Something had changed now though. He had gotten thin. His suit fit him perfectly, and it added some bulk to his frame without making it look like he was swimming in fabric, but Damian had spent years of his life learning how to see small tricks that changed someone’s appearance. Someone had gone to work on his face with makeup as well. It was subtle, beautifully done—as well done as his daughter’s really. He looked healthy and strong. But he had lost weight. His cheekbones were sharper, just a bit, and he leaned on the back of a chair as he stood. He made it look casual, but Damian was sure he was using the chair for support.

  What the hell is happening here?

  He didn’t think that this was the man Piper had pointed out. His gut said it wasn’t. His brain was undecided. Either way, he needed to get back to Piper.

  “Thank you so much for joining us,” Chamberlain said as Damian threaded his way back through the crowd. “I’m so glad that you could all be here with us as my lovely daughter, Fiona, marries the love of her life, Alex Dodson. I love you, baby.”

  There was one of those utterly touching and totally staged moments where Chamberlain blew a kiss to his daughter, and she covered her cheeks to hide her smile and brush away the tears in her eyes. Unless they were both really that sappy. That was possible.

  Piper had stayed exactly where he’d told her to; point in her favor, then. And she’d done well talking to Fiona. Although something had gone strange there; he’d felt the reaction in the air when Fiona somehow caught Piper off guard. He would have to find out more about that later; now it was time to go back to blending.

  Chamberlain kept talking about his daughter, her fiancé, and all the wonderful blessings life had to offer. Damian found the happy husband persona he’d been wearing before and let that slide seamlessly back into place. He was here to do a job. Tearing off like that was foolish; if someone had suspected him, he was surely made now. He’d acted like a damn idiot. His fucking dick was making him overreact. If just being around Piper kept making him react like this, he was going to have to tie her up in their cabin and leave her there.

  That thought did not help his dick soften. At all. Gorgeous tanned skin like hers, crisscrossed with rope?

  Damn, that would look absolutely fine.

  When he got back to the table, kissing her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world was easy. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat, and he thought about taking her there and then, making her scream in front of all these hoity-toity people and—what the ever-loving shit was wrong with him?

  He broke off the kiss and turned his eyes back to focus on the couple in front of him and the target that he was supposed to eliminate in the next few days. Like the professional that he was.

  “I hope you’ll all join us in the small ballroom for the wedding,” Chamberlain was saying, “while the staff transforms this area into my daughter’s daydream. Please.” He gestured towards two large doors, which were promptly opened by staff.

  People began to move through into a room that was set up to look like a church. Hell, maybe it is. Captains were authorized to marry people still, weren’t they? Didn’t matter—Damian could see the priest from where he was.

  The room was set up like a wedding set from a movie. His brain was scrambling to keep up, and all he could do to put himself into the right mindset was to start calculating all the places one would have a clean shot at a target in the front row and to the side, the traditional place that the father of the bride would sit. Even Damian wouldn’t shoot a man who was about to kiss his daughter and give her away. Splattering a wedding dress with blood just seemed… wrong. Even if it had made Quentin Tarantino a crap ton of money.

  Everyone was directed to seats on the right side of the room, and he and Piper sat down together. The folding chairs were actually comfortable, which was a nice change. You couldn’t be as tall as he was without also having a pretty big frame, and he had sat in plenty of chairs that made it seem like he’d gone to the island of Lilliput. This wasn’t a chair he was going to relax and spread out in, but it was certainly more comfortable than many he’d used over the years.

  The ceremony was brief. He glanced over at Piper a couple of times, but she didn’t look like she was on the verge of tears. Her face was pointed towards the couple at the front of the room, but her eyes were unfocused. He knew without question what she was wondering. He leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her neck, just below her ear.

  “If you try to get away from me, or you try to tell someone why you think I’m here,” he murmured, barely making a noise, “I will find everyone you love. I will hunt them down and exterminate them. Don’t think of crossing me. Are we clear?”

  She flinched a little, and the glance she turned towards him was one of muted terror. But she turned back to the couple, and this time, she focused all of her attention where it needed to be.

  Good girl.

  That thought surprised him, just a little. But he also had to own that she was holding up well. The average girl who had been basically kidnapped, pushed into sex that she didn’t want just to ease someone else’s nerves, and then told to pretend to be someone she wasn’t—most girls couldn’t handle that. Not bad, especially for a girl who, to the best of his knowledge, was just a regular girl.

  He watched the wedding ceremony, but it didn’t really make much of an impact. Too many of his clients were husbands and wives who’d had enough and wanted a quick out that would satisfy their prenup. He’d gotten very good at a million different things—faking someone else’s cheating, cons that ended in both parties satisfied, and, in extreme cases, poisons that were virtually impossible to detect. It was hard to look at something like this and think romance. Maybe poor people got married without planning on scamming each other out of everything. Once you started working with rich people, though, all bets were off.

