Page 69 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

But this? This is for fun.

“She’s really in there just...cooking dinner,” Key whispers, shaking his head with a grin, his balaclava folded on his forehead. “Completely unaware three of the most dangerous men she knows are about to storm in and kidnap her.”

“That’s the point,” I say, my voice low but firm, keeping my eyes trained on Grace through the window. I can’t take them off her, not when she looks like that–so soft, so completely unprepared for what’s about to happen. “She wanted this.”

“She really asked for this?” Atlas’s voice rumbles low, quiet enough not to carry but full of disbelief. His breath fogs the air, and I can see his narrowed eyes glinting in the dark through the slits in his balaclava.

He’s still processing. I can’t blame him. None of us expected her to have a fantasy this wild, but then again, that’s part of what makes her Grace. She’s always surprising us. Always keeping us on our toes.

“Yup,” I say, adjusting my mask.

Through the frosted glass, Grace is at the counter, busying herself with dinner preparations. I can see the soft curve of her body, the way she moves with ease, completely unaware of thedangerlurking just outside, about to make her wildest fantasy come true.

“Didn’t know she had it in her,” Key says, his voice tinged with amusement. He’s crouched next to me, fiddling with the knives strapped to his belt, ever the perfectionist when it comes to his tools. His eyes dart to the window again, watching her. I can tell he’s itching to make his move. “So that’s the plan? We bust in and...what? Grab her, tie her up, and give her the night of her life?”

I grin behind my mask. “Pretty much.”

Key snickers. “Think she’ll scream?”

“Probably,” I admit, unable to hide the grin tugging at my lips beneath the mask. “But that’s part of the fun, right?”

Grace moves to the stove, her back to us, the soft glow of the kitchen light casting her in a golden hue. She’s humming to herself, completely at ease.

Atlas stands, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for battle. His bulk is impossible to ignore, and in the black tactical gear, he looks like a force of nature. The mask doesn’t hide the intensity in his eyes, the predatory gleam that always shows up when he’s on the hunt.

“You really think she’ll like this?” He asks, his voice a little softer now, the concern that only Grace could pull from him making its way to the surface.

“She asked for it,” I remind him, adjusting the gloves on my hands as I prepare myself for what’s about to go down. “Trust me, she’ll love it.”

“Of course she will,” Key cuts in, excitement clear in his voice. He bounces on his toes, full of energy, like a kid about to pull off the greatest prank of his life. “I mean, come on, Atlas. When’s the last time you saw Grace not loving something we did? She’s gonna eat this up.”

Atlas grunts but nods, resigned. He can’t argue with the truth. Grace has a way of surprising us all, and tonight is no different. The thought of her wanting us–really wanting us totake control in this way–it’s driving me crazy, even if I’m not showing it on the surface.

It’s a far cry from my usual cold, calculating self, but for once? I want to indulge in this. Push her limits. Push my own. I greatly enjoy this newfound addiction.

“Alright,” I say, my voice dropping into a command tone. “We go in, we keep it rough, but we don’t go too far. She wants it intense, but we don’t hurt her. Got it?”

Atlas nods, already pulling his balaclava down tighter over his face. His eyes are hard now, focused. Key, on the other hand, flashes me a quick grin and pulls his own mask down, the playful glint in his amber eyes never fading. He’s already in character.

“We go in on my signal,” I continue, checking the gear on my belt one last time. I don’t actually need half of this stuff, but the feel of it, the weight of the weapons, adds to the authenticity. And I know it’s going to get Grace’s heart pounding when she sees us, decked out like this, ready to take her. “We grab her, rough her up just enough to make it real. We’ll tie her down if we have to, keep her guessing, keep her on edge.”

Atlas’s gaze flicks back to the window, watching her move about, still oblivious. “And then?”

“And then,” I say with a smirk. “We give her exactly what she asked for.”

Key lets out a soft chuckle. “Damn, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

I give him a sidelong glance. “Any objections?”

“Hell no,” he says almost on a girlish squeal. “I’m just wondering how long she’s gonna last before she begs.”

That gets a chuckle out of Atlas, and I shake my head, knowing Grace is in for one hell of a night. The thrill of this–of making her fantasy come alive–it’s got my blood pumping in a way I haven’t felt in years.

“Alright, on my mark,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Three...two...one…”

I slam the door open with a thunderous bang, the sound reverberating through the cabin as we rush towards her. The kitchen light flickers for a moment from the force of the impact, and Grace spins around, her eyes wide, her hand instinctively clutching the spoon she’s been stirring with.

She freezes.

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