An Assassin’s Oath by Shayla Hart
Ezra
“Father, will you please just hear me out.” I grit as I follow my father through the house toward his office.
“There’s nothing to hear, Ezra, the decision has already been made, and that’s the end of it.” My father snarls as he opens the door to his office and stalks in. I follow him and watch as he picks up dossier and proceeds to flick through it. God, this man is insufferable.
“No, it’s not the end of it. Not if I have anything to say about it.” I argue back, and my father lifts his icy blue eyes and glares at me. “I will not marry Calum. I don’t care if society deems it or if you promised his father that it was a done deal. It’s my life, and I’m saying no. I already have a boyfriend.”
My father drops the file in his hand on the desk somewhat hard and regards me carefully. “And what makes you think you have a say in the matter, Ezra? Your little boyfriend agreed to dump you, and all it took was a measly hundred thousand. That’s all you were worth to him, Ezra.”
I gape at him, stunned. “I don’t believe you! You paid him off to leave me!”
I look down at the checkbook he tossed in front of me. I pick it up and see the stamp with Xavi’s name and the hundred grand signed off by my father.
My father glares at me. “You will marry Calum Ezra!” He barks, pointing his forefinger in my face.
“I will not marry that pompous, preppy little ass licker. If you adore him so damn much, you marry him!” I hiss angrily and turn to leave, but my father’s hand hitting his oak desk and the booming sound of his voice made me halt.
“Ezra, get back here!” I turn to face him, and the anger in his eyes made my insides shrivel. “Since when have you become so imprudent to speak to your father in such a manner. You will respect me, and you will obey!”
“Obey?” I scoff and defiantly cross my arms over my chest, “I am neither an employee nor a child. I am twenty-three years old. You can’t force me to marry someone I don’t love for the sake of your selfish gains. I am not a business deal! And respect works both ways, father. You taught me that, remember?”
“Love? Don’t be naive, mi hija. Do you think I loved your mother when we met? Love is nothing but a fantasy, respect, and compromise; those are all you need to make a marriage work. Don’t be foolish. Calum is a good egg, and he is wealthy in his own right. You’ll be living a life of luxury, and he will take care of you. What more could you want?”
“I don’t need him to take care of me!” I shout hotly. “I don’t need Calum or anybody else. Please don’t punish me because you never got the son you always wanted. I know that you don’t think I have what it takes to take over once you retire. That’s what this is all about. You’re planning on having Calum take your place while I sit back and play the dutiful trophy wife.” My father sighs and sits in his chair.
“I’m only looking out for your best interests, mi hija. Everything is in place. The wedding is in three weeks. You will marry Calum.” There’s a threatening edge to his tone, and I should have backed down, but I didn’t.
“And if I don’t? What then?”
My father leans forward, placing his forearms on the table, and looks at me, a shadow of a smirk on his face. “You’ll be cut off, the money, the cars, all will be gone. You want to live your own life, make your own choices, you can do so, but without my help, without my money. Let’s see how far you get, sweet pea.” Bastard! I should have seen this coming. Daddy knows I’m too accustomed to my lifestyle.
As a V.P at H.Q Corp, I’d have no job. If I tried to make it out there independently, he would make it damn near impossible for me to get a job anywhere; his influence goes far beyond New York. “I believe we have come to an understanding, Darling?”
Damn him.He’s got me cornered. Without another word, I turn and walk out of his office. I have three weeks to find a way out of this marriage. Like hell, I’m marrying that stuck-up asshole. As far as my father is concerned, Daddy’s good little girl will do as she’s asked. Marry the upper east sides most sought-after bachelor—Calum Sinclair.
God, I can’t tolerate him, while he was incredibly good looking with his sharp facial features, clean cut with piercing green eyes, and blond hair shaved at the sides with the top long and swept back neatly. Prim and proper. He was every girl’s dreamboat—everyone but mine. I’ve been dodging his attempts to court me for years, but he never seemed to accept that I didn’t want him. I didn’t then—and I still don’t now. I can’t believe Xavi sold me out for money. What a colossal asswipe and to think I was considering sleeping with him.
I am done with these stupid immature boys!
I walk into my bedroom, close the door behind me and lean against it. If I was going to be forced into marrying a man I can barely tolerate, I’m going to make damn sure I enjoy what freedom I have till then. I walk over to my bed and pick up my cell phone. I dial my best friend Jordin and wait for her to answer.
“Hey, Chiquita.”
“Hey Chiquita, we’re going out tonight. I need to blow off some serious steam.”
