Chapter 1

It was a cold night, and the time was twenty minutes past eleven. Up in the sky, there was a big, white moon like the face of a dead man. It cast its hard white light over the bungalows and rows of palm trees that lined the beautiful streets of Millionaires Rows. In one of the apartments meant for the stinking rich, Jessica Hill could be seen sitting stiffly in a lounge chair, a stick of cigarette hanging limply from her well-shaped lips.

She was dressed in a pale-green wool sweater that emphasized the swell of her full breasts and a short black skirt that showcased her long, tapering white legs. Her long dark hair was pulled back with a narrow ribbon, and as she sat in the lounge chair, one could see she had the air of authority of a woman who was very sure of her beauty.

There was a cold expression on her face and her dark, blue eyes stared hard at her cell phone and the gold telephone on the well-polished table in the living room. Her mind was on fire. She was awaiting the call of her lover, Kevin.

She shifted uneasily, drew smoke into her lungs, and then blew a long stream to the ceilings. Why does he always keep her waiting? She thought. The other night when he had called, he had told her he would call her the next day so that they could fix the date she was to meet his family, so why had he not called?

She thought of the long nights waiting for his calls that she had endured from him in the past, and she wondered how she had been able to sail through it. She had often told him that if he were too busy to call, she would gladly call him. Yet he wouldn't accept this simple logic, telling her he would be too busy to pick up her calls. I was born stupid, she told herself. If she had not been stupid, she wouldn't have fallen in love with an uncaring and unfeeling person like Kevin.

She had refused many advances from lots of men—Old men, rich men, handsome men, rich playboys, well-known bachelors, and intelligent business-men—all because of him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted a man in her life. His good looks and violent, short-lived temper were strong male qualities that appealed to her. That was why she had often discussed settling down with him.

And yet, she often asks herself, why should he care about her? He was very handsome, rich, and quite charming, and he could have any young girl he ever wanted, so why should he give a damn about a love-struck thirty-five-year-old woman sitting in a chair waiting for him to call?

For weeks she had been wondering how much longer it would last. Whenever he kept her waiting like this, there was always this sickening, frightening fear that he had found a woman much younger and more beautiful than her, or maybe he had planned to give her the brush off but didn't know how to go about it.

Then she would hear the telephone ring, and his husky voice telling her how much he loved her, and all the fear would go away. She had always promised herself to rebuff him for his carefree attitude and late-night calls. And maybe tell him to go to hell for all she cares. Inwardly, she knew she wouldn't. Damn him!

She eased her stiffness by stretching out her long, slim legs, and she dragged her eyes to the expensive wristwatch he had bought for her. It was past her bedtime. Maybe he wouldn't call tonight, but she doubted it. He always calls. He would make the call. She was sure of that. This night was no different from any other, so why should she worry herself sick? She pulled herself together and crushed out the cigarette. Then she got up from the chair and crossed the room to the cocktail cabinet.

She fixed herself a drink of whisky and ice and sipped it. Then the cell phone started into life. Its sudden sound made her slop her drink and turn white.

At the same time, the sound flooded a great relief through her body. Finally, he had called! She dropped the glass on the bar counter and hastily padded to the telephone, her heart hammering as she snatched it up. She didn't even bother to check the caller's name.

“Oh, my darling,” she babbled, sweat glistening on her forehead. “I missed you so much. I've been waiting for so long."

“Sorry! It's Mira, ma'am,” the voice on the other end said.

Jessica's body trembled as the sickening bile of disappointment hit her hard in the stomach. It was a female voice. It was not his voice.

“Who did you say it was?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Mira! From Due's Fashion Store! We've got some new dresses that just arrived from Italy. I just wanted to tell you about it."

Jessica gripped the telephone to her ear, her hands clammy with sweat. The hurt she had felt had shaken her violently and it made her voice seem paralysed.

“Hello! Are you there?” the caller continued.

Jessica snapped out of her trance.

"What store is that?"

“Due’s Fashion Store! It’s on Lincoln Road Mall."

In her vaguest memory, Jessica remembered the name. It was one of those happy, lazy days when Kevin had taken her out on a shopping spree, and he had bought almost all the items in one of the clothing stores they had visited. Mira, the salesgirl, had been so shocked she had begged her for her number to update her on any of their new collections.

“You’ve got to be wet behind your ears, girl!” she said, a bite in her voice. “Don’t you know the time you're calling?"

“I’m so sorry, Ma'am. It won't happen again. I'll be more careful next time," she apologized.

“There won't be a next time," she said hotly. “I promise you that." And she ended the call.

Fuming and muttering incoherent words to herself, she tossed the phone onto the sofa, crossed the room to the bedroom, and went into the bathroom. When she was done in the bathroom, she came back to the room with a look of wild rage and contempt on her beautiful face. She flopped hard into one of the settees and curled up her legs. As a result of the drink she had, she felt her body relax. A little lightheaded and drowsy, her thoughts shifted slowly to Kevin.

