An Assassin’s Oath by Shayla Hart
Damien
There's a reason I avoid assignments like these. It's just too much hard work. Take Ezra for an example. So conceited and oblivious, wrapped up in her high society bullshit, without a clue about what goes on in the world, or under her own roof for that matter. So much so that she thinks this is some ridiculous fantasy her best friend has set up. Well, shit was about to get real for her really fast.
I knew she would try to escape or start snooping around the moment I left. I got a notification on my cell about a security breach. She's in my bedroom. I turn the car around and drive back up to the house. Luckily, I wasn't too far away. I jump out of the car and walk to the house; unlocking the front door, I quietly skip up the steps. There she was, remote in her hand, the other covering her mouth, clearly shocked. Stupid bitch couldn't leave well enough alone.
"Oh my God," I watch her reaction closely. Her face pales visibly while the reality of her situation comes crashing down on her at a hundred miles per second. My various passports were clutched in her hands. She suddenly drops the remote and the passports and turns until she walks straight into my body and gasps, startled.
"Damien."
"You shouldn't have done that," I stare down into her upturned face. Ezra blinks up at me and looks back at the armory I had concealed under my bed. Sniper guns, handheld guns, Glock forty-five, ranger rifle, and machine guns. One step back, two steps back, and she grabs a handgun and points it at me. I sigh and roll my eyes. She’s ballsy. I give her that, “Ezra put down the gun.”
“Let me go, or I swear I will shoot you.” Ezra threatens, her hands shaking wildly while she places her finger on the trigger. I take a step toward her, and she retreats. “Stay back, Damien!”
I stare into her eyes as I take another step until the barrel of the gun is pressed against my chest. “Go ahead. Pull the trigger.” I urge, and she stares at me through eyes swimming in tears. “Kill me, Ezra.” We stare at one another.
I lift my hand, wrap it around her wrist, and twist it until she drops the gun and whimpers a little when I yank her against me. “Pretty girl, if you’re bold enough to pick up a gun with intent to kill, you better be prepared to pull that trigger.” I let my eyes roam over her face before I look into her eyes. “Especially if the person you’re pointing a gun at is an assassin,” I inform her evenly, and her blue eyes go wide. Ezra stumbles back, her eyes avert to the door, and she takes off running.
I sigh and stride after her, easily catch up as she rounds the corner. I snake my arm around her waist, I pull her back against my chest, and she lets out a shrill scream. "Whoa. Where do you think you're going, princess."
"Let me go, please!" Ezra thrashes around in my hold like a fish out of water.
"Calm the fuck down." I tighten my hold on her and trap her arms with my own, but she wouldn't stop squirming. I lean close to her ear, "Don't force me to sedate you again." I warn her, and she stops fighting in my hold almost immediately.
"Again?" She breathes, and her voice quivers ever so slightly. "When did you..." She turns her head and looks up at me, her blue eyes wide, her state of panic evident. I stare down into her upturned face hard. I didn't think a woman could be even more beautiful without makeup. Ezra Quintero was an absolute goddess of exquisiteness, from her head to her fucking toes. Was I attracted to her? Undeniably. Will I let that little detail affect my job? Absolutely not.
I walk her back toward the guest room and push her into it. "What do you want with me?" She questions, stumbling into the room. Ezra walks around slowly, guarded, watching my every move as I close in on her.
I reach and wrap my hand around her throat, effortlessly lift her off the ground and drop her down on the bed. Ezra begins thrashing around, pushing and punching my chest as I climb on top of her. I grab hold of her hands and pin them above her head. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? You couldn't just sit there and behave."
"Why do you have all those weapons and passports?" She questions again, gazing up at me, blue eyes filled with fear. "What is Dynasty?"
I shake my head and sigh. "I suggest you start behaving yourself, Ezra. As I'm sure you're now aware, this is not a joke, and when I say I will kill you, know that I mean it."
Tears fill her eyes and spill down her pale cheeks. I let her go and get off the bed. Ezra shuffles away from me. "You want answers, get yourself dressed and come downstairs," I say and leave her standing there staring at my retreating back. "Don't make me come up here again," I throw over my shoulder and make my way downstairs.
* * *
I walkinto the living room and pull my cellphone from my pocket and dial James.
"Damien?"
"We have a problem," I growl down the phone, not bothering with pleasantries. I explain to him that she found my weapons and papers and she knows about the agency.
"Christ, Damien, how could you let this happen?"
"I popped out for supplies, and she began snooping."
