I was standing in disbelief in my office, leaning against the desk, smoking my cigarette, and staring at the crazy woman sitting in the armchair, taking off her damn heels.
"We need to tell the housekeeper to order a cleaning of the office; the blood from that idiot stained this Persian rug, and I once saw an auction where a rug of this same model set a record, sold for almost 34 million dollars," she said nonchalantly and tossed her heels aside. Finally, she pushed her wavy, light-colored hair back, tying it up, and looked up, crossing her legs in dark-washed jeans that hid her pale thighs from me. "You're awfully quiet. You haven't questioned anything since you called me here."
I exhale the smoke and tap the ashes into the ashtray.
"I confess I'm stunned by your coldness. Your resourcefulness in tying up the guy to buy time was also sublime," I'm bruising my pride to admit this shit. Watching Lavínia desperately try to access the arsenal to defend herself from the unconscious bastard was thrilling, with a touch of unmatched tension. "I didn't think you'd pull it off. I'm genuinely impressed."
She swung her leg, and my gaze locked onto her size 35 foot trembling on purpose.
"You guys scared me. If I'd known you were going to test me to see if I had the mental strength to kill, I would've prepared myself," she said, and I saw the anger in her eyes.
"It was good to catch you off guard."
"Yeah. I see you love catching me off guard," she rolled her eyes, full of irony. Impatient, she stood up and went to the drink table, and I watched her closely as she poured two crystal glasses with fine 1777 cognac. Barefoot and walking on her tiptoes, she came to me, handed me a glass, and leaned against the desk beside me. "And if I hadn't managed to escape?" she asked in a low tone.
I look at the drink in the same hand holding the cigarette between my fingers.
"They believed you wouldn't have the capacity to kill him," I confess. I could still hear the three hitmen chewing me out during the video call while Lavínia was locked in that room with a wretch.
"And you? Did you think the same?"
I bring the glass to my lips and sip the drink.
"I don't waste my time being that stupid," I look at her firmly. Reflexively, she also drank the cognac and made a face. I smile.
"I'm flattered by the confidence you have in me," she mocked and shifted her attention from my face, focusing on some point on the wall.
"Don't your ears hurt?" I ask, curious. The girl used one of the worst weapons we have without any protection.
"The AK doesn't make that much noise; its thing is just causing damage."
I get curious.
"How do you know that gun?"
"Action movies. I watched them in secret from my father," she revealed, and I saw her look down, staring at the drink in her hands. "It's the gun I admire the most," she looked into my eyes. "What's the deal with this collar on my neck?" She touched her neck.
It's my turn to sit in the armchair in front of her, relaxing my shoulders, spreading my legs, and resting the glass on my thigh.
"It has a device that activates other devices," I reveal and take another drag of my cigarette.
Lavínia caressed the collar.
"How did you know I'd figure out the key was the collar?"
"Because there's not a single minute of your life when you forget about me."
"You're being egotistical, vain, and pathetically arrogant."
"I prefer to use the term that encompasses all the bullshit of the truth," I blow out the smoke. "You know you belong to me. There's no point running from what's obvious, true, and real."
Lavínia set her glass on the table and came to me, spreading my legs further with hers, leaning forward, looking into my eyes with her deadly amber gaze, and gripping my thighs tightly, pressing her fingers into the fabric of my dress pants, gaining momentum and kneeling between my legs.
"Based on what did you conclude that I'm yours?" she murmured, and I noticed her voice change as I leaned forward to look at her closely, our faces almost touching.
I drink the rest of my drink.
"Seeing you kill that bastard fueled my certainty even more. You may not admit it to yourself, but drowning in other seas while only getting wet for me is a big mistake," I said against her nose, letting her travel with me through the almost apricot aroma of the cognac. To bring her back to reality, I brought my cigarette to her tank top and put it out on her breasts.
She watched the action and raised her face.
"Your luck is that I'm wearing padding. Otherwise, I'd pretend I didn't feel the burn on my nipple, swallow the pain of the burn, and kiss you here…" she whispered, kissing my lips slowly, without deepening the kiss, and continued. "While my hands would reach for your belt, unbuckle it, and pull your dick out of your pants…" Her hands ran up my thighs, and I felt a shiver down my spine as her small hand groped my dick through the side of my boxers, squeezing it with pressure right on the head. I groaned in her mouth from the sensation and swallowed hard, staring into her naughty owl eyes, my chest heaving with the adrenaline of her touching my dick. "I'd bring my mouth to it, do the impossible to take you to the back of my throat, give my all in this damn blowjob, and when you were about to come, I'd bite the head of your penis so hard I'd mark my teeth around it, and by a miracle, I wouldn't rip the head off."
I squeezed my eyes shut at the distress of imagining that shit.
"Burning your nipple with a cigarette butt isn't reason enough for such aggression toward my private parts," I looked at her, kissing her forehead. She laughed, slowly closing her eyes and opening them again. "I won't hurt you anymore," I confide in a barely audible hiss.
