Beautiful Prey: The Storm Series

by Daniels, Phoenix

  After leaving the shower and drying off, she generously rubbed her favorite lotion all over her body and hurried in her room and dressed. Victoria pulled her hair into a high bun and put on dark eyeliner. She finished up with soft pink gloss. With one last inspection in the mirror, a dressed-to-kill Victoria was ready to go. She grabbed her weapon, tossed it in her purse, and headed out. Not having firepower in Chicago was not an option. As she entered the hall, of course Mrs. O’Malley was standing in her doorway.

  Victoria would bet money that the old lady had a chair at her door just so she could listen for Victoria’s comings and goings. She had absolutely nothing better to do. Victoria smiled and Grace O’Malley, who Victoria liked to refer to as “mean old bitch”, pursed her wrinkled bright red lips and looked at Victoria like she smelled. Victoria shrugged it off and hurried down the stairs. She was grateful that Illusions was just a ten-minute drive because she was running a little late due to her extra time in the shower. Victoria jumped into the Camaro that she loved so much and headed towards the club.

  While parking her car, Victoria noticed the line to get in. She exited her car and walked across the street. She walked to the front of the line and reached in her purse. With a quick flash of her badge and a smile, she entered the club.

  Victoria didn’t do lines so, as always, the bouncers noticed her pretty face and allowed her in through VIP. She navigated her way through the crowded club and spotted Steve in a corner looking like one of the bouncers. He was guarding a table for them. Victoria hurried over and gave him a hug.

  “Thanks for saving us seats,” she said while checking out his appearance.

  He had on a simple white t-shirt, which could not possibly hide his muscular frame and tattooed arms, and worn jeans with a chain running from a belt loop to his pocket. His complexion was light, due to the fact that his mother was German and his father was African American. With his clean-shaven head, he had that sexy “bad ass” thing going on. Victoria came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t meeting a man that night because Steve was gonna scare the hell out of any interested man. To Victoria, he was a big teddy bear. But to those that didn’t know him, his appearance was menacing.

  They sat at the table and Victoria looked around for Tracy. She had no doubt that, with Tracy’s body, she would not be waiting in anyone’s line either.

  Scanning the crowd for Tracy, Victoria asked Steve, “How long have you been here?”

  “I got here when you told me to be here. Your ass is always late,” he fussed.

  “If I’m always late, you should be used to it,” she teased.

  Victoria looked around and noticed the looks that Steve was getting from women and was shocked to see that he didn’t notice.

  Then she heard Steve grunt lustfully. “Damn!”

  Victoria turned back to Steve, wondering what happened.

  When his eyes widened, Victoria knew without turning around that Tracy had arrived. She looked at Steve and laughed. She turned to see Tracy approaching their table with a huge smile on her face. Since Victoria was working so many hours trying to catch a killer and Tracy was out of town on business, they hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

  Victoria jumped from her seat and greeted her friend with a hug.

  Tracy screeched. “Heeeey! I’ve missed you so much! You’ve been so busy!”

  “Girl, they have been working the shit out of me.”

  Tracy’s smile faded as she glared seductively behind Victoria. Victoria turned and looked into the lust-filled eyes of her partner, who was now out of his seat. She laughed and introduced the two. Finally a waitress came over, so they ordered drinks. Twenty minutes later, Victoria was surprised at her usually quiet partner. He was talking and laughing with a flirting Tracy.

  I should be a matchmaker, Victoria thought to herself.

  Victoria was working on her third shot of Jack Daniels. She was really enjoying the fun and easy conversation between the three of them. As they chatted and sipped, a very attractive man approached their table and asked Victoria to dance.

  She looked at the tall, chocolate, handsome man and thought to herself, hell yeah.