Her mind went to the day she had met Kevin and how she had fallen in love with him. She remembered how he had taken her to his home, then into his bedroom. His fierce, brutal, self-lovemaking was something Jessica had never experienced. That first sordid act of so-called lovemaking chained her to him, excusing his selfishness, self-centeredness, and forgetfulness.

But now the thought of the violent lovemaking they had snapped something in her head. and unable to control herself, Jessica, slightly drunk, sat on the settee and slid one of her well-manicured fingers into her mouth, took it out, and slid into her panties. She caressed the soft triangle of hair before inserting the wet finger into her vagina, and she began to thrust with desperate urgency. She thrust harder and harder, her mouth opened, and her breath came in short gasps as she felt herself coming. Then suddenly, she stiffened.

What was that? She listened, and there was a ping on the doorbell. She glanced at the wall clock. It was almost midnight now. Who could it be? She wondered, frowning. None of her friends would dare visit her at this odd hour. She waited. Perhaps, whoever it was would realize this was the wrong house and go away. But the doorbell rang again. At that moment, she knew whoever it was, knew she was home. Muttering to herself, she took her fingers from her wet panties, rose to her feet, and walked down the passage to the front door. She slid off the door latch and opened the door.

A tall and powerfully built man stood in the doorway. He was clad in frightening black clothes. On his face was a black ski mask. In his hand was a 9 mm Luger, fitted with a silencer. Jessica's face turned white as clay as she stared at the man. He grinned viciously. Then he raised the gun and aimed it at her face.

“You dirty bitch!” he said in a cold, savage voice. “This is for you!” And he squeezed the trigger.

The slug smashed into her skull, and the force of the blow flung her backwards. She fell on her side and rolled over on her back, her skirt coming up over her thighs.

For a brief moment, the man remained motionless, a wisp of smoke drifting from his silencer as he stared at the blood that was forming a red halo around her head. He knew she was dead. No one could get shot in the head like that and not be dead.

He drew in a long, slow breath, holstered the gun, and walk into the night, the darkness pressing on him. He did not look back.

***

Kevin Carter looked up from the paperwork he was working on as his secretary, Maya Roxy, came into his office. Roxy was around twenty-six years old, tall, dark, with a good shape accentuated by heavy full breasts that always strained against her well-ironed shirt. Her solid hips and heavy buttocks could drive any man insane, and she was one hundred percent efficient. She had been Kevin's secretary for more than three years now, and during those years, he had considered her one of the valuable gifts life had bestowed unto him.

“Look! Roxy, don't tell me all that is for me?” He said with a deep frown on his handsome face. “I won't touch it!"

“You’re going to touch it, sugar," she said to him as she walked over to the table, a sheaf of papers in her hands. She rested her hips against the desk, placed the paper on it, and regarded Kevin's face.

“I’m so sorry, Kev, but the mail just kept coming in today."

Kevin eyed the thick pile of papers distastefully. He was tired, and the one thing he wanted to do was crawl into his car and go home. For a long moment, he stared at the papers, and then he shrugged his powerful shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it. I'll handle it."

Roxy, who had been patiently waiting for him, nodded and lifted a well-shaped brow at him.

“Do you care for a cup of coffee?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Not at all!” Kevin answered promptly. “What I really need now is to get these damn papers over with."

Roxy stood, watching him as she battled with the feelings inside her, then she said all right, and swinging her heavy buttocks deliberately at him, she left the office.

Kevin watched her go, a leery look on his face. He loved beautiful women, and he had made a point to employ the beautiful ones. He knew Roxy was in love with him, but he knew if he got entangled with her, she might become love-struck and lose her efficiency, which would be disastrous because Kevin was undeniably lazy. He had come to rely strongly on her efficiency.

At the age of thirty-six years, Kevin Carter was considered one of the most handsome and eligible bachelors in Miami City. He was big and powerful. Long hours in the summer sun had burned his body to a golden bronze. His compact, heavily featured face, deeply dimpled chin, strong hard mouth, and steady icy blue eyes made him extraordinarily handsome.

He was one of the youngest billionaires in Miami. His source of wealth had come from his parents, who had left him a more than comfortable sum of money plus a vast company (Carter Steel & Metals) before their death. Since then, he had been managing the company and because he was active and very ambitious. At that time, he was able to add more to his ample wealth and made the company one of the fast-growing, rich companies in all of Florida.

But Kevin had a weakness. He had the hots for beautiful women, and he loved sex. When it came to women, he was lost. The sight of anything in skirts or tight-fitting jeans rushed blood into his head and left him breathless. To him, women and sex were the most natural things; they were something to enjoy, not to worry about, or fuss about. Something to have when it comes and to wait for when it wasn't there. He knew he should be worried about his utterly uninhibited need for sex, but nothing worried Kevin. His philosophy was that something must kill a man, and for him, if that thing was a figure in a tight skirt, tight jeans, or skimpy bikini, then he was ready to lay down his life.

