1. Thomas Gavin aka Future Murder Victim

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Crystal's POV

There are some people who enter someone's life like a whirlwind. Like a hurricane. They cause disaster and mayhem everywhere they go and leave a wake of destruction in their path.

Maybe it doesn't start right away. Maybe they start off as someone you like. Someone you think you could grow to trust. Maybe they seduce you. They charm you. Befriend you.

They get inside your head and consume your thoughts. Blinding you to what they really are. To what they're capable of.

And then once they're through with you, once they've gotten what they've wanted, they toss you aside into the rubble. Leaving you to pick up the pieces and clean up the mess they made. The disaster they caused.

I had heard of many people like this. I never had the misfortune of meeting one. Until I met the man who called himself Thomas Gavin.

He was perfect in every way. He was absolutely stunning. Olive skin, jet black hair, and sapphire blue eyes. The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Strong jawline, body muscled to perfection and a smile that could make your heart stop.

He'd lean in when you were talking as if every word you said was vitally important. He'd shower you with compliments and dazzle you with gifts. He'd make you believe you were the only person in the world.

And then he'd destroy your world, humiliating and mocking you in the worst ways possible.

It seemed he'd saved his most venomous dose for me.

I'd never thought of myself as stupid or naïve. Gullible or vulnerable. Helpless.

And yet he'd made me feel all those things and so much more.

Angry. Humiliated. Frustrated. Embarrassed. Shocked. Angry. So very angry.

He'd pay for what he did, but at the moment I couldn't waste my time planning his inevitable demise. I couldn't waste my time trying to find him . . . yet. I had a more pressing matter on my mind.

I tossed everything out of my jewelry box and onto my bed, shifting frantically through it all for the familiar silver necklace with the large heart pendant covered in sapphires and diamonds.

Really, I wasn't one for the most flashy of jewelry. As a matter of fact, I hated that stupid necklace, and yet here I was frantically searching for it, praying it wasn't one of the items the bastard took.

When I came up empty, my hands clenched into fists at my sides and my anger spiked dangerously. I could feel my face flush and my heart start to pound.

No!

Bad enough the bastard had humiliated me beyond words, but clearly, that wasn't enough. Oh no, he just had to take that damn necklace too.

The door to my bedroom opened and Julie walked in with her laptop balanced in her hands. She paused and raised her eyebrows in question.

"Man, you look even more pissed off than you did this morning when you saw the newspaper," She said.

Julie Owens was my best friend. We'd been best friends for years and we met when we both went into modeling. We'd both risen to the top and had quickly become some of the most sought-after supermodels, obviously, that was no longer the case for me.

On the runway, she was always glamorous. Her make up always done to the extreme and the clothes she wore always complimenting her ebony skin tone. The outfits she modeled were always elegant dresses, sophisticated pantsuits, lacy lingerie, and sexy blouses. Her attitude was always kind and caring. Off the run was an entirely different story. Ripped up jeans, crop tops, ragged t-shirts, no makeup, and a Nascar cap covering her hair that she always kept cropped very close to her head. The only thing she ever kept from the runway were the heels that put her well over six feet tall since she was already five eleven without them. And her attitude off the runway was no-nonsense and blunt to the point it was almost painful.

If you were her friend, then her attitude was different. She was kind and compassionate and yet would still tell you everything she believed you were doing wrong.

"I'm going to kill him," I hissed between my teeth, my gaze set murderously at the jewelry spread out across the bed. I took several deep breaths before bringing my gaze back to her. "What did you need?" I asked her as I tried to reign in my anger.

"Just came to tell you that it's all over the internet," She replied as she turned her laptop around for me to see. "And when I say all over, I mean, all over. It's all anyone everywhere is talking about."

I stared at the computer screen, reading the titles of the articles splashed across the screen. I felt my anger soar as stared at the various articles.

Lawrence Carver cheated out of 1.2 billion dollars.

Crystal Carver Scandal.

Crystal Carver Modelling Career Over.

There were hundreds more with the same variations of the titles, but they all had the same story.

A story I wasn't keen on reliving. Not unless I could go back and change the ending. And I knew just who to kill to change the ending.

"You ok?" Julie asked me.

I tore my eyes from the computer screen and looked back at her. "I will be."

"You do realize you're done with modeling, right?"

"You do realize I never actually cared about it, right?" I asked.

Julie stared back at me. "You cared. Not in the way anyone would think. You cared because it covered your ass."

My anger threatened to boil over again. "Yes," I said. "It offered me a cover."

I walked across my room and threw open the balcony doors. I stepped out onto the balcony and stared out the ocean beyond the cliff my family's mansion was built on.

I breathed in the salty air and let out a long breath, trying to calm myself down. The location of my family's home was the only thing I liked about it. Everything else was too big, too bold, too flashy. Yes, the mansion was beautiful, and I had grown up here, but it wasn't to my taste. I preferred things to be simple.

Julie came out of my room and stood beside me. She stared out at the lawn below us. At my father talking to some men unfamiliar to me.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pretended to take pictures of the scenery. Instead, I focused on the faces of the men with my father.

Julie watched me carefully. "What exactly is going on Crystal?"

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"You've been acting different lately. You've been tense, jumpy almost."

I shrugged and leaned forward into the railing on the balcony. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes," She said firmly. "you do. Don't bullshit me, Crystal. I'm your best friend. You use to tell me everything, now you're keeping secrets? What's going on?"

I shook my head. "You don't want to know, and believe me, you don't want to be involved."

"Whatever it is, I can help you."

I pushed back from the railing. "You want to help me? Stop asking questions." I walked back into my room. "I need to go speak with my father."

I heard her sigh. "Conversation over then. Got it," She muttered.

