Dressed in nothing but black and melancholy, I made my way inside Lucid Haven. It's an exclusive club for elites, rich people. The interior itself screamed of luxury. The crowd was crazy loud, people were surrounded by dazzling disco lights and white smoke. There's a dance floor in the middle filled with dancing sweaty bodies; the smell of alcohol and cigars reeked in the air.
With my ankle boots clicking heavily on the tiles, I went up the second floor where the VIP and VVIP rooms are located. I walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a door that was painted in black and had these gold details on it. I took the bubble gum I had been chewing out of my mouth and stuck it at the expensive wall. A silly smile stretched my lips.
Without hesitation, I turned the door knob and opened the door slowly. The room looked really expensive from the velvet sofa to the hanging glass chandelier.
“Well, damn,” I whispered to myself. My ankle boots made noises on the carpeted floor.
I looked around the room and saw an oval mirror studded with gems. There I saw my own reflection, a pair of ash grays looking back at me. I fixed a strand of my hair that was poking my eye and grimaced to myself. My hair is getting a bit longer. Despite it sitting just below my neck and a little below the chin, I can’t seem to ignore that it grew two inches already. Perhaps, I should cut it short again. It just feels uncomfortable to maintain long hair so I kept it short ever since I joined the agency.
I smiled upon noticing the two people talking beside the bed. I narrowed my eyes at my supposed target: Ricki Douglas. My mission stated clearly to kill this old man painfully. Oh, well that is no problem for me. All of my targets were murdered excruciatingly anyway.
The bulky man next to Ricki Douglas stood alert, “What are you doing here? This is a private room,” He said sternly. It must be one of Douglas' bodyguards.
“That’s really the least of your concern tonight,” I walked towards the glass table and touched the expensive-looking porcelain vase. I looked over at Ricki Douglas and sneered at him. Little did the old man know, he'll be dead by tonight.
The bodyguard seemed annoyed with my response as he grimaced and inhaled sharply.
“Didn’t you hear me? This is a private room and my boss didn’t order a whore tonight.” The tone of his voice raised.
“But you’re pretty and just my type. Why don’t you…” The bodyguard took a step towards me.
I raised my eyebrow at the man before taking out my gun, “Move and I'll blow that thing off,” I pointed the gun at his buddy down there.
“I know I’m pretty but I’m not anyone’s whore.” I smiled in annoyance.
It's a good thing I brought my silencer with me. I can't risk being flashy tonight since this is a rush mission.
The bodyguard looked at my gun in fear. He was about to take his gun out of his back but he wasn’t quick enough. A single shot was enough to stop him from moving. The poor man groaned and fell on the floor holding his crotch.
I watched the man scream painfully. His voice was the only thing that could be heard inside the room. That must have hurt really bad. Seconds later, there was already a pool of blood on the carpet and he stopped from moving. I looked at the dead body lying on the carpeted floor. Pity evident in my eyes and at the same time, satisfaction.
“You're crazy!” Said the old man, a trace of fear on his face.
My face darkened at what Ricki said. The furrowing of my brows and my pressed lips clearly shows how I didn’t like it when people say that and he must’ve seen it too.
Slowly, the corner of my lips rose, “Of course not,” But you could tell from the way my gaze bore at the old man, I didn’t like being called crazy. Maybe because it’s true.
“Let's just get this over with,” I clenched my teeth, pissed.
In one swift move, the muzzle is now aimed at the old man's chest. Ricki stood frozen, his eyes widened and he panically raised both his hands in the air.
“Please don't shoot me. I'll do anything please! I can give you money. Yes, money. There in the suitcase. I have tons of cash with me. Take it! Please don't shoot,” The old man begged, pointing at the small table next to the king-sized bed. I raised a brow as my gaze landed at the table. There was a black suitcase there. Hm, he wasn't lying though.
“Sure, if you insist. I'm taking the case then,” I smiled widely but people must know it was a fake smile. I really like playing with my toys.
“You won't kill me now right?” Relief appeared slowly in the old man's eyes. What a clueless man he is.