He had a golden rule. He never wasted his time with a woman before moving to another one. For him, women were like toys that were meant to be toyed with for some few weeks, and then quickly disposed of.

He had had so many women in his life that he sometimes forgot about some of these women easily. He had made it a rule never to let the thought of one particular woman hold him down or bother him. He was used to them fawning over him, and for this reason, the thought of ever pining over a particular woman always angered him. He was sick of women who gave themselves to him only to involve him, to shackle him, to trick him into anything he was not ready to dabble into.

It took him almost an hour to work through the pile of papers on his desk. By then, he was totally drained, and his mouth felt dry. He heaved heavily like a man who had just run a long metre race and leaned back in his armchair. He took out a white handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped the sweat that had beaded on his forehead.

He reached for a pack of Marlboro cigarettes on his desk, lit one, and inhaled the smoke deeply. Then he let out the smoke slowly from his mouth. He checked his watch and grimaced. The time was past seven; how time flies, he thought irritably.

He got up from his chair and took his jacket off the peg. He struggled into his jacket, and then he picked up his suitcase, moved towards his office door and opened it. He left his office and found Roxy, clicking away on her Apple laptop. She looked up as he came into her office, her dark eyes taking in the tired, haughty look on his face.

“I’m done for today, Roxy! You can clean up after I'm gone. Don't expect me tomorrow. I ain't coming."

A worried look flashed on Roxy's face.

“But Kevin, you have an important meeting with Mr. Williamson. He wants to meet you concerning the steel we're going to supply him for Miami's bridge project."

“Hold him off!” Kevin snarled. “I can't kill myself. We'll do the meeting another time."

“We’ve been holding him off for weeks now. If we continue to stall this meeting, he might go to another competitor."

Kevin's body boiled with anger. He wanted to tell her to hell with Mr. Williamson, but he knew she was telling the truth. Williamson was one of their most profitable customers and they could not afford to lose him.

He brooded for a moment. He remembered he was meeting two of his best female friends in one of the most expensive restaurants in South Beach the following day. They had promised to hook him up with one of their attractive friends. Kevin could not miss that kind of opportunity.

“I’ll see what I can do," he said, not trusting his voice. “But if you don't see me tomorrow, I think you should handle the meeting. You can handle it, can't you?"

“I…I…” Roxy stammered.

“Yes, you can,” Kevin said, and he moved towards her and planted a kiss on her glossy red lips. He felt her shiver, and he smiled knowingly. Then he moved away from her.

“Bye, Roxy! Think of me tonight, sweetie.” And he walked out of the office, leaving her staring hard at his broad back, a shocked expression on her beautiful face.

Kevin moved through the company's vast garage until he got to his big glittering Rolls Royce. He opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. He thumbed the starter and deftly manoeuvred the car out of the garage. A few minutes later, he was on the hot, busy highway, and he drove fast towards Key Biscayne Drive, where he had a four-bedroom penthouse.

He arrived and drove into the underground garage which held a glittering Bentley, Ferrari, Aston Martin, and a big Cadillac. He stepped out of the car, and a few seconds later, he walked into an expensive lounge, expensively furnished with a terrace overlooking the bay. Down one side of the room, protected by a glass screen, orchids of every colour and description grew in long colourful ropes. The decor of the room was done in white and black.

He tossed his suitcase on a settee and moved towards the cocktail bar. He loosened his tie, and then he lifted a bottle of Campari from the wine shelf and placed it on the well-polished countertop. He took off the bottle's lid and poured a stiff shot into the glass cup, and then he added lime juice and tossed the liquid down his throat. He closed his eyes as the drink washed over him and loosened his nerves. He filled the glass again, and drank again, rolling the liquid in his mouth before swallowing it.

After the drink, he felt much better, and he could think clearly. He went into the bedroom, took off his tie, struggled out of his clothes, and went into the bathroom. He showered, came out of the bathroom, dried himself thoroughly and donned a red and gold patterned dressing gown. He went into the kitchen and heated up some cold chicken, steak, and black coffee. He finished his food and washed it down with the coffee. Then he washed the cup and saucer, and he went into the living room He sat down on a lounge chair, took out his phone and began to glance through the contact lists. It was then he saw the name Jessica and he bolted upright. The name sent a watt of electricity down his spine. He stared at the name for a long moment, not believing his eyes. For Christ sakes, he said aloud, how could I have forgotten Jessica for a whole day? What kind of man am I, he thought angrily? He quickly dialled the number and waited. The operator told him the number was switched off.

He cursed himself and dialled her number again. The operator repeated the same info to him. Vexed, he flung the phone on the chair and stood up from the settee, his mind busy with thoughts. Switched off, he thought. This was a baffler! He had always called Jessica every night after coming back from the office, and never once had her cell phone been switched off. But the previous night, he had failed to do just that, and that was because he had been dead after coming back from the office. Regretfully, this night would have been like the previous night if he had not checked his contacts.

