Sociopath (Ash Trilogy #1) ✔️

5

K I N G S T O N

I'm not exactly sure why everybody takes things so personally. 

Yea, I killed Prestons' father. But that wasn't an invitation for him to hurt Sienna. 

Sometimes people forget about my diagnosis. They forget that I'm a sociopath. I can lie, I can manipulate, I can use things to my advantage. I can also kill without remorse or fear for my own life. I've killed families, I've burned down buildings, I've ended bloodlines. It's the perfect mixture when living in a world of crime. So knowing all of those things and still choosing to hurt the woman I love must make you partially brain dead, if not fully. 

I have never been a hero, and I've never claimed to be. If my life were a movie, I would definitely be the villain. But villains are always more fun. I've never felt the need or want to be heroic in any way even though I'm in a position to be. I have more money than hundreds of people combined. I have any connection, any resource right at my fingertips. But yet, I chose to kill.

As easy as lying and manipulating are to me, I'm not a huge fan of it. I prefer to see reactions to my words and actions that are the truth. To watch the expression of somebody as I tell them I killed their loved one sometimes was comical to me. 

I recognized his red hair from across the room. He smiled while talking to a woman who was nothing special, which must've been why she was talking to him of all people. I walked over to him, and his eyes met mine as I approached.

He smirked and nodded his head at me, "Hello, Kingston. Congratulations on your marriage, I do hope to meet your wife soon."

"My wife is busy right now, knitting and such. Why don't you and I have a little talk?"

His eyes moved to the woman he was speaking to. He excused himself to the 5, "I'll be right back."

No, he won't. What a shame they won't be able to make the most hideous children ever seen.

He followed me out of the ballroom. We headed into a study room, dark bookshelves covering all 4 walls. I shut the door behind us as he spoke up, "Why did your wife-"

He started to choke from the blood filling his mouth. The knife that I had shoved into his abdomen made him collapse onto the ground quickly, his face turning so red that his freckles were barely noticeable. I looked down at him as he stared up at me in horror. But I'm not sure exactly what he was expecting, just because he didn't tell Sienna his name doesn't make it difficult to find out. 

He managed to choke out, "Eros should be running it."

My body tensed at the name he said. I froze as if I were standing in the middle of a winter storm. Nobody had dared to say that name to me in years. 

But I didn't allow his words to have any effect on my limited emotions, especially since I didn't want him to feel any satisfaction before his death. I slipped my hands into my pockets and shrugged, "Too bad you won't be here to see if it happens."

He bled out in seconds. That will never happen, though. Never.

I made my way back home after, wanting to be with Sienna far more than these people. I ignored all of the conversations people tried to have with me as I exited.

I'll have somebody else clean up the body and send flowers to his family members. It's something that I've done sometimes that confuses people - sending flowers and a condolence card to the family members of people I've killed. But I only send it to people who don't know that I did it. As I sign my name in cursive on those letters I always smile to myself.