“Okay, where are we going?” I move over to the full-length mirror on my wall and stare at my reflection. I felt as though a storm was brewing inside of me. I was beyond angry with my father but more so at myself for allowing him to treat me like I was something he owned, something he could control.
“Someplace wild. You know all the best hangouts. Pick one. I want to get fucked up tonight.” I tell her and walk into my closet. The light comes on, and I run my fingers through the line of clothes I have hung up on the railing.
“What’s got you twisted?” Jordin asks, and I heave a sigh pulling out a red mini dress.
“I’ll fill you in later after I have a few martinis in me.” I pick out a pair of black Louboutin’ stilettos and walk over to my bed.
“Say no more. I’ll round up the ladies. See you around eleven o’clock, Chiquita.”
“Ciao Chiquita.” I hang up the phone and toss it aside. I have two hours before Jordin arrives with the girls.
If I was doomed to have monotonous sex with Calum for the rest of my life, I sure as hell wasn’t about to waste my virtue on that dull, self-centered knucklehead. Just the thought of him touching me makes my stomach turn.
I’m twenty-three years old. I was waiting for the right man, the man I would fall in love with, to share the most sacred part of me. However, that’s now shot to hell, so on with plan b. Find someone I am attracted to and have what I hope will be a night of wild sex.
* * *
True to her word,Jordin showed up at my house in a town car. Her driver Stephen jumps out of the car and opens the door for me to get in. “Thank you, Stephen.” I smile at him, and he nods, blushing.
“Miss Quintero.” He greets and waits for me to slide in and closes the door. As soon as the door closes, Jordin hands me a flute of champagne in my hand. “Drink up, Chiquita.” She orders, and I laugh. That’s why I love her; she knows exactly what I need to wind down.
I knock back the champagne, and the girls all hoot. Jordin takes my empty glass and hands me a fresh one. “You have to catch up, girl. Stephen hit it!” On her command, the music begins blasting through the sound system in the car. I force myself to leave my worries behind and enjoy myself.
I toss back the second glass of champagne, and Jordin nudges me with her shoulder. I smile at her and nod silently, assuring her I was alright. She doesn’t push and drops it.
We pull up at a club on 60th called Blaze. It was one of those private member clubs for the rich and famous. Stephen pulls the door open, and we all pile out of the car and make our way to the entrance. Two burly, heavily tattooed security guards stood at the door, arms crossed over their chests, earpieces in their ears. “Ladies,” They greet and lower the red satin rope for us to enter.
“Jordin, table five as usual.” One tells her, and she offers him a sugary smile followed by a wink as she strolls past him.
“Thank you, sugar,” We make our way inside the club, passing by couples kissing rather heatedly. I scan the room leisurely as we make our way to the VIP area, situated close to the dancefloor with a comfortable red booth with a table in the middle filled with drinks—a couple bottles of Belvedere vodka, bottles of Dom and Patron filled the table.
The music was thundering through the speakers making it almost impossible to stand still without dancing.
“Ladies, shots!” Jordin shouts, holding shot glasses to us. We all take it and down the shot. I wince at the sharp taste and the burn as it washes down. I was never a vodka drinker but fuck it, all rules are out the window. Three shots later, Jordin drags me out to the dancefloor; the other girls were back at the table, talking to many guys who joined the table. I wasn’t drunk, but I had a nice buzz going. So, I allow the music to take over and dance; it wasn’t long before we had guys dancing with us.
I look up at my dancing partner, and he smiles; he leans close to my ear, “You’re smokin’ hot, baby. Let me buy you a drink.” I roll my eyes, instant turn off. Not for me. He was too preppy, a pretty boy, just like Calum. I politely decline his offer and look over at Jordin, who was dancing heatedly with her partner. I smile and shake my head, my bladder was on the verge of blowing up, so I make my way through the crowded dancefloor looking for the bathroom. I finally find it and push the door open, walking inside. I hadn’t realized how much I had to drink. It felt like I was peeing for hours. I wash my hands and look in the mirror, touching up my makeup, applying another coat of red lipstick.
I walk out of the bathroom and make my way back to our VIP booth. I was looking for the table, but it was so crowded I couldn’t get through the throng of people dancing everywhere. I wasn’t going to get through this way, so I turn to find another way when I walk into a solid chest, and a pair of strong hands hold my forearms.
I lift my eyes and find myself staring into a pair of gray eyes. They looked almost like liquid steel. I couldn’t look away; something about this stranger had me enthralled. My God, he was beautiful, ruggedly handsome, very tall, if I had to guess, I’d say over six foot three and a solid build judging by the size of his arms. I could only assume what he had under that black t-shirt wasn’t going to disappoint either.