Some weeks ago, he had met her in one of the expensive night clubs in Miami Beach. They had hooked up, and since then, they had been seeing a lot of each other. She was extremely beautiful, he had to give her that, but she struck him as odd. During the time they had been going around together, she had shocked him by telling him she wanted him to marry her.

At first, he had thought she was crazy, and all this was a joke, then he started to discover things about her, things that made him wary of her. He felt she wanted more than just sex from him.

She had told him blatantly she would marry him at the drop of a hat. He had the looks, money, and affluence. All the things that made up a complete man. So why should they not get married and have kids?

It was then he had the feeling she was really crazy about the idea of settling down, and ever since then, he had been looking for ways to give her the brush off.

His mind went back to the lie he had told her about taking her to meet his family, and a smile tugged at his lips despite himself. She had it coming, he told himself. It was always fun cooking up lies for any woman he dated and watching them swallow it hook, line, and sinker. He always got a big bang out of it.

He eyed his cell phone for a long moment and picked it up. Then he redialled her number. The operator repeated the same thing. He moved towards his telephone, picked up the receiver, and dialled her telephone number. It rang for some time, but there was no answer.

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. To hell with her, he thought bitterly. He could always get another chick if this one was indisposed. And because he had a trained mind, he turned his mind away from Jessica to the girls he was meeting the next day. Before sleeping that night, he had totally wiped out the thought of her from his mind.

He couldn’t know that Jessica Hill had been lying dead in her apartment for more than twenty-four hours now, her face smothered in blood.

***

“You know what? For now, I am not interested in any man,” Ella said, looking into the eyes of her two friends.

They were sitting in one of the expensive restaurants in South Beach. Ella was a blonde girl. She was beautiful, with big marvellous eyes and a body that could only be the exact model of the perfect woman: heavy breasted, slim waist, solid hips, and long tapering legs. Her two friends were not bad looking. Rose was tall with an oval face, big grey eyes, and a perfect mouth that any man would love to kiss. Jane had an elfin face. She was of medium height, with crystal blue eyes, a pert nose, ample bosom, and straight legs.

The three friends had met in a club in Miami Beach. They had quickly become aware of their outrageous beauty and had taken a liking to one another. Ella was an air hostess, Jane modelled for Victoria’s Secrets, while Rose was a professional hairstylist in Lincoln Road's big salons. Money was not one of their problems.

The only difference between Ella and her friends was that she did not have a boyfriend and was not ready to settle down with any man. Rose and Jane had tried every possible option to hook her up with some men, but Ella was not interested. She had met plenty of different men—the eligible bachelors, the playboys, rich old men who stink of wealth, good looking gigolos—but none of these men stirred anything in her. To her, these men were just like the normal people who walked the busy streets of Miami.

“I don't believe you,” Rose continued, narrowing her eyes at Ella.

“But why don't you believe me?” Ella said, looking surprised. Her lovely eyes almost bulged out from their sockets.

“The answer is simple,” Jane said. “You’ve not met the right man. If you meet him, you won't say you are not interested in any man. Women all over the world are falling in love every day, and you are saying you are not interested. You must be kidding."

Rose inclined her head to show her support for Jane's words.

Ella laughed.

“That is very wrong for you to say, Jane. I've met all the guys in the whole of Miami, and for me, that's enough. Tell me, who is there to meet again?"

Rose looked sharply at Ella.

“Surely, you're not a lesbian, right?”

Ella laughed again, her big eyes sparkling with amusement.

“What if I am?” she asked. “Would that be a bad thing?

Rose shook her head.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said. “But look at you, girl, with this beautiful body. You’re wasting it by not being with a man!”

Ella shrugged her shoulders, but she did not say anything.

Jane looked at Rose and winked.

“Have you heard of the name Kevin Carter?” Jane asked, facing Ella.

“Who the heck is Kevin Carter?” Ella asked, rolling her eyes mockingly.

“Kevin is a hunk who could melt you like butter, baby. Most girls in Miami have the hots for him,” Rose said.

“You mean most stupid girls have the hots for him, right? Ella asked. “If that's the case, then I believe such a man should be avoided."

Jane lifted a well-shaped eyebrow at her.

“Once you get involved with Kevin, you won't wish to stop. Believe me, Ella. I know what I'm saying. That man is dynamite!"

Ella studied her friends and she saw they were serious. There was something about the look on their faces that told her they were hiding something from her.

“Is there something you guys are not telling me?” she asked, her voice loaded with suspicion.

“Well, if you must know,” Jane replied, a jeering light in her eyes, “We've known Kevin for quite sometimes now. In fact, he wants to meet you. We told him about you, and he says he would really like to see you."

“What?” Ella said, looking dumbfounded. “Is that why you both forced me into this restaurant to come and see a guy you both are stupidly melting over."

“Why are you tripping, girl?” Jane retorted, spreading her hands, “We brought you here because we are your friends, and we thought you would be interested in meeting a new guy since it has been a long time since we've seen you with any man."

Ella looked at her friends with astonishment. How could they do this to her, she thought, setting her up with a man whose existence was unknown to her?

