2

I drew the knife back and took a little step back from him to give him room to breathe. I glanced at him and naively tilted my head to examine his motivations. "I'm surprised you don't know; after all, you work for him," I murmured, brushing my fingertips over his lips.

I could tell he was affected by my touch because of the way he shuddered and the tent that grew in his pants. Even though he was on the verge of death, the man wanted to be bedded by the lunatic in front of him.

He glances at me, confused by what I've said. My touch on his lips travelled gently down his chest and onto the increasing tent in his pants; my fingers brushed against it, causing him to gasp and bite his lower lip. "Don't know what?" he asked cautiously.

His eyes pierce into mine with lust and intrigue, and I smile timidly.

"My father doesn't do second chances."

With those words, the blade pierces his heart, and I twist the knife, causing him to gasp and collapse to the ground.

As blood seeps out of his body and through his white shirt, I smile triumphantly. With his eyes open, his body became lifeless.

I gradually stoop down and pull my personalised blade from his chest. The crimson-red blood dripping from the knife's tip prompted me to take out one of the sanitary wipes I had stashed in my handbag. I lean against the wall next to his corpse and wipe the blood from my knife.

"Should have shot him; it would have been cleaner."

My movements came to a halt when I heard the most attractive voice in my whole nineteen years of life.

The male voice was deep, dark, and thickly laced with an Italian accent. It exuded power and confidence, and I couldn't help but wonder who it belonged to.

You may think I'm being ridiculous, but the melody of his voice was so fucking addicting that the few words stated could make any person weak in the knees.

I snapped out of whatever fantasy I was in and returned to reality.

When I turned to see who was speaking, all I saw was a lurking shadow, roughly a silhouette of a tall muscular male.

Even though his features were hidden by the darkness, it was evident that this guy was more than a god in his own right. He appeared to be leaning against the brick wall with a cigarette between his lips and his head tilted up to the sky.

"And, you are?" I ask, my voice soft and inquisitive.

He drew the smoke from his lips and tilted his head down. "I could ask you the same thing," he said coldly, his tone dead, devoid of any form of life. To my ears, it sounded like a symphony.

I shrug. "Well, I guess you'll never find out," I say with a smile.

Then, just when I thought his voice was the best sound to envelop my ears, he let out a deep, melodious chuckle that had demolished the record.

The sound made my thighs clench unintentionally.

Get a grip, Jessica, Christ!!.

I saw the white smoke escape his lips from across the building, and the aroma swept through my nostrils as the wind hit the smoke and carried it towards me.

My phone rang before he could say anything else, interrupting this lovely moment with the mysterious stranger.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed it out of my purse, I answered without glancing at the caller.

"Hello?"

"Is it done, Jess? I'm waiting for you outside the club." On the other side, Warren's voice speaks.

I tell him, "Yeah, it's done; I'll see you in a second," and hang up.

I slide my phone into my purse and tuck my blade back beneath my dress. My gaze is drawn to the intriguing guy standing opposite me.

"Well, I'm leaving now. Maybe I'll see you again soon?" I mention moving away from the wall and onto the pavement.

I observe him dropping the cigarette to the ground, treading on it, and backing away from the wall.

"Maybe." I see him shrug.

I smile and shake my head at his words. I turn around and start walking out of the alleyway. My heels clattered against the pavement as I made my way around to the front of the club.

When I saw my twin brother's black Aston Martin parked on the side of the road, my legs walked in this direction.

I reached the passenger side and opened the door, stepping inside and closing the door beside me.

I sighed and turned to face my twin brother, who was grinning.

"What?" I question, causing him to turn away from me and return his gaze to the road.

"Nothing." I scoff and slump back in my seat. He started the car and began driving away from the club.

"How'd it go with Wayne?"

"The dude didn't even last two seconds without caving in," I shrug as I stare out the window.

As he turns a left corner, Warren laughs, his head shaking with amusement. "Of course, he didn't, pathetic," I agree with him and nod.

"Definitely pathetic," I respond.

Not long after, we returned to our house, which was more like a mansion. I'm not going to lie and pretend I'm not wealthy; I was born into it.

Unlike some other rich snobs at my old high school who didn't even know what the word 'please' meant, my mother made sure that we always had our manners and respect for everyone.

When the guards saw it was Warren and me, they unlocked the gate; we passed through, and he went straight to the underground garage we had.

After parking, we got out of the car and walked silently to the elevators.

"How was last night's training?" I ask; the elevator doors open, and we both enter.

"It was good; Uncle Vincent was there as well." Leaning on the wall, he responds.

"I don't suppose he ever misses a training day with you," I point out, glancing at him.

As the doors open, he chuckles and leans off the wall. We stepped out and went our separate ways, with me headed directly towards the kitchen.

I walked down our long spiral staircase, and when I got to the bottom, I took off my heels since my feet were starting to hurt. I took them in one hand and started walking to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

The lights were already turned on, indicating that someone had already entered the room, and I was correct, as I witnessed the most agonising image through my not-so-naive eyes.

"You have a room; please use it." I sigh, looking away from my two so-called parents, who act as though their two teenage kids are having a full-fledged make-out session in the kitchen.

Mum gasps and breaks free from Dad's grip. From the corner of my eyes, I catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes at her and leaning against the counter.

"Nathan, I told you someone was going to walk in," Mum mumbles, smacking his shoulder.

I smile discreetly as I take the water bottle from the fridge and close it.

Mum approaches me and pulls me into her arms, whispering, "You look hot," and I smile at her words.

I kiss her on the cheek and lean away from her before cracking open the bottle and soothing my thirst.

"How did it go?" From across the kitchen, Dad asked.

I held my thumb up. "It went well; he didn't last long," I said.

He smirked and leaned off the counter, "Knew he wouldn't, weak fucker."

"I didn't even have to fight him off; he just died instantly," I grinned as I walked out of the kitchen.

He shrugs. "Yeah, he was only good with technology," he mumbles before turning to face Mum.

That was my indication to leave and return to my favourite place on the planet, my room.

I walked straight to my room after descending the flight of stairs. I flung my shoes to the side and shut the door behind me once I'd made it in.

I sighed and walked into my built-in bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I adored my room for a variety of reasons, one of which was its size. I had my room with a king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom that was double the size of a regular bathroom.

Warren had a room that was identical to mine but with a darker design.

I strolled up to the mirror and began to undress. The silken, navy blue, short dress I was wearing effortlessly slipped off of my body.

My body was a source of pride for me. I stayed in shape by going to the gym at least once a day to maintain my fitness. My eating habits were fine, but I won't lie and say I don't consume far too many burgers in a week.

My gaze fell to my breasts, which were large, perky, and nicely set up. My gaze shifted from my little waist to my wide hips and thighs. My figure was something I was very proud of, and it was also something that many others admired.

I had mid-length hair that was jet black, identical to my father's, and soft natural curls that I inherited from my mother.

I had two small tattoos, one on my finger and one just under my right breast.

Warren and I had received matching tattoos, and the one on my finger was among them. It wasn't anything significant, but we were both bored and decided to visit a family friend's tattoo studio. Then there's the one under my breast from a drunken dare with one of my best friends, Adele, a year ago.

I also have a nose piercing and a belly piercing, both of which I adore.

I stepped into the steaming shower and let the hot water wash over me. I wash my skin and cleanse it with my regular body butter. After showering, I changed into my matching satin pyjama shorts and a top before slipping into my black satin bedding.

If you hadn't noticed, I had a soft spot for silk.

I shut off the lights and leant back in my bed, allowing my mind to wander off into the unknown.