Prologue
Present Day
The back of the chair almost gave out under my weight. Sitting on it had become a habit of mine. Up on the back. Looking down at my subjects.
A spite to my dear MamĂĄ.
Candlelight flickered in the mirror above the fireplace. It was a beautiful room. Marble floor, golden details cutting of the white pillars. White sofas with golden feet. Golden fireirons. Gold and white. Fitting.
Maybe I'd buy the furniture if they had a post crime scene yard sale.
âSo? What's it gonna be, mamĂĄ?â I met the eyes of the crying woman, studying her. She sobbed loudly. I smiled as I took in the mascara that was running. Expensive, beautiful. Her dress was also some luxury brand. âYouâre embarrassing yourself in front of your kids.â I got up. Standing on the seat of the chair as I surveyed the dinner table.
The view from up there was delicious. The fatherâs fear made me warm inside.
âIf you don't make a choice, I will choose.â My cutting voice made her dissolve in deeper sobs. The cutlery clattered against the porcelain as her hands trembled. She didnât dare look at me. It was understandable.
A sigh escaped me. Unimpressed and bored. I fixed my makeup. The father flinched as I quickly turned my head to look at him. I smirked.
Painting my face was just a precaution. Not one of my victims had pressed charges, yet. The states did however. One does not kill powerful men unpunished.
âI thought youâd be fun.â My hand stroked over the leather bound hunting knife. Its blade glinted in the light. My eyes drifted back to the mother.
âNo, please! Not in front of our kids!â she begged. I raised my eyebrows.
âWhy not? Theyâre big enough to see their father fuck the maid. They should be old enough to see him pay for it,â I said with a shrug. Her eyes widened. So she didnât know about their maid?
Didn't know? Or maybe chose to not see. Either way, he is toast.
Toasted like bread. With butter and some marmalade.
âYou canât kill me for cheating,â the man protested angrily. Angry. Men always translate their emotions to anger. Itâs so predictable and tiresome.
âOh, but you donât just cheat, now do you, Danny?â I pushed the porcelain bowl into his lap, scalding his cock with the hot stew. Hottest for daddy. âYou also belittle your wife, force her to cater to your every need. MeanwhileâŠâ My eyes flicked to the wife briefly. âShe always comes last. Always last. Daddy gets served first. Children get the perfect middle.â I sat on the table, just before his face. My feet rested on his thighs as I leaned in close to his face, looking into his dark brown eyes. They matched mine.
The only detail that set us apart was the fact that he had the copper line around his pupil, I did not.
Shiny gold.
âBut mommy,â I chuckled with another sigh. Shaking my head as I looked at his ruined pants. âOh, poor Mommy, Mommy gets to eat her food cold, after catering to you.â As I said it, I held the knife to his throat. I pressed the tip against his skin. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make him acutely aware of its presence.
âSo? Itâs not a crime to have a stay-at-home wife.â I smiled brighter at his protest.
âAh, but she wasnât a stay-at-home wife to start with, right? No, sir.â I twisted the knife. âAt first she was making more than you, but you made her put forth all the money for this lavish house, your business, the cars. The image.â I glanced around at the opulent luxury all around us. âThen you forced her into the role of the homemaker. Breaking her down, slowly. Easy does it.â The knife's point pierced his skin, a small bead of blood ran down the blade. âA small jab here, one condescending comment there. Breaking her. Humiliating her. Moulding her.â Grooming.
His eyes widened as I got up, walking around him. Stroking his shoulders.
âDo you want to fuck me before I end it? Or do you need pills to get it up?â I licked his cheek. âI can be really good. Much better than your secretary.â
The wife looked up. Her grey eyes flicked between me and her husband. My grin grew even bigger.
âShe didnât know about your young, hot secretary?â I turned back to the husband. âIt's not that weird. Sheâs the same age as your wifeâs little sister. I mean imagine, your husband, fucking someone so young. Just barely legal.â His neck cracked and he moaned in pain as I pulled his head back by his hair. âAm I too old for you, Danny?â
My voice was deceptively pleading and sad. Mocking him at every syllable.
âYou donât really think your secretary enjoys you fucking her, right?â Giggling slightly, I leaned my head on his shoulder. âYou donât really have the time to start enjoying it when it only lasts a minute. Right?â Now I looked to the wife to get her to agree with me.
Her eyes were on her husband. Her tears had stopped.
âYou like your maid better, right? Young, and without any safety net.â My eyes returned to the terrified man. âBarely speaks the language, so she can't ask for help even if she wanted to.â
It was time. I jammed the knife into the husbandâs throat, slitting it so his blood showered the white table, the table cloth, the white bowls, white candles.
âBeautiful.â My voice came out awestruck as I held the husbandâs head back so it continued to spray. Painting the entire room in his blood. Warm, deep, dark red blood. I stroked my throat and chest with his blood. âDaddy will not be coming home anymore.â I giggled and spun.
Crimson drops. Crimson drops. Beautiful on my skin. Goes perfectly with gold.
GOLDEN
Coming 2026 by Margareta Strööm