“I don't believe this,” Ella said harshly, and she pointed a well-manicured finger at her friends. “You guys are my friends, and I expect you to know better. I hate blind dates! They don’t work for me! Please, just mind your business and leave me alone."

Unable to control her rising anger, Jane stood up from her chair and faced Ella.

“Ella! You are taking this too far. We just want you to meet our friend, that's all. Rose was even the one who suggested we should bring you along today. Kevin is a nice guy, and I am sure you will love him. As a matter of fact, all girls love him.”

Ella sniggered.

‘You know what?” she said, looking angrily into the eyes of her friends. “I think I have had enough for today. You guys can clear the check. I'm going home." She picked up her Chanel handbag and moved away from the table, her friends staring at her with puzzled expressions on their faces.

She was about to reach the entrance when she remembered she had forgotten to pick up her car keys. She stopped abruptly, turned, and walked back to the dinner table, then she stiffened when she saw a man talking to her friends. Who was this man, she asked herself as she walked back to the table? The man raised his head, and Ella was confronted with a face that was so uniquely perfect.

The man was tall and powerfully built, and he was very handsome with thick black hair and stormy blue eyes. There was a lazy smile around his mouth as he looked at her quizzically. He really made an impact on her.

He wore a well-cut dark blue jacket suit with brown loafers. The suit clung perfectly to his figure. As she walked back to the table, she felt a rush of blood through her, and she cursed herself for feeling this way. She raised her head high as she reached the table.

"Hello!” he said to her. “I'm Kevin Carter. What's your name?”

She stared at him for a moment.

"My name is Ella. Ella Brown," she said and swallowed hard. Her heart was jumping about like a freshly landed trout, and she could not think straight.

“Ella! Such a beautiful name," he said, testing the name on his lips. “Well, nice to meet you, Ella, but if I may ask, why did you walk away angrily like that?” He was staring hard at her.

Ella wanted to talk, but she felt her throat thicken. She felt so naked under his gaze. She looked at her friends and saw them staring hard at her. Fools, she thought. No wonder they were so smitten by this handsome hunk. There was something about this man that stirred something in her. Something she could not fathom. She dragged her eyes to his face and saw him looking at her expectantly. She coughed a little to clear her throat.

“I did not walk away angrily. I'm only trying to make a point, that's all,” she said breathlessly. The room felt hot, and she asked herself whether this man was causing the heat or if the air conditioner in the restaurant had suddenly stopped working.

“Ella!” he said in a husky voice. “I was sitting right behind you. I saw the whole thing. You should know Jane and Rose mean well for you. I've known them for a while now, and I must say they are good folks. They told me all about you. I've been dying to talk to you."

Ella turned to look at her friends. Jane averted her eyes while Rose focused her gaze on two couples who were chatting happily.

“Don’t be angry, Ella,” Kevin said, noticing the dark look that had settled on her face.

“I’m not angry," she gritted out. “I just don't like people digging behind my back. I love my privacy."

“Privacy it is,” he said, a triumphant look settling on his face. “You know what, Ella? I would love for us to talk more, but I've got to be somewhere right now. Can I get your digits?” he said, dipping his hands into his pockets to bring out his cell phone.

Ella hesitated. All this was happening too fast for her. This was the first time she could not think straight, especially with a man. Inwardly, she knew if she gave her cell phone number to him, something would definitely happen between them. No man in her young, wild life had ever made her feel this way. She wanted him so badly.

Without thinking, she began to tell him her cell phone number. When she was through, he looked up from his cell phone and gave her a smashing smile.

“I’ll give you a call, Ella." And he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Ella was shocked. She wanted to free herself from his arms, but her brain refused to function. Damn! His body felt so good. His arms around her were so warm and soft, and yet every inch of him was hard. The combination was devastating to her senses.

He pulled away from her.

“Expect my call, sweetie," Kevin said, and he gave Jane and Rose a brief, quick hug. Ella looked on, not wanting him to leave, wanting the little moment she had shared with him to last a little longer. He gave her a last sensual smile and swaggered out of the restaurant.

Ella watched him go and said aloud, “My God! Is he for real?"

Her friends had heard what she said, and in response, they began to giggle.

***

Two days later, Kevin and Ella were dining in one of the expensive restaurants in Downtown Miami. On the table was a bowl of crab soup with duck breast dipped in rice and soya sauce. There was a bottle of Martini in a silver bucket filled with ice cubes.

“Are you okay?” Kevin said, forking a piece of meat into his mouth.

“Yeah! I'm good,” Ella replied absentmindedly. She was not really concentrating on the food in front of her, and the reason was not far-fetched.

During the day, Kevin had called her, telling her he would like them to dine together in one of the exclusive restaurants in Miami Beach. He then gave her the restaurant's address, explaining to her that she should go there at exactly seven p.m. and wait for him there.

She had demanded from him the reason for this, and he had told her there was a board meeting held in his office that day and the meeting might take long. If she waited for him at the restaurant, he would join her as soon as he was through. She had done just that, but when she saw him tonight with a calm, cold smile on his face, she had the feeling he was lying to her.