A dry laughter echoed inside the dimly lit room, it was coming from my parted lips. Only the moonlight from the window served as the light in the room. The old man cannot possibly see my features clearly.
I tossed a spare gun towards the bed beside the old man.
“Use the gun and shoot yourself. Let's see if the boss is good at taking orders. This is what you do right? Giving out orders and shits to your druggies,” My crimson red lips stretched into a devilish smile.
Douglas darted glares at my direction even though he couldn't see a face. I can only smile playfully while staring at my toy for the night.
“Do it fast. The time's ticking,” I roared, and chuckled as I playfully tapped my wrist.
The old man remained silent as he looked at the gun beside him in hesitance. Fear corrupted his system evidently due to the bullets of sweat on his wrinkled face.
I rolled my eyes. “Do I need to count to three?”
I turned to take a look outside the large window when I heard a couple of dudes roaring their motorcycles to life. Lucid Haven was packed tonight. Too bad the club might be closing for a while seeing to it they will find two dead bodies in one of their rooms.
The old man snatched the gun and pointed it to me by the curtains. The gun clicked but no bullets came to shoot.
I secretly smiled to myself. “Oh no, did I forget to load the gun?”
I pursed my lips. I turned around to face Ricki Douglas. The latter stared at me with fear in his eyes, his hands were shaking as his gaze fell to the floor.
“Turns out you aren't good at taking orders after all,” I pointed my gun at him.
The sound of bullets darting towards the man's flesh felt good in my ears. I fired several bullets before finally stopping. I left the room with a smirk on my lips.
I dialled her number and waited, “I'm done here.”
“Excellent job as always, Azalia,”
-
Meanwhile, Zakael Dela Priego and his friends were having a good time at Lucid Haven. It was Zakael’s birthday and there was no way his friends would let him get away without him spending money and buy them a few drinks.
Zakael shook his head, “I'm not drunk. Just tipsy,” He was talking to himself or perhaps towards the half-empty glass of beer in front of him.
“I'm supposed to be in my bed, sleeping peacefully,” Dominic crossed his arms while watching his idiotic friends getting wasted.
“See, you practically have no life. Live a little, man!” Rico said with a smile and knocked over the bottle of Jack Daniels he had stolen from Rion's cellar. Rion is a close friend who owns the club.
“If living a little means getting a massive hangover the next morning, then my answer is no. I still have work tomorrow,” Dominic sighed, popping a fry inside his mouth.
“Take a day off, dude. You're working too hard. Here, have a drink,” Rico handed Dominic the bottle of Jack Daniels.
“I don’t want to drink,” Dominic glared at Rico.
Zakael remained silent, unbothered by the two bickering. His gaze roamed around the club. He spotted a woman not far away from their table. Her sleek black hair was cut short, it reached her jaw. Damn, those curves are dangerous. She was wearing a black leather jacket paired with a black skinny jeans, not much skin was exposed. She was also carrying a briefcase.
He saw the woman take a shot glass from the waiter who was passing by and she gulped it down straight. The woman then handed the empty glass to the bouncer before exiting.
Zakael was slightly drunk as he tried to stand up from his seat.
“Hey, where are you going?” Dominic asked, eyeing his friend with knitted brows.
He ignored Dominic and walked out of the club. Once he stepped outside Lucid Haven, he looked around the parking lot to find someone. The corner of his lips curved up when he spotted what he’s looking for, whom rather. It was the woman he saw a while ago inside the club, the one with the short hair carrying a black briefcase.
“Hey!” Zakael called her out but the lady kept walking away.
Zakael frowned and ran towards her until he bumped onto her back.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Azalia turned around and glared at the man who bumped her like a freaking bull.
This woman cursed like a sailor.
