WARNING: Please, before reading this book, note that it contains: violence, abusive scenes, and mature scenes. "I was supposed to kill you, Cassius," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Do you think you can?" he replied, his gaze piercing. He gently took my hand, the warmth of his touch contrasting sharply with the coldness of the IV drip that fed into my arm. "I would shoot a bullet into your head if..." I started, but before I could finish, he sealed my lips with a kiss—soft yet filled with an urgency that took my breath away. **** Zara Singh, an undercover assassin, receives a contract to seduce and eliminate Cassius DiMarco, the most feared Mafia king who is known for his ruthlessness. But what would happen when she finds herself unexpectedly drawn to Cassius? And what would happen when Zara finds out Cassius had a hand in her parent's death? Would she be able to forgive him? #2
View MoreZara's POV Running. I just felt myself running. No, I was running. But to where? I don't know! The sight I had just seen made me lose my senses. I had seen Cassius write a bold 'M' on an innocent man's head. The bastard had done it without a hint of remorse, then he had shot him right in the forehead. Devil. When I had fled the club, I didn't go back home and had just stood at a corner outside the club. Cassius emerged moments later, cool and collected, entering his car and driving off as if nothing had happened. I quickly hailed a taxi and followed him, my heart racing. He stopped at a warehouse—was that where he killed people? Innocent people? Bastard. Did he derive joy from taking lives? It felt like a game to him. I, on the other hand, only killed bad people out of necessity, and I hated every moment of it. After what felt like hours, I found a perfect spot to peep. I crouched low and watched as Cassius bent over a tied-up man. Another body lay lifeless on the floor. I had h
Cassius's POV ********************************** "Get everyone on the lookout, I would be there in ten minutes." I said into the phone, locking my apartment door behind me. My gaze drifted to Zara’s door across the hallway. Annoying bitch. Her audacity grated on my nerves, but I couldn’t deny that it intrigued me. Most people cowered before me, their fear obvious, but she? She had a fire I couldn’t quite extinguish. "What if they start before you get here?" Shadow’s voice, steady yet urgent, broke through my thoughts. My head of security wasn’t one to panic, but even he knew the stakes tonight were high. "Just wait for me," I replied firmly, heading to the elevator. My tone brooked no argument. "But make sure everyone is safe. No screw-ups." "Understood, sir," Shadow answered. I tapped my AirPods, cutting the call, and stepped into the elevator. Once outside, I waved over one of the guards. He approached swiftly, head bowed in deference. "Take the alternate route to the ba
Zara's POV "What?" I gasped. "I really didn't do anything." "We shall see about that." he said, stood up, hissed, and left for the dining room. Fuck. My body still tingles from his hand on my nipple. Is that how he played with everybody's feelings? Zara, I think you are really the person here playing with someone's feelings. But I haven't even done anything. "Crystal." I heard his voice as I quickly adjusted my top and raced to the dining room. "Am I supposed to serve myself?" I bit my lip and bent over to dish his food as I stood before him as he dipped the fork into the food. "Are you going to stand and look at me?" he asked, and I scoffed and took my seat opposite him. "Are you going to be counting the amount of food I eat, or did you poison it, and you are waiting for me to die?" How I wished I had poisoned it, bastard. I stood up and went to sit in the sitting room. Then, I saw his phone on the table and I looked toward him to see he wasn't looking.Then, a message popped up
Zara's POV I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. Perfect. Handsome bastard, here I come. I packed my luggage, and damn it, they were too heavy. I had crammed in everything I could think of: outfits for every occasion, a few weapons for protection, lingeries. I needed to be prepared. A knock came at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. I opened it to see Xander, giving me that infuriatingly charming old smile of his. "Need some help, kid?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I scoffed, stepping aside to let him in. He grabbed my luggage like they were made of feathers and carried them down to his car. I followed and we got into the car, and he ignited the fire into the engine. As we drove, Xander's expression turned serious. "We got a report that he killed thirteen people yesterday." "What the fuck?!" I screamed, feeling the blood rush from my face. Thirteen! What the actual fuck?! I know I’m not a saint, but that was too much! Like fucking too much! "Are you sure he's rea
Zara's POV 12 YEARS AGO I froze in my place as I looked at the sight ahead of me. My mom and dad were covered in their own blood on the floor, and two men stood over them. One of the men held a glowing iron rod in his hand. They hadn’t seemed to notice me as I quickly hid behind the door, my heart pounding in my chest. "Goodbye," the man holding the iron said, his voice cold and devoid of remorse, as he tore my father’s shirt and pressed the hot iron against my father’s bare chest. A scream erupted from my dad, a sound that pierced through the haze of shock. I gasped, unable to contain my horror. The man's gaze snapped to me, and I could feel the other man moving toward my hiding spot. "Run, Zara," I heard my mom’s weak voice, barely a whisper but filled with urgency. "No, mom!" I cried, tears streaming down my face as i peeped out of my hiding spot. I felt paralyzed, caught in a nightmare that I couldn’t escape. "Zara, please, run... no, hide," she urged, her voice growi
Zara's POV 12 YEARS AGO I froze in my place as I looked at the sight ahead of me. My mom and dad were covered in their own blood on the floor, and two men stood over them. One of the men held a glowing iron rod in his hand. They hadn’t seemed to notice me as I quickly hid behind the door, my heart pounding in my chest. "Goodbye," the man holding the iron said, his voice cold and devoid of remorse, as he tore my father’s shirt and pressed the hot iron against my father’s bare chest. A scream erupted from my dad, a sound that pierced through the haze of shock. I gasped, unable to contain my horror. The man's gaze snapped to me, and I could feel the other man moving toward my hiding spot. "Run, Zara," I heard my mom’s weak voice, barely a whisper but filled with urgency. "No, mom!" I cried, tears streaming down my face as i peeped out of my hiding spot. I felt paralyzed, caught in a nightmare that I couldn’t escape. "Zara, please, run... no, hide," she urged, her voice growi
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