She realized that he was a man who had the knowledge that a woman, no matter her pride or self-worth, would always wait for him. With his incredible charms and looks, the world belonged to him. This thought sickened her, but like every other woman who had fallen for his looks and charms, she knew she had no choice but to go with it.

“I think you've got something on your mind,” he continued, levelling his gaze with her, and obviously enjoying the emotions passing through her face. He had to control the urge not to laugh in her face. She was totally hooked! He could see the longing on her face. This dumb chick was like the rest of the women in his life. If his good looks did not hook them, they would surely be hooked by his money or personality. This woman sitting across from him was hooked by his good looks.

She had told him she was an air hostess working for one of the top air taxi agencies in Miami, and he knew money would never be an issue. Undoubtedly, she was only attracted to him because of his looks and charms. He had found out everything he needed to know about her from her friends. She was a loner, and she had no man in her life. The one thought in his mind was to hit it off with her and leave her at the drop of a hat.

“I’ve got nothing on my mind," she replied stiffly. She looked at his face and saw the jeering light in his eyes. The bastard, she thought angrily; he knows I'm hooked. At that moment, she was so frustrated she wanted to throw the crab soup in his face, but she fought down the urge.

“You sure?” Kevin continued, raising his eyebrow quizzically.

“I’m sure,” she replied to him. She looked at him sitting across her and felt a stir inside of her. He was so handsome, so masculine, and so selfish, and yet she wanted him. Christ! I'm such a fool, she thought, I'm such a fool to involve myself with this man.

Kevin studied her face for a long moment. He knew she was battling with the rage of emotions inside her. She wanted him desperately, but like every other woman; she could not bring herself to tell him that. Let me help her out, he thought. Let's see if she will take the bait.

“Ella!” he said to her.

She looked up from the food she was staring at and saw him watching her, a sensual knowing look on his face.

“What is it, Kevin?” she asked in a soft voice.

“What would you like to do?”

The question made her flush. It was as if he had hit her where she wanted him to hit her. She had been asking herself that question from the first moment she had set her eyes on him this night. What would you like to do? Her mind repeated the question. Even without him asking, she already knew the answer. She drew in a long, slow breath, pulled herself together and looks at his face.

“Let’s go home and make love, Kevin,” she said finally.

When they reached his penthouse, he turned to her and said, “Would you like a drink? I have Moet and Hennessey."

Ella shook her head. She did not want a drink. She did not want to sleep. She did not want anything except this man standing in front of her. Recognizing the longing feelings on her face, Kevin moved towards her, pulled her into his arms and kisser her hard. He tasted of warm whiskey and mints. Feelings like the amber of fire began to pass through Ella's body.

She felt weak and giddy as his warm tongue swept over hers, and she had to grasp his massive body for support. As they both kissed, their tongues twirling against each other, he grasped Ella's small frame and dipped his head deeply to take more of the sweetness from her mouth. She moaned into his mouth as her senses began to reel, making her feel very lightheaded and unstable.

Deftly, he gently unzipped the zipper of Ella's dress to reveal her black bra and panties. He dropped the dress on the ground and slid his hands under her bra, only to close around her breasts. Her breasts were high and soft, and Kevin kneaded his hands around the soft mounds. Ella began to moan passionately in his arms, her body writhing like that of a wounded snake. ‎

He removed his hands and bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth. His mouth was hot, and she began to feel herself drifting into an abyss of passion and desire. With his mouth on her breasts, he slides his hands down to the lower part of her body, between her thighs and found it to be extremely wet. He slides his hands under her panties and dipped one of his fingers into her soaked inner crevice. She gasped as his finger twirled inside of her, and she began to moan.

“Oh my God!” she moaned. “Don’t stop! Please don't stop,” she said, shivering violently in his arms. He continued this for a few moments, and seeing she could take it no longer, he lifted her up and carried her naked body to his bedroom. Kevin dropped her gently on the king-size bed and took his time taking off his clothing.

She watched as he took his clothes off, and she thought how magnificent he looked without his clothes on. He stood naked and proud in front of her roving eyes. His manhood was stiff, and she bit hard on the bottom of her lip and wet herself.

He lay beside her on the bed and continued to kiss her, and when she could no longer take it anymore, she grabbed his phallus and shoved it inside of her. He began to thrust inside of her, increasing his pace in a lucid motion. She grasped his buttocks, meeting his pace and allowing herself to be spurred on by his fast pace. It felt so good, she thought, so damn good.

Her face was filled with wild ecstasy, and her body began to jerk sensually. The feeling he was causing in her was unbearable, and her body began to shudder in a hot frenzy. She could feel herself coming, and she began to moan.

“Oh, God! Oh, my God!” She moaned loudly. “Kevin, don't stop, don't you dare stop.” Suddenly, her body began to jerk at sporadic pace, and all she could remember was his bellowing groan as he spurted his hot fluid inside of her.