It felt like we were standing there for an eternity, just staring at each other silently. His eyes traveled from mine down to my lips and flickered back up again. Jesus, breathe Ezra, speak, say something!
“Hi,” His eyes narrow for a moment, and he nods, leaning close, and for a fleeting second, I thought he was going to kiss me until his lips brush against my ear as he spoke, his voice roguish and deep. It sent shivers through me.
“You look lost.”
I smile and shrug, “I kind of am. It’s so crowded I can’t get back to the VIP booth.” He nods in understanding, and his eyes scan the room and stops before he looks down at me again. “You with the rowdy group of girls over there.” I follow his gaze, and sure enough, I see my friends at the booth. I nod, and before I could say anything, I feel his arm snake around my waist, and he guides me through the crowd with ease. There was something about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He had an aura of supremacy; he held a wicked glint in his eyes and gave nothing away.
Mysterious.
Instead of heading toward the booth, he steered us toward the bar. While waiting for the bartender to prepare the drinks, I took that time to look him over. Strong facial features, short, trimmed beard, a tad longer than a stubble, full luscious lips, and wide gray eyes. Dark hair cut short on the back and sides, and the top styled messily. I blink, snapping out of my trance when he holds a drink up at me. I smile and take the martini. He turns and faces me, leaning one arm against the bar, watching me while I took a sip of my drink. “Dry Martini. My favorite drink. Lucky guess?”
He looks at me, licks his lips, and shrugs casually, “You strike me as the type of girl that would drink martinis. Pleased I was right.”
I smile and feel a blush touch my cheeks. Damien sips his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “And what type of girl is that exactly?”
His eyes lazily, and might I add very openly, gives me a once over, “Sophisticated,” I feel an unnatural heat coarse through me under his gaze. It could very well be the alcohol, but boy, this man was electric.
I sip my drink and deliberately lick my lips. It seems that caught his attention because he watches eagerly as my tongue sensually darts across my bottom lip. “I’m pleased you think so,” I say and hold out my hand to him. “I’m Ezra.” He looks down at my outstretched hand and lifts his own, taking mine into his larger one and squeezing slightly. Nice hands. Check. I gasp when he tugs my arm, and suddenly, I’m pressed up against him. Dominant. Double-check.
“Damien.” He drawls, staring into my eyes. My head was swimming. This man makes me dizzy in ways I’m not familiar with, but I like it. “Wanna get out of here?” I nod without hesitation, and he puts his glass down before he takes mine and places it on the bar. Damien takes my hand in his, and we make our way through the sea of people to the back of the club instead of the front entrance where we initially came in. We walk outside, and I allow him to lead the way; soon enough, we stop at a black Audi RS5. “Won’t your friends wonder where you disappeared too?” He questions, opening the passenger side door for me. Oh, shoot, he was right. I should probably tell Jordin.
“I’ll text them,” I tell him and slide into the car. He closes the door and walks around the vehicle to the driver’s side. I pull out my cell phone, send Jordin a quick text, and put my phone back in my purse. I’m vaguely aware I’m sitting in a stranger’s car about to drive someplace to have sex. Usually, I would think up a million reasons to avoid situations such as these, but I’m feeling relatively calm considering.
“You look worried.” I hear Damien say as he pushes a button, and the engine roars to life. “Second thoughts?”
I shake my head and look over at him. “No, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” I chuckle nervously, “You’re not an axe murderer, are you?”
“Not tonight.” He jokes, and I smile, relaxing a little. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Ezra.”
“I’m fine. We can go,” I assure him, and he nods in return and proceeds to pull out and drive away from the club. I watch him and bite my bottom lip. He’s very mysterious, and I was feeling very uneasy. “Nice ride you got here.” Damien nods and glances over at me briefly before looking at the road again.
“Thank you. Gets me from A to B.”
“Rather quickly, I’d imagine. Top speed on this model is a hundred and fifty-five, right?”
Damien nods and glances at me again, this time in surprise, “You’re interested in cars?”
“I’m a speed junkie. I like fast cars.” He smirks very fleetingly and looks ahead. “Are you going to show me what this baby can do, or you going to continue to drive like my grandmother?” I tease and grin at him when he looks at me again and shakes his head.
“You asked for it.” I watch as Damien pushes a couple of buttons, and the LCD screen changes from economy mode to dynamic mode. I gasp when he accelerates suddenly, weaving in and out of traffic driving like a professional racer. I look at him; his eyes are fixed on the road, cool as a cucumber as if he wasn’t driving at a hundred and twenty-five miles per hour. What a rush. My heart was beating so hard and fast I thought it would give out on me.
Who is this guy?