The office door creaked, and Lavínia quickly let go of my dick. We looked together to see who it was.
"Sister. Uncle Ângelo," it was Faruk, holding the black kitten I rescued, which was growing. He entered the office with a wide smile and closed the door.
Lavínia looked at me, turned, and sat on the rug between my legs.
"Come here," she called him.
Her brother ran to the desk, set the kitten on it, and climbed up too, making me smile as he sat and petted the kitten.
"Careful not to fall," I warn, tossing the cigarette butt into the glass and setting it on the floor, touching Lavínia's hair, seeing her flinch from not expecting it. I gather her bundle of hair to one side, touching her shoulders and squeezing them with my fingers, massaging.
She made a sound of pleasure, and that pleased me greatly.
"Uncle Ângelo, my sister said you're the one who controls her," Faruk said, swinging his feet off the desk.
I stared at Lavínia's hair and kept giving her a good, soothing massage, trying to relieve the fatigue and muscle tension in her shoulders.
"She's the one who controls me, Faruk."
Lavínia laughed in disbelief.
"He lies so much his face doesn't even twitch," she said, smiling, all spirited. A delight. And she doesn't even know that tonight I'm going to fuck her for hours because watching her kill gave me a hell of a hard-on.
"Sister, what's it like to control five men?"
"Five?" She didn't understand.
"Uncle Ângelo, the three stooges, and me," he laughed loudly, filling the dead office with the sound of life.
I smile, looking at Faruk, and desperately wishing my little boy would wake from his coma and come live with me, to have Faruk make him laugh a lot.
***
"The only one who didn't doubt Lavínia's ability to pass the mission was Ângelo," Hitman 2 said.
While I was training, the three were in the middle of the gym discussing who bet on Lavínia's victory or not.
"27, you saying our girl doesn't have the knack for the business is being a damn fool. Everyone saw the show Lavínia put on, and on her first try," Hitman 1 commented, stunned by the little owl's performance.
I smile, knowing internally that I expected this. Lavínia has nothing to lose, and I said she'd show her true face when confronted with the dark truth surrounding her. Realizing her father and an entire country want her dead made her face her own principles to escape death. Lavínia would die fighting if necessary.
And I'm here to kill and die for her.
I freeze the weight bar in the air and stare at the ceiling, facing the disaster creeping up on me. I was putting Lavínia in a position where anyone would say she was important to me. But the truth is, I'm interested in the sex… we hate each other.
"The bastard didn't even touch her," Hitman 2 was incredulous. "This female is going to give us trouble. I'm already dreaming of her storming casinos, in a long, tight red dress, her hair flowing against the wind, unloading all the bullets from the AK-47."
I grimace at the lunatic's dream.
"We don't storm casinos," Hitman 27 reminded him.
"I know. I'm just dreaming," Hitman 2 replied, and they all burst into laughter.
I lock the weight bar in the hook and, sweating from my abs, sit up, grabbing my water bottle and hydrating, trying to normalize my panting breath from the weights I was lifting in multiple sets without pause.
"Ângelo, you still haven't told us what you thought of Lavínia's mission," Hitman 1 approached and tossed me a dry towel. I catch it and wipe the damn sweat dripping. I need to fuck…
"Interesting," I reply simply and check the time through the glass. It's going to take forever for night to fall… damn it! I like fucking at night until dawn.
"Just interesting?"
Impatient, I give him a deadly look, wanting to kill him for testing my patience while I try to distract myself from the suppressed arousal in my body.
"You guys get surprised by anything. Go fuck yourselves," I stood up and turned my back on them, leaving the damn gym that I thought would help and only made my state worse. Hearing her name all the time didn't help at all.
***
She opened the door, and I slowly ran my gaze from her feet, bare legs, green nightgown with transparent parts, neck with the collar I put on her, and angelic face, locking eyes with hers.
"It's 11 p.m. I'm getting ready to sleep. What the hell do you want at this hour?" she asked, furious.
My hands were pressed against each side of the doorframe, and I smiled.
"I think tonight I want you to bite the head of my dick."
She blinked.
"What?"
"I came to fuck your mouth, your pussy, and your entire body," I declared possessively and entered her room. Lavínia, somewhat dazed and disoriented, stepped back. I pushed the door and turned the key, locking it, then turned and looked at her, walking toward her as the pretty little thing retreated, thinking she'd escape being pounded tonight until the sun rises.
"Ângelo…" She raised her hand in the air, and I stopped my steps before her hands could touch the scars on my bare chest, since I was only wearing gray sweatpants with nothing underneath, all to make our carnal act easier. Her gaze fixed on my abdomen, and with a melancholic, slightly uncomfortable, and deeply sad look, she met my eyes. "I really want to touch you. Your body. Your chest and scratch your back."
My heart raced wildly.
Son of a bitch!
Why does she have to fuck everything up?
I already said I can't. Damn it!