After their lovemaking, he held her in his arms.

“How do you feel, sweetie?” he drawled in a lazy, husky voice.

Ella looked into his passionate dark eyes.

“I feel free, baby. You were massive! So, so massive."

Kevin nodded his head and dipped his head to take her lips in his mouth.

“So, what are we doing after this?” Ella asked after Kevin had lifted his head.

“After this, I take you to meet my family!” he lied easily. “I’m going to tell them I've found a woman who knows how to screw me. How do you like that?”

“A woman who knows how to screw you?” she asked, not comprehending him. “Is that really a good thing to tell one's family?”

“Relax, baby, relax,” he assured her, “for now, let's focus our minds on sweeter things.” And saying this, he thrust his hard penis into her and brought her body to another passionate crescendo.

For the past two hours, waiting patiently in a dark corner of the street, Razor, the man who murdered Jessica Hill, had fixed his eyes on a lighted window of Kevin's penthouse.

He leaned his broad shoulders against the brick wall with his hands thrust into his trouser pockets, a burning cigarette between his small yellow teeth, and a cold, deadly expression on his face. He studied the window for a long moment and consulted his cheap wristwatch. Just then, the light in the penthouse window suddenly went out and completed the darkness that engulfed the streets. He checked his watch again and nodded his head. They just can’t get enough of him, he thought angrily, that handsome oaf! He felt the rage of the thrill of the kill go through his body, sinking into his veins, bones, and blood, and he relished in it. After a while, he heaved heavily and relaxed. Then he began to hum soundlessly under his breath as he hunched his back and began to walk away into the hot, airless night.

***

The time was exactly 11:45 when a taxicab halted in front of Ella's apartment building.

“Here we are, miss,” the driver said, “Just like you said."

Ella nodded stiffly, opened the door, and stepped out of the cab. She walked to the driver side, dipped her hand into her Chanel bag and brought out a fat purse. She opened it. It was stuffed with cash. She peeled off a note and handed it to the driver. The driver said his thanks and sped away, leaving a trail of exhaust smoke behind him.

Feeling lonely and tired, Ella stood in front of her apartment building and felt a slight chill. The whole street was in darkness, except for the lights showing through the chinks in the curtains of the houses and the hard white light of the moon, which had managed to slither out behind a fluff of clouds.

She drew in a long, slow breath and grimaced. She moved towards the building, climbed up a flight of stairs, and stood in front of her apartment door. She dipped her hand inside her handbag and brought out her keys, and then she sank it into the lock. The door opened, and she went into the apartment and snapped the light on. Suddenly the room was flooded with a harsh bright light emanating from the hanging chandeliers. She looked around the room and nodded to her satisfaction. It was exactly the way she had left it—tidy and immaculate.

Tired, she tossed her handbag to one of the sofas and sashayed into the kitchen where a vast refrigerator stood. She flipped it open and brought out a pack of ice cubes. She went out of the kitchen and moved towards the cocktail cabinet in the living room. She took out a bottle of whisky and splashed two stiff shots into the glass. Then she added ice cubes, twiddled the glass in her hand and brought it to her lips. She shivered slightly as the drink went down her throat and exploded inside her stomach. Then she moved away from the cocktail cabinet and went into the bedroom. She peeled off her clothes and walked naked into the bathroom. She turned the bathtub tap on and stepped into the bathtub. She sighed as the cold jet water pierced her naked body. She cupped her breasts and allowed the water to soothe her aching nerves.

She rested her head on the bathtub edge, and her thoughts drifted to Kevin. After their explosive lovemaking the other night, he had taken her out, and they had spent quality time together at one of the beaches in South Beach, and they had gone back to his penthouse where he had made love to her again. Then this morning, he had driven her to her apartment and had come back in the early hours of the evening to take her out for a dinner date.

They had dined together in a quiet restaurant in Little Havana. While they were eating, she watched him when he was unaware and noticed that his eyes were on some of the restaurant's women. He had done it so covertly, and yet she had seen the hungry look in his eyes. That was when she knew she had fallen for a man whose existence depended on women. The thought had angered her, and that moment she had made up her mind never to see him again. He had seen her watching him the way you watch a dog that stands in one's path and snarl at you.

He knew she had caught him in the act. When the meal was over, he had told her he wouldn't be able to take her home because he had an important appointment to keep that night and he was running late. His tone had been bored, flat and cold, and his eyes had been hostile. Inwardly, she knew he was giving her the brush off. To him, she had suddenly become a nuisance. Now that he had gotten what he wanted from her, she knew it wouldn't take long before he got tired of her or even got rid of her. Well, I asked for it, she told herself; after all, she had seen the signs. She was just dumb enough not to read them.

A noise from outside the bathroom startled Ella out of her thoughts, and she stiffened. What was that? She wondered. She listened, and after a few minutes of hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she assured herself that her ears had been playing tricks on her. She rested her head on the bathtub and closed her eyes.

