Honey Trap

Chapter Three

VIOLETTA

My name is Isla, nice to meet you.

I'm Isla, I'm so excited for this opportunity.

Isla, at your service.

No, none of those were right.

I had my fake ID, fake social security card, and my fake bank account information all tucked away in my briefcase. God, I was seriously carrying a briefcase. A pink briefcase, with cute little flowers on it. I couldn't believe it—every time I walked past a storefront and had to see my reflection in the mirror.

Blonde hair that I hated, a gray pencil skirt that, surprise, surprise, fell down to my knees. A navy blue, button-up blouse with matching navy-blue heels. I was wearing fucking tights—fucking tights! Luckily, there would be no turtlenecks needed. My busted lip could be hidden by red lipstick, as much as I hated it with the new hair, and I cured the hickey with a cold spoon and some green concealer.

Nikolai had even wanted me to wear glasses, but I convinced him that was over kill. I was going for motivated, business minded, good girl. Not porn star secretary. It was bad enough I was going to be waiting hand and foot on some stuck-up rich kid who got everything handed to him because of his dad's shitty luck and high cholesterol. Word of advice kids, when your doctor tells you that you need to slow down on fatty foods... listen to him.

It was poor luck for Maddox Aster, but great luck for me.

The office building was in downtown Seattle, only a twenty-minute walk from mine and Nikolai's apartment building. The forecast was calling for rain, the air was brisk, but I was lucky that it hadn't started raining yet. First impressions were important when getting a new mark. Did they want overly confident, or did they want helpless?

Maddox Aster wanted timid and fearful.

I was going off only what Nikolai told me, which was that this kid was used to being the boss and having people fall at his feet. He didn't want defiance, he didn't want confidence, he wanted easy and agreeable. That was exactly what I would be giving him.

I could turn it on and off like a switch. You want agreeable? Sure, I'll jump off a damn bridge if you tell me to. Most of my previous marks wanted agreeable. I'd come to learn that men only pretended to like independent women, but they were hard to tame, and the male ego was far too fragile to handle a woman who wasn't afraid to stand her ground.

Over the years, I'd become something of a chameleon. Give me a few seconds with someone, I know exactly the sort of person they are and can shape myself to be just that. Take Nikolai for example—he wants someone who listens, but someone who is defiant enough it gives him a reason to be angry. Someone like him has so much rage buried in him; he needs someone to take it out on. Sometimes, that person has to be me.

It's twenty minutes before nine when I make it to the office building. Isla is never tardy, and she prides herself on always being ahead of schedule. 

The office building was the biggest one to be seen for blocks, extending well past the other buildings around it. To my surprise, it wasn't your typical corporate building. No glass siding, just intricate brick work and thirty floors high. It was as classy as you could get from a corporate money pit, and I'd hoped the inside was just as picturesque. If I was going to be forced to become a member of the working class (unpaid, mind you) I'd had better had some pretty feng shui to look at while I did it. 

It was time to get in character. 

No more practicing and reading flashcards, it was showtime. 

I made sure my hands were just the right amount of shaky as I pushed open the doors. Once inside, the cold air swept around me. There was a reception desk that I saw first in the center of the room. Behind it, a girl, not much older than me. She looked too put together to be just a receptionist, but this place screamed high-expectations.