Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 5

"That's so much better." She washed away every bit of dirt. Clean and refreshed, Margaret felt renewed.
She looked in the mirror.
Her figure was slender and shapely. Her skin had a healthy glow. With her small face and delicate features, she should have looked innocent and sweet.
But the small beauty mark near her eye and the slight, mischievous curve of her lips made every expression seem alluring and dangerous.
"Damn, I look good."
For a moment, Margaret couldn't look away.
She loved beautiful people, whether they were men or women.
Beautiful things were just nice to look at.
She walked out of the bathroom and put on the clean clothes laid out for her. It was a fitted black outfit that hugged her body, making her lines sharper and her curves more defined. She tied up her hair. Every movement she made was captivating, as if she could steal hearts with just a walk.
This girl was absolutely stunning.
At some point, Andrew had entered the room. His eyes darkened as he watched her.
Margaret noticed his gaze. She kept her confident, casual smile and walked straight toward him. Her steps were smooth and graceful.
She lifted an arm. Her long fingers hooked onto his collar. With a light tug, two buttons came undone, revealing his well-defined collarbone.
Her smile turned mischievous, like a purple rose in full bloom—bold and striking. She leaned in close, her full lips warm, almost brushing against his ear. "Hey, handsome. How do I look?"
Her voice was as seductive as she was, soft and sweet. She deliberately blew a teasing breath into his ear. Like a bad girl.
His ear tingled.
His body tensed. A shiver ran through him like an electric current.
She had that kind of charm that made a man's pulse spike without even trying.
But the man in the wheelchair seemed completely unaffected—cold as iron, unmoved by her flirtation.
"You look pretty good," he said.
His tone was deep and smooth, pleasant to listen to. Hearing him speak felt like a treat.
"Sweet talker."
She straightened up and gave him a dazzling smile.
Margaret's eyes sparkled.
She could hardly control herself...
This man was just too attractive.
She really wanted to taste him.
She started walking ahead. "Let's go. I'll take you to see someone get killed."
She said it lightly, even sounding a little excited, as if she couldn't wait.
The man behind her stood in the shadows, his expression unreadable.
"Sir, who is this?"
The middle-aged man saw a breathtaking girl walk out of Andrew's room and froze.
"It's me," Margaret said, raising a hand casually, her manner frivolous.
Andrew watched as she teased another man just as boldly, all charm and seduction. His eyes grew darker.
"Huh? It's... it's you?" The middle-aged man was shocked. They had picked a random slave, and she had turned out to be an incredible beauty.
He wanted to take a closer look, but he noticed that Andrew's gaze turned icy—like a cold-blooded beast warning others not to covet what belonged to it.
A chill ran down the man's spine. Startled, he looked away right away, not daring to glance again.
In the fighting ring, that foreign brute was still brawling. His current opponent was a woman. She was trembling so badly she couldn't even fight back.
It was a living hell.
The middle-aged man looked at the girl beside him and felt a pang of pity. A beauty like her—if she faced that monster, she would end up even worse than the woman in the ring.
"You don't have to go in there," Andrew said.
He glanced at her cool, stunning face and suddenly disliked the idea of letting her die.
"No, I'm going," she insisted. She was full of pent-up energy. If she didn't let out this urge to fight, she would feel unwell.
Andrew was stunned. She had refused his offer without a second thought.
Did she really have a death wish?
He imagined her being beaten by that brute, just like the woman in the ring.
His mood soured.
A storm gathered in his eyes. Dark, sharp, and deadly.
He was ready to settle this the only way he knew.
His hand dipped into his pocket, fingers closing around the cold, deadly pistol. 
He paused for a heartbeat, then lifted it slowly, the icy barrel aimed straight at the man in the ring