  He looked for the man that Piper might have seen and surveyed the crowd. There were fewer people than he had expected on the boat, and he was more relieved than ever that he’d made sure his “plus one” had shown up as expected. Everyone here was coupled; he would have stood out like a sore thumb as a single man.

  Fiona had one bridesmaid, who looked to be much older than she was. Alex had a best man, about his age. There was something awkward about the best man; he shifted his feet and studied the guests in a way that felt almost nervous. Well, maybe he didn’t like being in front of crowds. He certainly would not be the first person who thought it would be fine, then broke into a sweat up there, even if they weren’t really the person being watched.

  Still, it pinged on Damian’s radar. It might be as minor as “the best man was secretly in love with the bride”, but it might be something more.

  There were the “I do” vows, and then the kiss, and cheers, and the bride and groom went back down the aisle while everyone applauded and reached out to touch them as if the love would rub off on them. As if love were something tangible, or even real.

  Before the guests could start to leave, Chamberlain was up at the front of the room again, his arms spread, talking about how beautiful his daughter was. It was painfully obvious that he was covering for the newly married couple, giving them a quick minute to catch their breath—and maybe have the quickest of quickies—before the transformed ballroom turned into a reception where they would be “performing happiness” for hours.

  Damian only half listened to what Chamberlain was saying; it was clear the man loved his daughter more than anything, and that he was sentimental about everything that was happening, but that was all that Damian was catching. It was good information that Fiona would be useful leverage if needed, but there wasn’t more than that to hear.

  He glanced over at Piper, who finally had tears shining in her eyes. What about this father’s speech was more moving than the wedding itself? Of course, she was recently broken up; it was very possible that she was just as bitter about the concept of loving “til death do you part” as he was. Why set yourself up for unrealistic goals? It just seemed stupid.

  He reached down and squeezed her hand, giving her a small, warm smile. That was what the loving husband would do, right? But she leaned into him, placed her head on his shoulder and her free hand on his arm. Something in him was suddenly confused. Was she pretending? Or was there something else going on?

  And why the hell did he want to wrap his arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head?

  He took a deep breath and hardened the part of himself that was trying so hard to go soft for no goddamn reason.

  When they eventually moved back into the transformed ballroom, Damian was impressed. The room had been stately and formal before; now it looked like the site of a high school prom but dialed up with class—draped fabric, chairs with bows, plates with half a dozen pieces of silverware, and, instead of a head table, a small sweetheart table that stood under an archway decorated with roses. Whoever was the wedding planner was doing an amazing job keeping up with the rapid-fire demands of this event. Event planners and con men were the only people he had ever seen transform spaces this rapidly. He could absolutely believe that they’d just entered a completely different space—if he didn’t have the knack of looking around and seeing the shape of a room beyond its decorations.

  He held Piper’s hand as they looked for their assigned seats.

  12

  Piper had always found weddings to be, in general, bullshit. Her parents had divorced when she was little, and while she had hoped that would stop the screaming and fighting it, well, it simply hadn’t. She had never figured that relationships really needed rubber stamps from the government to be official, though she’d figured that, eventually, she would sign the papers for the tax benefits—if she found the right person. And she was pretty sure she wanted kids eventually; that part was definitely easier if you had the pieces of legal paper all organized.

  But the whole doe-eyed in a white dress thing? That part hadn’t ever done much for her.

  Hearing Fiona’s dad up there, however, talking about how beautiful his daughter was and how proud of her he was? That part had turned her inside out. It wasn’t that her own father hadn’t been there for her, and damn did she ever hate the term “daddy issues”, but she’d never been close to her father.

  Reaching out to Damian for reassurance had been strange, but it had also been right. As gross and wrong as it felt, he was the only person she had right now. And, as they said, “Any port in a storm.”

  There was something dark in him, and the more she looked at him, the darker it seemed to get. She had started out thinking he was here for some kind of con that would compromise Chamberlain. She didn’t know why a person would want to do that; as far as she knew, Chamberlain was a pillar of the community, solid businessman, all of that—but people were people, and everyone wanted something. Someone would gain something, most likely if he were—what? Dethroned? Tarnished? Lost his fortune?

  Died?

  That last one scared her somehow. She didn’t know the man and wasn’t personally involved if he died, but the idea that the man next to her might be the one with a plan to kill him... that terrified her.

  The shock and fear of everything that had happened since stepping outside of Marissa’s apartment were finally catching up to Piper. She wished she had her purse, and the small bottle of anti-anxiety pills her doctor had prescribed for her occasional panic.

  Everything was hazy, and she clung to Damian’s hand as he took them to a table. She ate food when it was in front of her and was distantly aware that it was good. She clapped when everyone else clapped and made sure she was always looking in the direction of whoever was talking. But she wasn’t taking in very much at all. She was overwhelmed, and she desperately needed to go someplace quiet for a little while until the storm of emotions inside of her calmed down.

