Mrs. Ten was a bitch. I hadn’t picked up on that at the spa.

Fine. I’d see her bitch and raise her a raging one. Crossing my arms, I held out my hand as she approached. “I am.”

She dropped the file into my hand and gave me a condescending smile. “There it is. Everything you need to know to nail my husband.” Her smile twisted higher as she studied the folder. “If you need any tips on how to fake orgasm when you’re with him, give me a ring. I’m the expert.”

That reminded me of something. “I’ll mail you a phone just as soon—”

She lifted her hand. “No need. G’s already equipped me, gone over the rules. And gone over the rules again. My lips are sealed, and I will be waiting on the edge of my seat for you to text me that final V.”

I didn’t know how or when G had worked everything out, but I didn’t mind. It saved me having to spend another ten minutes with the bitch queen.

“Now, if we’re done here, I’ve got a flight to catch.”

Nice to be working with you, too, I mouthed once she’d passed me.

“Question,” I said, spinning on my heels. “Why do you want out?” The answer to my question was somewhere in the file in my hands, but I had to know right now.

Her face shaded for a split second.

“He’s a cheating asshole,” I said, more of a statement than a guess. I knew that look. Hell, I’d lived that looked for a couple of months before G found me.

Mrs. Ten shook her head. “He’s made his billions. I’ve done my time. I want out. And I want my share.” One corner of her mouth twitched up.

I took an automatic step back. That wasn’t how it worked. I’d never heard of an Errand without a good-for-nothing cheater or beater as the Target. It was an unsaid maxim we Eves held to. It made our jobs easier to know we were nailing a bastard who deserved it. From the sound of it, Mr. Ten had committed no greater offense than making a shitload of money and marrying the wrong woman.

“You’ve got a husband to screw, and I’ve got a flight to catch,” she said, shoving through the door. “Good luck.”

There was that word again: luck. I’d disliked hearing it once in reference to an Errand. I positively abhorred hearing it twice.

Backing up into the sink behind me, I contemplated my moral dilemma. I’d just wound up with the largest Errand in the history of the Eves. The payout would set me free. It was the Errand we dreamed of, the one we spent our careers chasing. And I had it in my hands.

In the other corner . . . the Client had commissioned us for no reason other than she was tired of the mister in her life. She didn’t want a divorce because he was screwing half of Texas or because he liked to beat her into next week. She was leaving him because she could and, with the Eves’ help, she could with billions to her name. I had something of a skewed sense of right and wrong, and even I knew that was fucked up.

What would I do? Could I take this one? Would my conscience allow it?

Those were questions I couldn’t answer. One half of me answered them one way, and the other half answered them the other way. I was at a stand-still.

Before I knew what I was doing, I opened the file and slid the mass of paperwork out. Maybe once I’d read through some of the notes, seen some of the answers, I could make up my mind. I knew if I declined the Errand, G would want to rip my heart from my chest with her own hands. Hell, I’d want to do the same to myself if I turned it down.

I quickly scanned the first few pages. My hands actually shook as I read. Nothing stood out. Nothing gave away that Mr. Ten was a Grade A loser who needed to be brought to his financial knees.

Nothing.

From the list of charities he was involved in, the man seemed as if he would qualify for sainthood when he passed on.

And then I flipped to the next page. My hands went from trembling to shaking. My knees gave out, and had it not been for the sink behind me, I would have crashed to the ground.

I stared at the photo of Mr. Ten. I stared at a familiar face. I stared at the face of the man I’d unwillingly imagined when I’d been with Mr. Silva.

I stared at the face of the man I’d loved. The same man who’d brought me to my own knees and taken every scrap of confidence I’d possessed five years ago.

By the time I’d caught my breath and calmed the shaking, my mind was made up. I was taking the Errand. I wouldn’t only take it, I would ruin him the way he’d ruined me.

I would no longer have to exact my revenge on the lovers of other women—I could focus it on the one who deserved it all.

I wandered out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the file tucked under my arm, and I headed for the ticket counter. Goodbye, Miami. Hello, Seattle.

I was resolved. I was ready. I would make him feel every last drop of devastation I had.

Because I was in the business of Great Exploitations. And business was good.

Thank you for reading

GREAT EXPLOITATIONS

(MISCHIEF IN MIAMI)

By, USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Nicole Williams.

Nicole loves to hear from her readers. You can connect with her on:

Facebook: Nicole Williams (Official Author Page)

Twitter: nwilliamsbooks

Blog: nicoleawilliams.blogspot.com

Look for the next installment in the GREAT EXPLOITATIONS saga,

SCANDAL IN SEATTLE,

to be coming soon!

Other Works by Nicole:

CRASH, CLASH, and CRUSH (HarperCollins)

UP IN FLAMES (Simon & Schuster UK)

THE EDEN TRILOGY

THE PATRICK CHRONICLES

Table of Contents

The Beginning

The Meet

The Greet

The Heat

The Sheets

The Sweet