I could hear her footsteps as she followed after me, but she kept her distance. I walked down the stairs and out into the yard, walking straight toward my father.

When I got within hearing distance I called out to him. He turned to look at me and then offered his apologies to the men in front of him, saying he'd be with them again shortly.

I knew my father was secretly annoyed with me for my interruption. I also knew he'd never tell me so. He'd pretend as if it was no big deal and brush it off since I was his oh so adoring daughter. Yes, he truly did love me with all his heart. I was his prodigy, his little princess, his world. Though sometimes I believed my father viewed me more as a pet, than a daughter.

Maybe this should have bothered me. Once upon a time it probably would have. Some people would believe that the fact that it didn't bother me meant that there was something wrong with me.

Well, they wouldn't be wrong.

"Daddy," I started as I walked toward him, purposely making my voice into a whine and plastering a look of utter distraught on my face.

If there was one thing I hated more than that stupid necklace I was so desperate to have back, it was acting the part of the rich, spoiled, bratty, bitch of a daughter.

Not that my father would ever know. I had never given anything away. I would never give anything away.

"What is it, darling?" My father asked me. His voice was soft and comforting. It wasn't as if he was playing a part. He really did care about me, I was his only child. Sure, I knew, he had wanted a son, but I had shown him throughout the years that I could be just as good, if not better, than any son.

I had earned my father's complete and utter trust, something not even my own mother had.

He was the man who raised me. Who protected me. And as much as I loved him, I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't.

I put a pout on my face and even let a few tears come to my eyes as I stared at him. "That awful man took my necklace. The one you gave me for my birthday five years ago."

My father's face darkened at the mention of "that awful man" and he reached his hands out to me, placing them on my shoulders and squeezing affectionately. I couldn't help but lean in. I wanted to be revolted. I wanted to hate his affection. I should.

But how could I possibly hate the man who had raised me, who had treated me as if I was his world, who taught me almost everything I knew?

My father gently brushed the hair back from my face. "I will buy you another necklace," He said.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and groan. The necklace wasn't the real problem. "I don't want another necklace," I told him, making sure to make my voice shake as if I was on the verge of tears. "I want that necklace," I paused as I watched my father's face knowing that my next words would hit their mark with him. "I want him to pay for what he did."

There was a spark that lit in my father's eyes. He wanted exactly that, and he had the means to accomplish it. If he so wished, Thomas Gavin-or whatever the hell his name really is-would cease to exist.

I was adding fuel to the fire by telling my father that that was what I wanted. He was already going after Thomas Gavin, I knew, but now I was giving him another reason to do it. Because what his princess asked for, his princess got.

Ultimately, I was sure this would put me in more trouble in the long run. I needed this man found as soon as possible, and my father had the means to do it. The only problem would be that I would have to get to him first because if my father did, he'd be dead.

My father brushed a kiss on my forehead. "I promise, my gem, I will get your necklace back and I will make sure that awful man pays for everything he's taken from us."

I kept my smile to myself and simply nodded to my father, turning and walking back into the house. Julie was waiting for me.

"It's times like this when I'm reminded how much I hate that bitchy side of you," She said. "I mean honestly, you're a pathetic barbie doll."

I looked over my shoulder at her as I continued on through the house. "That's what's expected from me."

"Yeah, I know," She replied. "I just thank God you're not actually like that. If you were we'd never be friends."

"You originally believed I was."

"Yeah well, you opened my eyes and showed me what an evil two-faced bitch you really were . . . and I found I liked that about you."

"Glad those acting classes didn't go to waste."

"You didn't need them," She said as she leaned against the doorframe leading into my room. "You were already terrifyingly manipulative without them. What are you going to do now?"

I sat on my bed and opened up my laptop. "I'm going to find out who that bastard is."

"How?" She asked.

"My father's not the only one with contacts," I muttered as I pulled my phone from my pocket, my gaze still on the computer screen. "I have a couple people who would be willing to help me."

She nods. "You need my help?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied. "I can handle this on my own."

"Let me rephrase that," Julie said as she walked over and closed my laptop so I was forced to look at her. "I'm not letting you figure this out on your own. Now tell me what to do and so help me, if you tell me to get lost I'm going to murder you."

I smiled at her. "Get your phone out, I need you to make a couple calls for me."

"And what are you going to do?"

I dialed a number on my phone I had memorized by heart. "I'm going to make a couple calls of my own."

"Marrek," The voice on the other end answered.

"It's Crystal," I told him. "I need your help with something."

"Name it."

"I need to find a man who goes by the name of Thomas Gavin. I have a couple of pictures of him but it's likely he changes his appearance often. I'll send them to you."

"It shouldn't be a problem. Anything else I need to know? You've been in the news a lot lately."

My anger returned full force. "My father's looking for him as well. I prefer to get to him first."

"You want me to take out whoever he's hired to find this guy?"

"I was just telling you so that you can avoid running into him while you're asking questions."

There was a long pause as he said nothing else. Finally, he spoke again. "How fast do you need this guy found?"

My thoughts flew over everything he'd done. Everything he'd taken from me. He'd made me feel so special and then completely humiliated me.

"As fast as possible," I responded.

"I'll call you when I find something. Don't call me. You're not going to want to hear whatever I'm doing."

The call ended.

I couldn't help but smile as I leaned back against the balcony railing. Oh yes, Marrek would get the answers I needed. Even though he said he'd be asking questions, I knew that wasn't the case. Marrek didn't ask questions. He wasn't very good at talking to people. He was much better at just breaking bones and kicking down doors.

All I had to do was wait, and he'd call me with the information I needed.

Thomas Gavin, you're going down.

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