"We'll deal with this later. Right now, we need something. Hugo won't bite. He wants proof of life, wants to be sure his daughter is alive before he pays out." I roll my eyes and sigh, "And Damien, it needs to be good. None of that strapped to a chair holding a newspaper bullshit. If he's paying twenty million dollars, they need something that will tarnish his reputation—something that will force his hand."
I scowl, "And you don't think he will pay that in exchange for his daughter's safety?"
"Remember, it's not just about Ezra. Hugo has fingers and arms everywhere. He won't go down without a fight, so you need to be vigilant and stay alert. Were you careful? Did you cover your tracks?" James asserts, and I can hear him exhale, which means he's smoking those damn cigars.
"Yes. Unless he put a tail on me, his cronies will have a tough time finding us where we are." I explain and turn when I hear the floorboard creak. I see Ezra standing by the staircase, watching me inquisitively. I look her over; she was wearing the pair of denim jeans and a satin ivory blouse I picked out for her. Her long dark hair looked almost jet black when wet, which she had braided neatly.
"Good lad. Send me something and make it soon."
"Consider it done." I hang up the phone and place it back into my back pocket. "Come here." She hesitates momentarily until I send her a withering glare, and she drops her gaze and moves over to me. "Do the clothes fit you all right?"
"Yes," She lifts her eyes to me again, her brows drawn together. "Perfectly. Even down to my bra size. How did you manage that?"
"I have my ways," I say and reach back, tugging my viper handgun from the hem of my jeans. Ezra gasps, alarmed, her eyes go wide, and she stares at the hand, gripping the gun in horror. "Relax, Ezra, I'm not going to shoot you," I assure her and slide the safety on and place the gun on the coffee table. Her gaze follows my viper pistol, and she stares at it for a long moment before they dart up to mine. "Sit." I jerk my head to the sofa, and she obeys. Ezra sits two feet away from me, and while I stare at her blankly, she looks back at me cagily.
"What?"
I sigh and shake my head. Reaching over, I pick up the dossier and hold it out to her. "Here." Ezra looks at the file in my hand and then back at me.
"What is this?"
"Your life," I tell her simply.
I watch as she frowns and opens the file and looks through it, flicking one page at a time. "Everything I have on you and your family." I get up and walk over to the bar to pour myself a drink while she browsed through the file.
I turn and watch her as I sip my scotch.
"Oh my god." Picking up the stack of photos, she looks through them. "How long have you been watching me, Damien?" Ezra questions holding up the pile of pictures.
"Only a couple of weeks." I sip my drink and lick my lips. God, this scotch was heaven. "I didn't take those photos. The people that hired me did."
"Why?" She sets the photos down and looks through the papers, her eyes scanning them one by one. "Who are these people?"
I shrug. "I don't know who they are." I walk over to her and take my seat again. "That's not what is important here. They hired me to abduct you, and in exchange for your life, they have asked for twenty million dollars."
Ezra lifts her eyes slowly and looks at me. "Twenty million?" I nod and lean forward, placing my forearms on my knees. "That's absurd. My father doesn't have that sort of money. I've seen his books. All his money is tied up in his business. He doesn't have that kind of cash just lying around."
I watch her closely— the fear and confusion written all over her face verify my previous suspicions that she doesn't know a damned thing of what her father was really doing. "Ezra, your father isn't just a successful businessman in construction. He is involved in some dark shit. That's just a front, a way to launder the money he makes by trafficking drugs and weapons. He's even involved in the organ trade. They abduct children, steal their organs, and sell them on the black market. That's where he makes his millions, and he's definitely worth more than what's showing on those papers."
Ezra shakes her head, and she shoots up from her seat, glowering at me. "You're insane. My father would never do something like that. Drugs? Stealing and selling organs?" Ezra laughs bitterly and paces back and forth. "My father is an esteemed businessman. He has worked his ass off for years to be successful. He has firms all around the world. No, someone is clearly trying to tarnish his reputation by throwing around these accusations. There's no way."
I set my glass down and stand. I pick up the file and flick through it till I find the photo and paper I was looking for. "Here. Take a look at these." I hold out the image and documents to her, and she takes it and looks at the picture. "That man, your father, is talking to in that photo is Jian Lorenzi. He's part of the biggest drug trafficking organization in the world. Drugs, weapon trafficking, murder, bribery, the list goes on and on. What connection would your father have with someone like that?"
She looks at me and blinks, "And, of course, let's not forget..." I pull out the second photo and hand it to her.
"Calum."
Ezra stares at the photo in her hand and shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as the realization and the truth stares her right back in the face. "Your father's right-hand man. Your future husband, and the one he will hand over the reins to when he retires. You are the only rightful heir he has. Why do you think he is forcing you to marry Calum, Ezra? Think about it logically. He doesn't want you to find out what he's been up to, and Calum will take over once he retires. That way, you're protected so long as you remain in the dark." I explain, and she sinks onto the sofa and stares at the file.
