Angelika reclined in first class and smiled at the man beside her. He beamed, blushing at the attention. Fiftyish, confident, and assured. Would his impression change if he knew her secrets?
In a few short hours she would be back in London, away from Hideaway Bay, the World Institute, and Nathan Barron. Away from the man who had stolen her trust and betrayed her.
She wiped her hands with the moist cloth as the flight attendant removed their trays. She never doubted Nathan would cop a plea deal to save his own skin. He would have given her up in a minute if it gave him an advantage. He left her no choice but to kill him. She hated messy endings.
By now housekeeping would have discovered Nathan hanging in the closet, his belt a makeshift noose. Another broken, ruined man. Another tragic suicide. There had been a rash of them at Hideaway Bay lately.
Was it the gloomy weather? Nathan Barron’s financial ruin? Guilt over betraying his son? The Ponzi scheme had surprised her, but it fit her plan perfectly. Whatever the cause, Nathan’s suicide would fuel speculation for months. Then he would be forgotten.
She had done Nathan a favor. Instead of facing criminal charges and hordes of irate investors, he was in his final resting place. She had put him out of his misery.
Murder was such a harsh word. Mercy killing was more like it.
Nathan. How could she have been so wrong about him?
Angelika had met him on the African plains. Selous, Tanzania, on a hunting trip. In that remote and wild place, he had serenaded her. She had fallen hard for him, drunk from his attentions, enveloped in his circle of power. She would do anything, even kill for him.
And she had.
Nathan understood the dance between hunter and hunted. Each was necessary to sustain life, to live it. Like the special relationship she had with her victims. Svensson had trusted her completely, even at the moment of death.
After flip-flopping over the cause of Svensson’s death, the coroner had ultimately ruled it a suicide. Angelika liked those best.
No loose ends.
Angelika glanced over at her seatmate. He faced the window, his back to her. Outside the indigo sky flew by, stuck somewhere between night and morning as they travelled east.
People never appreciated everyday life, or considered when or how it might end. Hunting taught her that.
But Nathan had fooled her. She thought their partnership was special; he as one of the most powerful men on the planet, and she, the professional assassin no one ever expected. She didn’t fit the stereotype, but that was part of her success. No one ever expected a female assassin, much less a young and beautiful one.
Until he stood her up in London. She had delayed Svensson’s hit as punishment. She hoped for a panicked call from Nathan, but none came. So she travelled with Svensson to Canada, to Nathan’s conference, hoping to up the ante before she killed Svensson at Hideaway Bay. There was something intimate about spending the last few hours of a man’s life with him. Especially when he had no idea that those last few hours had come to pass.
Besides ignoring her, Nathan also stiffed her on the final Svensson payment by not topping up her prepaid credit cards. The cards were convenient and untraceable, useful for carrying large amounts of cash across borders. Non-payment was bad enough, but Victoria was the final straw. Did Nathan really expect her to do all his dirty work while he played around with that Botox bitch? Angelika hadn’t counted on another woman.
Men didn’t leave Angelika. If they tried, they left the world on her terms, not their own.
Angelika glanced out the cabin window. She sipped her coffee as the plane chased the sunrise.
All in all, a perfect day. And another one on the horizon.