Razor watched the woman in the bathtub stretch out her white, longs legs, and he snarled, baring his teeth. The sight of her in the bathtub did not even arouse any feeling in him.

He had tailed her home after she had left Kevin. Then he had watched her enter the apartment, and having waited patiently for good twenty minutes, he had managed to climb up to the roof of the apartment building. Since her apartment was on the top of the last floor, it had been easy for him to slink in through the maintenance hole and enter her apartment. Now, as he watched her, lying leisurely in the bathtub, a menacing expression clouded his face.

He watched her for some time like a hyena watching his prey, and when he was satisfied that his presence was unknown to her, he looked around the bathroom until his eyes rested on an electric hairdryer. He smiled wickedly as a sudden idea occurred to him.

He moved towards the electric dryer, which was hung on a wall rack, and lifted it. Slowly and carefully, he plugged the electric dryer's cable into a socket outlet and moved purposely towards the body in the bathtub. Standing in front of her, he grinned viciously.

Ella must have heard movements because her eyes, which had been closed, suddenly flickered opened. Then she saw him. He looked exactly like a dangerous ape, and he was standing above her. She was so shocked she could only stare. She wanted to scream, but her throat was paralysed. The amber-coloured eyes of the strange man staring at her had stiffened her nerves.

“You should have stayed the fuck away from him!” he snarled, and he dropped the dryer into the bathtub. There was a bright explosion coupled with sparking sounds, and he began to laugh a hard barking laugh. Ella's body was already twitching and shuddering violently to the throes of death.

***

The time was past eight. Kevin Carter neatly parked his gleaming Aston Martin in a vacant parking bay outside police headquarters, cut the engine, and slid out into the early morning sunshine. He wore a tailored suit that looked impeccable on his perfect figure, and he had the air of affluence and supreme confidence that only the background of extreme wealth could give a man. He walked up the steps and into the Charge room where the desk sergeant, Ambrose Lee, was coping with a mass of drunk-in-charge reports. On sighting Kevin, Lee dropped the reports and jumped to his feet.

“Morning, Mr. Carter, something I can do for you?”

Kevin always received V.I.P. treatment from the police. The officers were all aware of his generosity and contribution to the Miami Police force and were always eager to please him.

“Detective Tomayo in?” he asked.

“Sure, Mr. Carter, you can go right up,” Lee said eagerly.

Kevin grunted, dipped his hand into his pocket, and brought out his wallet, which was stuffed with freshly minted bills. He took out a $20 bill and slid it across the Sergeant's desk. Lee snatched up the bill the way a lizard snatched a fly into his mouth. His eyes grew round, and he beamed at Kevin.

“Mighty kind of you, Mr. Carter. Much obliged”

He nodded and walked over the stairway that led to Detective Tomayo's office. He tapped on Tomayo's door then pushed it open and walked into the sparsely furnished room.

Detective Lieutenant Tomayo Daniels, a fifty-five-year-old, massively built man with wavy blonde hair and an aggressive jutting jaw was staring at some reports on his table. He stiffened as Kevin walked into the room. He got to his feet and held out his hand for a handshake.

“Hello, Mr. Carter, how nice to see," he said, smiling at Kevin's face. The two men shook hands, and he waved Kevin to the client's chair.

Kevin lowered himself into the chair.

“Detective, you sent for me. Your boys came to my house this morning telling me you wanted to discuss something with me down here at the station," he said, relaxing himself comfortably in the leather chair he was sitting on.

Tomayo nodded.

“I won't keep you waiting, Mr. Carter, but the issue needs your utmost attention."

Kevin narrowed his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Carter," Tomayo continued. “I wouldn't have sent for you if not for the fact that we have two murder cases sitting hot on our laps right now. We think you might be able to help us solve them."

“What cases?” Kevin said impatiently. “Detective, I don't have time for this crap. If you have anything against me, you better spit it out. All I know is that I'm a law-abiding citizen of this city, and I've never been guilty of any crime."

Tomayo was cautious now. He knew Kevin drew a lot of water in Miami, and he was a man who had to be handled with extreme care. He grinned sheepishly.

“Please take it easy. I think you would like to see this," he said, and he opened a drawer in his desk and brought out a medium-sized envelope. He tossed the envelope on the desk, and it landed with a loud splat. Then he pushed the envelope towards Kevin and folded his powerful arms across his massive chest. “Please have a look."

Kevin gave Tomayo a hard look and snatched up the envelope. He flicked it open and poured the contents onto the desk. Glossy photographs spilled onto the table. His eyes ran over the photographs, and he felt cold sweat break out on his body. The photographs contained grotesque images of dead women from the different crime scenes. His mouth felt as dry as he studied the pictures. He looked up to see Tomayo's eyes watching him intently.

“What is this?” he asked innocently. “I don't understand. What has this got to do with me?"

Tomayo leaned forward in his chair so that his face was very close to Kevin.

“Look," he said in a soft voice. “I think we got ourselves a killer, and you, Mr. Carter, will help us find this killer.”