"This is absurd. I can’t believe this is happening. My father, who I grew up idolizing, has a whole other secret life that we don’t even know about. How could he do something like this." Ezra mutters, stunned, while she glowers at the ground. I sigh, rubbing my forehead. I need another drink. I stand and walk over to the bar, pick up a fresh glass and the bottle of scotch, and go back to the sofa.
"Money, power, and control. That’s what drives fuckers like your father, Ezra. The more power they get, the greater the hunger. Hugo has evidently screwed someone over somewhere, and they’re now out to settle, and what better way to hit him where it hurts than to threaten the life of his precious little princess." I pour the scotch into the glass and hand her one, which she takes and knocks it back almost immediately, shuddering and wincing at the after taste. I smirk as she holds out the glass for another hit.
"I’m not a fucking princess." Ezra coughs, and I stop mid-pour and look at her, surprised.
Did she just curse? I didn't just imagine that, right? "What?" She utters when she saw I was gaping at her, somewhat amused.
"I don't think I've heard you curse once. I didn't think you were capable of expressing such language." I smirk, and she averts her eyes and snatches the glass from me, and tosses it back again.
"I just found out my father is a goddamn drug lord, and my entire life is in shambles. I think I'm entitled to drop a couple of f-bombs." I couldn't contain the smile, and she notices too and flushes. Once she recovers, she gazes into her empty glass and chews her lip nervously. "What will you do with me if he doesn't pay the client?"
I lace my fingers together and fix her with a steely look. "I'll have to terminate the contract."
"Which means..."
"I will have to kill you."
Ezra stares at me with those cerulean eyes swimming in tears. "How did you know about my father forcing me to marry Calum?"
"I had my suspicions.” Ezra watches me closely. “Calum sent you a text message, and your father announced it this morning. Your wedding is in three weeks. Congratulations." I tell her and hand over her cellphone. She takes it from me, and I see her eyes darting across the screen as she reads.
"Upper east sides sweethearts, Ezra Quintero and Calum Sinclair to wed July twenty third. The glamourous wedding is due to take place in The Hamptons." Ezra swipes away her tears using the back of her hand.
"I didn't understand it before— why he was so adamant on Calum and I getting married. I just assumed it was because he thought I couldn't handle running his company, or it was a power play—a smart business decision to have two wealthy families come together. But it was all a goddamn front. He's been manipulating me, lying about it being for my best interest when all the while he planned to keep his dirty little secret under wraps. That’s why he paid Xavi to walk away from me. So I would be forced to marry Calum and go along with his plan." I take the cellphone from her hand, and she watches me as I walk over to the fireplace and toss it into the fire. "Hey, what did you do that for? That's my damn phone!"
I turn and face her. "Yes, and I'm sure Daddy dearest is already tracking your phone trying to find you. We wouldn't want anyone to find us now, would we? Get up." I walk over to her, and she frowns.
"What? why?" I grasp her arm and pull her up to her feet, and she whimpers and struggles against me. "What are you doing? Ow! Damien, goddamn it, you're hurting my arm."
"Move." Ezra looks up at me and blinks. "We have something to do."
"What?" I ignore her. "What are you going to do, Damien?"
With a drawn-out sigh, I reach over and pick up my gun, slide the safety off, and press the gun to her jaw. Ezra stills, and her eyes go wide as she peers up at me, apprehensive. "You talk too damn much. You're beginning to annoy me." I hiss darkly, and she glares up at me. "Now move." We make our way upstairs again to the guest bedroom. I push her inside and let go of her arm. Ezra stumbles in and rubs her arm, wincing as she watches me closely as if trying to anticipate my next move. "Take your clothes off." She blanches visibly and swallows hard, her chest rising and falling quickly.
"What?”
"Did I stutter?" I question, and she shakes her head quickly. "Take your clothes off, Ezra. Don't make me ask you again." We stare at each other, and she doesn't move, so I walk over to her. Ezra’s shoulder is pressed against my chest as I lean in closer.
“Damien, please.”
Ezra quivers when my lips brush against her ear when I speak quietly but firmly, “I don’t fuck without consent, pretty girl.” I trail my finger up the length of her blouse and hook my index and middle finger at the top button. I yank my fingers down, and the buttons tear-off flying all over the floor. Ezra gasps sharply, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling quickly. She takes a step away from me, but I reach up, grab her by the throat, and draw her back. “I’m not going to hurt you. Strip…now,” I growl threateningly in her ear, my fingers tightening around her throat.