  She rose from her seat and accepted his hand. He led her to the dance floor and wrapped her in his arms. Floetry’s “Say Yes” was playing. Between the sexy lyrics and the scent of this sexy man, Victoria’s body was on fire. She assessed that he was feeling the same way since she could feel his arousal pressing against her. When the song ended, they walked over to sit at the bar and talk. During their conversation, Victoria learned that his name was Marcus. He was thirty-five and the CEO of a small marketing firm. He was divorced with two kids and talked nonstop about his ex-wife. After fifteen minutes of conversation, Victoria wanted to pull her gun out of her purse and put herself out of her misery. Instead, she thanked him for the drink and politely excused herself. She spotted Steve and Tracy grinding on the dance floor. She walked over and told them that she was tired and heading home.

  ”I’ll walk you to your car,” Steve said easing away from Tracy.

  Victoria narrowed her eyes and said, “Stop being so damn overprotective. I got a gun too, ya' know.”

  She kissed Tracy on the cheek and gave her a wink. She turned to Steve and ordered him to finish his dance. Victoria headed to the door, turning heads on the way out.

  “Now they’re looking,” she mumbled on her way out.

  On the quick drive home, she thought back to her dance with Marcus and how he obsessed about his ex-wife. He reminded her of her ex, Dante. Victoria would never allow another man to treat her like a non-factor. She would come first from now on, or she would remain single.

  She parked and entered her building. Before she could reach the top step, she heard Mrs. O’Malley’s door slam. She laughed and made her way into her apartment.

  CHAPTER 3

  VICTORIA

  “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

  Victoria was furious as she turned and walked away from Deon.

  She walked into her sergeant’s office without knocking. “Did I hear correctly that you’re putting us in uniform and assigning us to the Taste of Chicago?”

  The sergeant looked up at Victoria and shook his head. “Not me. This came from the commander.”

  Victoria was livid as she walked out of his office. She began ranting and raving out loud. “Why don’t he just pull out his fucking gun and shoot me his goddamn self?! Does he really expect me to work the most crowded and televised event in Chicago in a fucking uniform and then turn around and go back undercover the next day?!”

  She was getting nowhere with the drunk, so she traveled to the commander’s office. She was going to go over the sergeant’s head and speak directly to the commander. But once arriving to his office, she was denied. The fat bastard wouldn’t even speak to her. Victoria was pissed. She knew she had a dangerous job and she wasn’t afraid to do it, but she didn’t believe in taking unnecessary risks.

  Victoria didn’t need this on top of her already present frustrations. She hated Mondays. There was always a new dilemma when she returned to work. She entered the roll call room, looked around at her very angry team, and shook her head. She still had twenty minutes until roll call began, so she headed to the locker room to get ready. Today she chose a white micro-mini, black tank, and clear platforms. The black tank was cut so low that it barely covered her areolas. Posing as a prostitute had its dangers, but putting her in uniform at the biggest event in Chicago was reckless.

  We’re supposed to be looking for a killer, she thought to herself.

  “Tonight a whore, tomorrow a glorified crossing guard,” she mumbled out loud.

  Oh well, she thought and headed to roll call.

  Two hours later, Victoria was strolling from corner to corner. It was hot as hell. Deon was sweet enough to swing by her corner with a cold bottle of water, but she was exhausted. She had busted six Johns already, and her feet were killing her. She couldn’t imagine working the Taste of Chicago fo
r ten hours the next day when her feet were already in so much pain.

  Just then she spotted a black Bentley as it stopped right in front of her. The windows were tinted, and she couldn’t see inside. Victoria waited for the window to lower so she could approach the fancy car. She was really curious to see what the driver of this beautiful car looked like. The window never lowered, and the car slowly pulled away from the curb.

  Victoria caught a glimpse of the license plate. It read: “STORM”.

  She waved it off and got back to work. Victoria walked over to one of the many abandoned buildings on Madison Avenue. She sat on the stoop to relieve her aching feet. She shook her head at the condition of the dilapidated building. Abandoned buildings were a haven for criminals, so she wondered why the city hadn’t torn it down.

