Free Making Him Want It 2 -- Callie's Secret: Conning the Billionaire by Mercy Walker

1
     
    “We thought you’d never come home,” the older man said, holstering his gun and then picking up a mug of coffee.  “You forgot the device…that was sloppy.”
    I felt a red thread of annoyance flare through the cold grip of fear the sight of them caused me.  But then I concentrated on that thin flare of anger and felt something slide away, like the panel of a slideshow, and my cover was just suddenly gone.
    Goodbye Callie Thornton, hello…well, let me introduce myself before we go any further. 
    I’m Callie Monroe:  Professional assassin, industrial spy, grifter, sometimes bodyguard and highly trained mercenary.  And no , you can’t hire me…you couldn’t afford me.
    I wasn’t exaggerating about the two men standing before me, sipping coffee.  They are the two most dangerous men I’ve ever met.  They can kill someone faster than almost anyone I know…but not as fast as I can.  But they both have talents and skills that make them invaluable to most any operation.  That’s why we partnered up about five years ago.
    But you can only trust a couple mercenaries so far.  That’s why , though they have guns and the element of surprise on their side , I still ha d the drop on them.  I ’d set tear gas charges throughout the apartment, just waiting for me to touch a button on my keychain to activate them.  One is located right atop my coffee machine : a cute little teddy bear, with glasses.
    Plus I have a gun stashed behind hidden panels throughout the apartment as well.  They probably already searched the place—I would—but I know they wouldn’t know what to look for.  They’re highly trained mercs with Special Forces training.
    My training…well, let’s just say, my pay - grade is a little higher than that, and I started my training from before I could walk.
    But that’s a really long story, and the two men with their eyes glued on me weren’t supposed to be here.  And if there’s one thing I hate are deviations to my plans.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked, cracking my neck and then dropping my dry cleaning and my purse on the nearest piece of furniture —I kept my keys in hand .  I walked across the apartment, entered my kitchenette and poured myself a cup of coffee: I used my So You Want Me to Hurt You? Hello Kitty mug.  She was dressed in a leather bustier, sexy black panties, garters and hose, and was wielding a cat-o-nines whip.
    Hello Kitty was the shit…
    “As I said, you didn’t wear the device on your…date.” Kroner, the older man said.  “So we had no idea how things were going.”
    The younger one, Mitch, leered as he said, “From the look of her, I’d say she did better than was expected.” He clucked his tongue admonishingly.  “But I thought the plan was to whet his appetite, but to play the chaste virgin?”
    “Plans change,” I said, rummaging through my refrigerator: I was starving!
    “My son is right,” Kroner said.
    Oh, yeah…these two are a father/son act.  And they’re more than a little scary…and are all too similar.  I know from experience, in the biblical sense.
    No, not at the same time!  That would be…okay, it would have been interesting.  But that was before we joined forces.  Now we were purely business associates…but sometimes Mitch forgot.
    Kroner continued.  “We sent in two different freelancers in the last two months, Bella and Celine, and he ignored them both.”
    I knew Bella and Celine.  One a blonde, the other with hair the color of coal— both tall, supermodel beautiful, and both oozed sex like perfume.  That’s why I’d decided to go in as a bookish wallflower. 
    “Your point?”
    There came that smile again.  I’d prefer it if he’d at least try to make it reach his eyes.  But he was what he was, a sociopath…but at least he could cover it up when we were around a mark, or civilians he didn’t want to send screaming for help.  
    “Why did you change the plan?”
    Aha!  I found some left