Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance(2)

But I kept my misgivings to myself. I was there to confirm my suspicions, not lecture on how corrupt politicians and the top one percent were, especially when I was looking one of said corrupt politicians right in the face.

“Mayor Bradley is such a good man,” Bianca purred, squeezing my arm. “He cares about the poor and disadvantaged. I’m so glad we have him as our mayor.”

“That’s right, Bianca,” Bradley agreed, tilting his wineglass toward her in toast and cracking a boyish grin. “And that caring for the people I represent is how I got elected.”

I nearly hurled. But it only got worse from there as the two began talking about Bianca’s childhood.

Mayor Bradley, it seemed, was close to Bianca, fondly reminiscing about how he’d practically watched her grow up before his eyes, and how much of an inspiration she had been in him wanting to have a daughter.

I didn’t miss the way he looked at her, who was at least fifteen years his junior — like he wanted to take her into one of the back rooms and f*ck her brains out.

Obviously Mayor Bradley, who was supposedly happily married, had a roaming eye for attractive young women — even women who should have been off limits.

My opportunity to put the Mayor on the spot came when Bianca told him that I had a master’s degree in Information Technology, and that a lot of the big players in Silicon Valley were in bidding wars for my formidable talents.

“Steven here is absolutely amazing,” Bianca boasted, flashing a pretty smile up at me. Fake names did have their uses. “There’s not a major tech company here in the valley that doesn’t want him on their roster.”

It was amazing the kind of bullshit you could get away with if you had enough confidence and someone na?ve enough to listen.

“Oh really?” Bradley asked me, flashing me a grin that told me that he loved successful people, because successful meant money. “What brings such a prosperous young fellow like you to this type of event?” He was obviously referring to the age group of most of the attendees, who were mostly middle-aged with money.

Here was my chance.

“I’m here on the behalf of a friend of mine to raise awareness for his sister he lost a while back,” I replied.

Bradley’s boyish grin dimmed somewhat. “That’s awful. What happened?”

I looked the mayor straight in the eye. “She was murdered.”

His fading grin was replaced by a frown. “Oh gosh. I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked at Bianca like he was about to change the subject, but then it seemed he was overwhelmed by a sudden burning curiosity. “What was her name, perchance?” His eyes bore into me with an intense scrutiny that would’ve been unsettling had I not been prepared.

I didn’t miss a beat. “Ashley Collins.”

Bradley, for the most part, kept his composure, but I didn’t miss the momentary flash of panic in his eyes. It was then that I knew, despite all of his charisma and efficaciousness, I was looking into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer.

“Hey, I’m extremely sorry for cutting the conversation short,” Bradley mumbled suddenly, tearing his eyes away from me, “but I must go find my wife. We’re supposed to be giving a joint speech here soon. It was nice meeting you, Steven.” Bradley nodded quickly at Bianca in parting, “Bianca,” and walked away.

I watched as he swiftly disappeared into the crowd, my suspicions confirmed.

It’s him.

All the information Anonymous had painstakingly compiled on the corrupt official seemed to be true.

There was one drawback to being a public figure — everyone knew where you lived. As an online task force against corruption and injustice everywhere, the local chapter of Anonymous kept watchful tabs on all of the power players in the area.

Unbeknownst to Bradley, Anonymous had kept vigil on all of his business dealings as soon as he was elected, as the office of the mayor was a frequently abused position of power.

It wasn’t long before the hacker group, along with my help, amassed a plethora of information about the handsome young politician.

Bradley, it seemed, always sold himself out to the highest bidder, influencing the city council to vote on propositions that were beneficial to whoever donated the most money to his office.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he took bribes for about almost any issue . . . as long as the dollar amount was right. He was rotten to the core.

Then there were his hobbies . . . golf, art-collecting, buying horses and . . . last but certainly not least, prostitutes. And not just any prostitutes. Bradley liked the young, desperate type — girls that would debase themselves to perfect strangers for a John like Mr. James.

While it’s certainly not my thing, there was nothing wrong with a man who used prostitutes for sex, but Bradley liked to torture, beat and rape them to get his rocks off — or so that’s what the rumors were at Anonymous.

The disgusting behavior was at odds with the way he presented himself to the public — a loving father with the perfect family — a doting wife with two very young children. And he always made sure they were around for any public event for photo opportunities to further enhance the made-up image.

I had to laugh at the hypocrisy.

Family man by day, prostitute beater by night.

And now murderer would be added to his list of titles if I had anything to do with it.