  Victoria crinkled her nose at the foul odor coming from the building. She turned toward the doorway and was hit by a wave of nausea. Victoria noticed that the boarding in the doorway wasn’t attached by nails. It was propped against the building. She stood and pulled back the wood in order to investigate the putrid odor.

  Victoria held her breath and peeked inside.

  She gasped at the sight of a foot. “What the fuck?!”

  Victoria took several steps backward and waved her distress signal to Steve. Within seconds, Steve was running toward her.

  He approached her, out of breath and full of concern. “What happened, Vic?!”

  “A body,” she responded, pointing toward the doorway.

  The other members of her team arrived ready to do battle. They looked around for the cause of Victoria’s distress. When they found nothing, they glared at Victoria with confused expressions. Victoria informed the team of her discovery as she and Steve walked towards the building. Steve lifted the board from the doorway and Victoria stepped in with Deon close behind. She gasped at the sight before her. She covered her nose and mouth as she stared down at the naked body of a young Black woman. The victim stared back at Victoria with eyes that were absent of life. The word “whore” was written across her chest. Victoria kneeled to get a closer look and discovered that it wasn’t written, but carved into her chest. The victim’s wrists were bound and raised above her head. The bruising around her neck indicated that she had been strangled.

  Victoria was careful not to touch anything. She didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene. Deon grabbed his radio and called for the Homicide Division and evidence technicians.

  Victoria could no longer stand the smell of rotting flesh so she stood and walked out of the building.

  Once outside, she took a deep breath and looked around for her sergeant. He was nowhere to be found. She shook her head in disgust.

  Victoria couldn’t get the image of the young woman lying dead in a filthy abandoned building out of her head. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She was displayed without an ounce of dignity and she was completely naked, except for the black high-heeled platforms.

  Victoria’s entire team stood outside of the building in silence. Sadness washed over Victoria and warm tears fell from her eyes. She didn’t even want to imagine the last moments of the young woman’s life. No woman deserved to die like that. Victoria wiped her face and realized that she was the bait for the type of monster that could brutally murder a young woman.

  Deon, who was apparently reading Victoria’s mind, walked over and placed his arm around her. “You okay?”

  Victoria nodded in response, though she was lying.

  Ten minutes later, a team of Homicide detectives accompanied by evidence technicians took over the scene. Victoria quickly gave them the rundown on how she stumbled upon the dead girl.

  Somehow the media was alerted and of course that meant the end of Victoria’s undercover mission. She couldn’t risk being on the news while she worked undercover missions. A John wasn’t going to stop for a prostitute in an area that was surrounded by the Chicago Police Department anyway.

  CHAPTER 4

  STORM

  Jack Storm stood with his arms crossed at the floor-to-ceiling window in his massive office. He stared down at the busy streets of downtown Chicago. He had a breathtaking view of the city. Storm Tower, headquarters for Storm Enterprises, stood at ninety-two stories. Jackson Storm was the most profitable real estate developer in the country, but at the moment he couldn’t concentrate on work. He was deep in thought. He couldn’t get that caramel-colored beauty that he had seen on the street the day before off of his mind.

  Why did she have to be a prostitute? He thought to himself as he relished in the memories of her beauty. She had long dark silky hair, beautiful skin, massive tits, and never-ending legs. He had been so very tempted to pick her up, but he wasn’t into prostitutes. Jack was well aware that he was attractive to women. He could have any woman he wanted, so he never once considered paying a hooker.

  Storm had rugged Caucasian features that were enhanced by a ruddy skin tone. He stood at six foot three. Since he worked out on a daily basis, he knew that women were impressed with his muscular physique. Because he was a billionaire, women practically threw themselves at his feet, but he couldn’t remember his body ever reacting the way that it had yesterday. He remembered sitting in his car watching as a bead of sweat rolled down the caramel beauty’s impressive cleavage. When it disappeared, he instantly hardened. He imagined chasing that little bead of sweat with his tongue. He pulled off before he could do anything stupid, but he wanted her.