Ezra closes her eyes as she slides the blouse off her shoulders, and its pools around her feet. I step back and watch as her fingers move to the button of her jeans. She hesitantly unbuttons them, lifting her eyes to look at me, silently pleading with me to show her mercy. I sigh, growing agitated. I slide the barrel back on my viper and take a step toward her again. "Get on with it." Ezra winces and slowly glides the jeans down her perfectly sculpted legs. Goddamn, she's a sight for sore eyes. There she stood before me in only a pair of white matching lace underwear I had picked out for her. It pleased me that it fit her perfectly. I let my eyes roam over her perfect body. "All of it, Ezra," I command, and she shakes her head.
"Damien, what are you going to do with me?"
"I'm losing my patience, Ezra. Do. It." I warn, and she reaches up and pulls the straps to her bra down her arms and reaches back, she unclips, and the bra slides off, leaving her breasts bare, and my God, what a beautiful pair they are. Perfect C-cups with light pink areolas, her nipples perky and hardened. Fuck. The urge to suck and feel them between my teeth while she moans and screams was undeniable. Ezra flushes under my heated gaze and lowers her eyes to the floor as she slid her fingers into her panties and glides them down her legs. I inhaled a deep breath as I stood still watching her, so beautiful, pure, and untouched. If it weren't for the fear in her eyes, it would have been tough not to surrender to my animalistic urges and give her what she had initially come here for. However, I had to focus and keep the beast within me under control. She's simply divine. Ezra lifts her arms and shields her breasts and pussy from my prying eyes.
I walk over to her, and slide the safety on my gun and tuck it in the hem of my jeans. Ezra flinches as I near her, her chest rising and falling quicker with every desperate breath she took. I lift my hand and take hold of her chin and lift her head. Her ocean-blue eyes still cast down, ashamed of her own skin. "Look at me, Ezra." On my order, her eyes lift and lock with mine. All I see is her apprehension and insecurities lurking behind those cobalt eyes. I can feel her trembling, her body wracked with fear and the uncertainty of what I will do to her.
I stare into her eyes, and she stares back. “Drop your arms.” Ezra’s brows twitch and draw together before she lets her arms fall to her sides. “Do you trust me when I say I won’t touch you without your permission?” I patiently wait for her to answer; her eyes search mine for a long moment before she nods slowly. I tilt her head up and gaze down into her eyes. "Get on the bed, lay flat on your back, and do not move. Do you understand me?" Ezra gulps, nodding slowly, and I watch as she backs up toward the bed and lays flat on her back. "Good girl. Don't move." I walk out of the bedroom and walk down the hall to my own bedroom. I open the drawer by the bedside table and pull out the silk ties and blindfold.
This ought to get Hugo's attention. I walk back into the bedroom and see Ezra on the bed as I left her. She watches me as I approach her, and her eyes widen when she sees the ties and blindfold in my hand, and she tries to crawl further up the bed, her back pressed against the headboard. "Damien..." She utters warily. I crawl up on the bed, grab her ankle, and yank her toward me and straddle her.
"Lift your arms up over your head." She shakes her head and struggles to try to hit me, so I grab her arms and forcefully lift them over her head. I wrap the silk ties around her wrists tight and hear her hiss in response. I smirk and tie a knot and check to see if it's secure. Ezra tries to move her wrists, tugging on her restraints. I lean down close to her face, gazing into her beautiful eyes—she stills and looks up at me wide-eyed. I brush her hair out of her face, "Stop struggling. Be a good girl, and this will be over quickly." I smirk down at her. “If you behave, I might even reward you,” I tell her, and she blinks up at me.
"What?" I raise her head and tie the blindfold over her eyes. “Reward me how? Damien?” I stand up and move over to the foot of the bed and look her over. Exquisite. I pull out my cellphone from my pocket and launch the camera. I’ll blur out her breasts and pussy before I send it over to James. Like fuck I’ll allow indecent images of her in a state of vulnerability to circulate about freely.
Just the thought of the client’s having these pictures is stirring a rage in me. I push aside my annoyance and snap a couple of photos of her.
That should suffice. I highly doubt Hugo would want indecent nude pictures of his innocent baby girl all over the internet. It was crude, and I wouldn't say I liked exploiting her like this, but you need to do what the job requires, and this was a far better option than her being killed.
I wonder briefly how far she's gone with her past boyfriends. I did promise her a reward. I could give her a little something to sweeten the deal if she agrees. I'm intrigued to see how her body will react to my touch and if last night was anything to go by, she's clearly deprived and in need of some sexual awakening.
And let's face it, she did choose me for a reason.