Page 24 of Trapping His Assassin

As the moonlight illuminated her skin, I couldn’t help but notice how it glowed against the deep red of the Maserati’s hood. I pinned her down on top of the car, commanding control, as she eagerly took in every thrust and moaned for more. It was like she was made for me, my little seductive killer, who could match my passion and desire with ease.

Something pulled me from kissing more than her soft neck. It didn’t matter that she was unresponsive. I could use her. Although I didn’t want to be married, I understood the practicality. I certainly didn’t want an heir, however, I needed one more than any of the men before me. They were Petrovs by blood, I was a Petrov from sweat. We weren’t the same.

There was a risk to keeping her alive, but her pheromones drove me too wild to think. I sank the needle into her neck so she wouldn’t wake up during the trip. I couldn’t care less if the authorities got involved. Fuck their bureaucratic bullshit. I tossed the syringe to Benedikt, and carried her bridal style to the trunk.

Benedikt jogged ahead of me, so he could open it. I placed her gently in the trunk of the car. I didn’t want any spies seeing her with me. Never be too careful. I climbed into the passenger seat, happy that Viktor sent Benedikt to help me out.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Benedikt growled as soon as I was in the car.

I knocked once for no, keeping my answers short, saving my voice for my little killer. I didn’t want to have to resort to using my text-to-speech software. Not with her. But it would be fine with Benedikt, so I whipped out my phone to preserve what little was left of my voice.

“Are you planning on taking her to America?”

I paused before answering, really thinking about it. I hadn’t given it much consideration, but I should take her back home. I could make her my queen, but something told me that my little killer wouldn’t want to do that. We had a similar darkness.

I nodded my answer, and signed my stomach growing, so he understood my intentions.

We made it to the safehouse on the outskirts of Tuscany. It was a small fortress for me. I’d acquired it from a friend who no longer had use for the property, since it’d been compromised in a raid. It could hold only a few people.

But there was enough room for the small set of Russian men we had with us, and my new toy.

We had enough supplies to last us a few weeks after the meeting. In case shit was too hot, and we couldn’t leave the area immediately. For now, I would allow Benedikt to run the show. He was more experienced, and I’d already fucked up in the Pakhan’s eyes by getting shot.

I waited anxiously for my angel to awaken. Her fierce stare gave me direction, and I feared she would become less cooperative if she remained unconscious for too long. She had a trick up her sleeve, and I was determined to uncover it.

I prayed that she would banish the notion of killing me. If not, there would be a painful lesson on top of what I already planned for her in the future.

As I observed my target in a state of rest, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen her before. Part of me wanted her to wake up, and make eye contact with me. The sedatives should haveworn off by now, but I made sure to give her an extra dose in case she had a higher metabolism. The last thing I wanted was for her to regain consciousness, and try to escape from the trunk. It was clear that she was skilled and capable, which only added to my intrigue about her identity.

I didn’t strap her to the bed, because I had some hangups from living with Alexie. Understandable after Sloane was kept away. While I understand the reason behind keeping her tied to the bed, as a small child, it was traumatizing to witness.

But I kept quiet, and learned from Alexie, as I set out to do. I was sick of being the victim. It was time I became strong enough to be the perpetrator. I still had rules that I stuck by. But not much was off limits. Children were, but not in the way most would think. I had no problem killing them, but I refused to drag it out in any way. I wasn’t a sick fucking person. Quick and merciful when I get the mission.

If I received an order to take someone out, I made sure I carried out that mission without fail. If that made me a monster, then I was the product of my environment. I savored her scent as it permeated my sheets. Lying next to her while she was sleeping wasn’t the smartest idea, but I couldn’t help myself.

She reminded me of someone.

As I gazed at her, the scent of coconut and vanilla wafted from her tousled hair. A stray curl had fallen in front of her face, and without thinking, I reached out to tuck it behind her ear. Her locks were wild, with hints of red and gold shining through the brown strands. I couldn’t help but wonder what products she used to keep her hair so luscious and full. My mind wandered to our possible future together – would our children inherit her beautiful mane?

My mind was filled with irrational thoughts. Having children at my age seemed impossible. The men around me already didn’t take me seriously; would having a family change that? WouldI gain their respect quicker, if I had a beautiful, curvaceous woman by my side? But she was clouding my judgment, and all my intelligence seemed to disappear in her presence. That’s why I needed to end things with her. As I traced patterns on her arm, I found myself fascinated by how even the slightest touch caused goosebumps to form on her skin. Her reactions to me brought a sense of happiness that was foreign and unfamiliar to me. I couldn’t recall ever feeling happy in my life before this moment.

I wanted to trail kisses down her body, and wake her up with my cock deep inside, but that would probably get me a knife to the gut. She was a paranoid bird. No, I would keep my hands off the enemy. She wanted me dead. There was no reason to succumb to her feminine charms.

I glanced over at the figure resting on my meticulously hand-sewn, blood-red silk sheets as my phone vibrated. The gold-threaded embroidery shimmered against the deep crimson color, giving the room an opulent, yet slightly ostentatious, aesthetic. It may have been considered gaudy by some, but for me, it was perfect. After all, I was a bit of a neat freak who couldn’t tolerate any sign of imperfection, especially stains.

Benedikt: Caught a live one out here. Leave the girl and let’s get down to business.

Me: Roger that.

I placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before hopping out of bed to accompany my Great Uncle Benedikt. He was a spy for The Brotherhood, and a damned good one at that. If anyone could support me in gathering information on Don Ricci’s movements, it was him.

I left two kids guarding the exits, so my new pet wouldn’t run away while I was gone.

It wasas if wood chips lined my esophagus, after spending a bit of time with my little killer. But I wouldn’t change this painful feeling for the world. I loved speaking to her. She was the only one though. No one else.

Great Uncle Benedikt took me on an hour-long drive back into Don Ricci’s territory, but farther away from his compound, deep in the country.

“I couldn’t risk bringing him to the safe house, and his screams would surely bring unwanted attention. The middle of nowhere seemed like our best bet,” he explained, gesturing towards the desolate landscape surrounding us.

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