  There was dancing. Damian asked her if she wanted to dance, and she shook her head. He kissed her softly, looking for all the world like a caring husband. She wasn’t wearing a ring. What was her story if someone noticed the ring? He hadn’t planned for that, and she should mention it later. See what he thought.

  She blinked, and then Fiona was standing in front of her, holding out her hands. Piper stood, taking the other woman’s hands and smiling into her brilliantly happy face. And then she saw something so sharp and shocking that she was surprised she hadn’t seen it before.

  Fiona was heartbroken. She was on the verge of tears and had been for a while now. Her eyes were reddened, and she looked worn thin. Maybe she’d just had a long day, but there was something more. Piper doubted she would have been able to see it if she wasn’t stretched so thin herself; she certainly hadn’t noticed it earlier.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Fiona was saying. “I can’t believe we lost touch after school.”

  Piper smiled and nodded, but she couldn’t figure it out. She knew damn well that she had never met Fiona before today; why in the world was the girl pretending that she and Piper had been friends?

  “I’d like to catch up tomorrow, if that’s alright?”

  “Of-of course,” Piper said. “Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”

  “Sure.” Fiona’s voice was way too chipper. Her eyes were bright, and the way she was forcing her emotions was so painfully clear. “There’s a small cafe on the forward deck. Do you think you could meet me there in the morning? Maybe around nine?”

  That was absurdly early for a new bride who was going to spend all night with her new husband, wasn’t it? It seemed truly ridiculous.

  “My pleasure,” Piper said.

  “I have to go.” Fiona shot a look over her shoulder at her waiting husband and gave a smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

  She didn’t wait for Piper’s goodbye before she walked away.

  Piper watched her go and was more confused than ever. She sat down in her chair and glanced at Damian, who had leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. He whispered in her ear; this was becoming a pattern:

  “I want to get back to our room as soon as possible,” he said, his voice low. “I think there’s an assassin on this boat.”

  Another pause.

  “I mean, besides me.”

  Piper tried to keep her shock under control as they walked quickly back to their cabin. Every so often, Damian stopped and pushed her against something, groping her and kissing her hard, as if they were just desperate to get somewhere with a flat surface and fuck.

  At one point, he caught her bare thigh, lifting it up around his waist, and she thought he really might fuck her right there. She knew she couldn’t have stopped him. She wasn’t sure that she would have tried. Her body wanted him, but her head just wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the words he said.

  An assassin other than him.

  So much for the long con, the guy trying to make a good stock deal, or some other shady but not illegal business. Damian was here for a very specific, and very bloody purpose.

  Two things were turning her stomach: first, she wasn’t surprised at all. Something about his cold eyes and the way he watched her so closely had left her sure that something was going on since they had first met.

  But the second frightened her more: she didn’t seem to care. She wanted him just as much as she had before. She knew that if he tried to fuck her again, she would try to fight him off. She needed to believe that she wasn’t the sort of girl who could crave a murderer.

  But here she was, and there wasn’t really any way around what was happening. She was soaking wet, thinking of how he had used her as “stress relief” before, and even though she’d hated it, she wanted more.

  So when he pushed her up against the wall and lifted her leg, she slid her hand between them, cupping his cock and stroking him through his pants. He hissed into her mouth and moved harder against her.

  “Don’t worry, Piper,” he said. “We’ll get to that. I need it just as much as you do. Don’t worry.”

  He rammed three fingers into her without warning, thrust half a dozen times while she tried not to scream, and then pulled them free, leaving her aching and empty and wanting him so much more.

  He let her go and walked down the hallway, leaving her to follow. She did. There was one moment where she felt disgraced, like a puppy left behind to trail behind its master, but then maybe ‘master’ was a good word for him. She didn’t hesitate for a second before she trotted along.

  In the bedroom, that thin veneer of social acceptability that he had been wearing dropped like a stone. His face went flat, his eyes cold, and his movements became brisk and efficient. He didn’t seem to even realize Piper was still in the room. She watched him standing at the cabin door, then went to sit down. She was still wet and aching, and she pressed her thighs together to get a little pressure.

  He went immediately to the suitcases that had been brought on board with them. He opened them and checked over certain areas of the clothing. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but when he found—or didn’t find—it, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I need to unpack things and check my gear,” he said, his voice still flat. “And you are going to keep me entertained while I do it.”

  “I—What?”

  “You heard me. I already took your panties. Hook your feet on that coffee table, so you’re spread nice and wide. And play with yourself. You can come, but you’ll have to keep fucking yourself afterward, no matter how much it hurts. Do you understand? If you try and stop, believe me, I’ll make it hurt a thousand times worse.”