  His thoughts were interrupted by his assistant’s voice. Mary was a highly competent woman in her early fifties. She was like a second mother to Jack.

  “Mr. Storm, your mom is on line one.”

  Grateful for the distraction, he walked over to his desk and instructed Mary to put his mom’s call through. He reached for his remote control so that he could check the Dow as he grabbed the receiver.

  “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  “I’m great, love. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about the dinner party on Sunday.”

  Jack could see right through his mother’s so-called innocent reminder. She was trying to set him up again. Matchmaking wasn’t her strong suit. One more bubble-headed debutant and he would completely lose his mind.

  “I didn’t forget, Mom,” he said as he looked up at the television.

  Transfixed on the vision on the screen, he abruptly ended his call, “Mom, I gotta call you back.”

  He hung up immediately, right in the middle of his mother’s rebuttal.

  “It’s her,” he said in a shocking whisper as he gazed in disbelief at the television.

  There she was; his caramel-colored beauty. She was wearing a CPD uniform. The news anchor was saying something about increasing the police presence at the Taste of Chicago.

  “She’s a cop,” he whispered in relief.

  Immediately, he buzzed Mary. “Get John on the phone.”

  “Yes, Mr. Storm,” Mary answered.

  As he ended the call, he couldn’t suppress his smile. “She’s not a whore.”

  He was determined. He had to have her at least once.

  CHAPTER 5

  VICTORIA

  “This shit is for the birds,” Victoria said looking over at Deon.

  There were news cameras everywhere.

  Deon shook his and said, “I know, Vic. Just lower your hat and keep your head down.”

  Victoria would be avoiding cameras all day. She looked around and noticed some folks that she knew from the Narcotics Division wearing plain clothes and blending in with the crowd.

  Ain’t that a bitch, she thought to herself.

  The “higher ups” in Narcotics watched out for their officers safety while the bosses in Vice gave less than a fuck about the officers that worked under them. Victoria decided to just get the day over with, hopefully without incident. She conceded to the fact that, for the next ten hours, she would be directing traffic, helping lost children, watching out for pickpockets, giving directions to tourists, and chasing away gang ban
gers.

  Over the years, “The Taste” had become increasingly violent. On the other hand, she was at the Taste of Chicago, so she decided to pig out. By ten thirty, Victoria was full and exhausted. She’d been on her feet for more than ten hours. Her gun belt was painfully digging into her hips. Some boss, that Victoria knew was sitting in an air-conditioned squad car, finally came over the radio and released the team from Vice.

  Victoria was frantically trying to get to her assigned vehicle when she ran directly into a big body. She looked up, prepared to apologize, and saw a tall man with the most intense grey eyes and a very sexy smile.

  “Sorry,” he seemed to sing with a deep alluring voice.

  “No, no. It was my fault,” she said in a quivering voice that didn’t disguise her attraction to him.

  “Let’s go. I’m tired,” Steve’s voice boomed behind her. She turned around to give him the evil eye for interrupting her conversation with the gorgeous pedestrian. “Okay. Give me a sec,” she said turning back to the handsome stranger.

  He was gone.

  Victoria cursed aloud, “Damn!”

  Oh well.

  She turned to Steve. “Let’s go, Cock Blocker,” she said to a snickering Steve.

  They got in the car and waited for Deon to make it over to them. The ride back was quiet. They were all tired. They finally arrived, and Victoria headed straight to the locker room to get out of her uniform. She hurried to her car and headed home. She arrived at her apartment, parked, and headed towards her building.

  All of a sudden, Victoria got an eerie feeling that she was being watched. She slowed her steps and looked around.

  Nothing.

  She was being paranoid. She shook off the eerie feeling and entered her building. Victoria couldn’t wait to get into her apartment so that she could shed her clothes and scrub the long day from her tired body. As she unlocked her door and entered her apartment, she noticed that Mrs. O’Malley didn’t make her usual appearance in her doorway.

  Maybe Mr. O’Malley was giving the mean old bitch some lovin’.