh, harder…yes, baby, keep doing exactly that.”
Mezrah smiled while she watched him close his eyes, felt him shuddering beneath her. He was more concerned with avoiding blue balls than condemning her suggestion to kill his wife. She bet he’d even let her do the killing if she promised to blow him right afterwards.
Luc swore when Mezrah shoved him inside and started riding him. “It doesn’t seem to turn you off whenever we talk about your wife passing. In fact, I dare say it’s a major turn-on for you.”
Luc showed no signs of listening. He was encouraging Mezrah to go faster, harder, so she delivered, making his moans louder.
“You have more stamina than a lot of the guys I’ve been with,” she noted.
“I don’t wanna hear about the other men you fucked,” he reminded her, still grunting in pleasure. “In fact, get used to not talking about your dating history. When our relationship goes public, we can’t have people thinking you’re a slut.”
Mezrah held back her reaction. “Shouldn’t be much of a problem since you’re a slut too.”
“Men can’t be sluts,” he said, holding her hips in place. This whole time she’d been riding him, he hadn’t once noticed her lack of moans. “It’s, like, a primal need for us to be sexually active. Proven science.”
She didn’t bother to hide her eyeroll—wasn’t like he was paying attention to her anyway. If he was, he would’ve been offended by how bored she looked while he was giving her what he was probably thinking was the ride of a lifetime.
Mezrah looked at the ring again. It didn’t take her long to come to a decision.
“Ya know, Luc,” she said slowly, still looking at the ring, “I was gonna turn you into stone…but I feel like that’s too merciful. I’d much rather watch the life fade from your eyes as you bleed out.”
Luc didn’t register her words at first; he was too busy trying to recover from his last orgasm. But once her words sank in, he furrowed his brow, accentuated by his lazy smile. “Are you suggesting some kind of foreplay?”
Mezrah’s smile was slow and sharp—but not as sharp as the fangs breaking through her gums. “Sure, babe,” she cooed, each one of her locs shivering to life in the form of snakes. “Let’s do some foreplay.”
Luc didn’t have time to scream. While his eyes went big, mouth dropping open, her own eyes glowed green, pupils becoming slits, while she exposed her fangs and sank them into his neck.
In one swift, violent motion, she tore open his throat, leaving his screams soundless while blood spilled and pooled beneath him, staining the snow-white sheets. Mezrah watched closely while he desperately gripped his throat, trying to stop the bleeding. He gasped and gurgled and choked on the blood filling his mouth, his eyes bugging out of his head. While he seized under her, she stayed on top of him, staring the whole time while he tried clinging to the last strings of his life. But they were slipping from his fingertips, one by one, until there was nothing left to grip.
“Hmm.” She wiped Luc’s blood off her lips with the back of her hand. “I may have taken the foreplay a bit too far. So sorry, babe.”
Luc couldn’t respond. All that was left of him was his corpse, after all, and corpses didn’t talk. Not unless an ability-user made that possible.
Luc, she knew, didn’t have that gift. Rather, he had no gifts, which made him perfect for her. An irresistible target.
Mezrah pushed away the snakes trying to crowd her face and got up from the bed, in need of a shower. She didn’t have to worry about the cleaning staff stopping by, so she let herself fully unwind, humming one of her favorite songs while she took off her eye contacts and Judy’s ring.
She was going to get a lot of money from selling the ring and that alone put her in a good mood. Half of Luc’s funds she had already taken for herself and the other half she put under Judy’s name. If she managed to survive her illness, maybe she could find a less pathetic man to marry next.
She smoothed back her hair, each snake hissing and curling around her fingers until they were back to being locs. While she washed herself, she thought about what her next move should be, if she should take a break before finding the next man to leech off of or if she should hit the club tonight. Her planning was put on pause when she heard past the shower’s running water—a loud noise coming from the other side of the bathroom door. The ruckus had her turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. Whoever just entered her room clearly didn’t care about being quiet, so they weren’t a worker here and they weren’t an assassin.
Chances were good this was a bounty hunter.
Dammit. She didn’t bother with a towel or putting on her contacts. A break-in wasn’t something she was prepared for, especially so soon after a murder, but it was what it was. She doubted this would take long anyway; one moment of eye contact was all it took to win.
So, she opened up the bathroom door and walked out, ready to face the man who had come for her head.