What They Don’t Know
Rachel and her man-of-the-moment thought they were so smart. A bodyguard wouldn’t prevent me from acting. Didn’t they realize I’d played this precarious game for years? Outwitting cops, reporters, and even my victims was a finely honed skill—like any refined craft. I knew what to say and do so that I was always a step ahead of everyone. Nobody second-guessed me.
I was that good at what I did. With all the places I’d been… All the women I’d known… I had no choice but to be sharper than the so-called experts.
Some people might say I was a master manipulator—either that or I was superb with women. But I didn’t believe I was that arrogant or that illogical. Instead, I saw myself as someone who was observant of people. I watched them carefully, learning everything possible about them until I knew them exceedingly well. I discovered their little idiosyncrasies and hidden desires—the things they thought they wanted.
That was the key—learn all you could and then use it to your benefit. Over the years, I’d gained different techniques depending on who I pursued.
Take women, for instance. All of them claimed to want a man who was totally into them—a man who was devoted to their every need. The type of male who would break his neck trying to satisfy a woman. Then when the right man entered their lives, it wasn’t enough. She always found imperfections in every little thing he did. Or she was the type who wasn’t easily pleased. She wanted more than he could give. Taking, taking, taking—constantly. It was the fickle nature of the weaker sex.
And they were weak—exceedingly so. Stroke a woman in just the right way, and she’d come repeatedly. Tell her she was beautiful, and she melted. It was all in the delivery. Something not every man could do.
But I could.
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