I quickly walked away from the parking lot of the bar. My boots clicked on the ground as I strode. I need to get the hell out of this place. It will only take minutes before someone finds the dead bodies and then the police will arrive any moment soon. It's a good thing I brought a silencer. That way, I can buy myself more time to escape. “Hey, stop!” The man kept yelling as he followed me. This man can seriously be the reason if I get caught tonight. I will be damned at how loud his mouth is. I bit my lip when I realized this man still hadn't left me. My brows furrowed, and I let out a frustrated sigh. This is freaking annoying! I am not really much of a patient person, and I get irritated easily. “Leave me alone,” I said through gritted teeth, my fist balled. “Sorry, cupcake. I can't do that,” The man clicked his tongue and winked at me. Luckily, it's dark on this part of the street, so no one can really see if I shoot the man here. Is he drunk? Of course, he is. Otherwise, he w
It had been three years since I got back to New York City. I entered my apartment and immediately took a shower, sliding into the tub and staring at the bathroom wall in front of me. A sigh escaped my lips. I was tired, but I couldn't close my eyes; otherwise, I would fall asleep in the bathroom. I had just returned from Russia a few weeks ago. I was there for two years to finish a very important mission. God, it was exhausting. I had killed a whole bunch of people. Bad people. Smugglers. I did one year of planning and studying them. Then execution came after, and of course, I wasn't alone. The agency wouldn't let me execute alone because they feared I would go bonkers again. So, I was accompanied by another agent. It was tough because they had really good security in Russia. Not to mention the weapons. After washing up, I walked to my wardrobe and pulled out an oversized shirt and underwear. I had lived alone my entire life in different houses and apartments. I was used to being alo
“Hey, Ruby,” I smiled, looking over at Ciara, who was sitting across from me. Ciara smiled and kept mouthing something. I furrowed my brows at her, and when I finally understood, I put the call on speaker. “Where the hell is Ciara?” Ruby’s voice boomed, angrily. I looked at the frowning Ciara. Ciara shook her head and raised her arms to form a cross sign to me. “Uh, how would I know? She hasn’t been replying to my texts. She’s probably out day drinking again, why do you ask?” I glared at Ciara and gestured for her to stop with the sign languages, so she stayed still and listened to the conversation. “I kept calling her, but she wasn’t responding. That brat kept delaying the mission I gave her, saying she couldn’t because it involved her ex—what is that rat’s name again? James? John?” “It’s Jordan! God!” Ciara covered her mouth as soon as she realized she just busted the cover, and now she got caught. “Ciara! Answer your damn phone, you little—” The call ended abruptly when Ciara
A smirk stretched my lips as I stared at the screen of my TV. I was sitting on the couch comfortably with my feet placed on the center table; a bowl of fries lay flat on my stomach. I was hired yesterday, and now I am already a bartender at Clementine. Who thought it would be that easy to get into Clementine? “Shit,” I mumbled a curse underneath my breath when I glanced over at the clock just above my TV. I have to get ready. It's already five-thirty in the afternoon, and Clementine will get busy at six, which is my working hour up until midnight. I got up and entered the bathroom with a towel on my shoulder. I took a quick bath and wore a black halter crop top and a leather jacket, paired with my usual denim jeans. I combed my short hair with my fingers and wore strapped sandals. It was a casual outfit that Ciara probably wouldn’t wear to a club. Well, I will show up as the bartender anyway, not some customer. It's not like I’m going there to party, so I kept it casual and simple.
The moment our eyes met, something invaded my system like wildfire. Zakael sat a few meters away with his fingers playing with the tip of his half-empty glass. He wore a white dress shirt again, like the last time. The expensive-looking watch was hit by the disco lights, and the brown eyes I once remembered glistened. His face was illuminated, and there, I remembered fully; the drunk man from the bar.The corner of his lips rose once he held my fiery gaze. It was an inevitable spark he thought he could handle the moment he saw my face, and heard the sharpness in my words; the strings of curses that fell from my lips without hesitance he wanted to hear again.I averted my gaze from the stranger, my fingers slid in my pocket to fetch my phone. My brows furrowed when I found myself nervously biting the inside of my cheeks. It’s not like me to feel nervous around people, much more towards men. Once I got a hold of my phone, I glanced at the screen to check the time. Where the hell is Rion?
The sound of my fist walloping the punching bag was pleasing to my ears. The gym was empty today. I woke up early and went straight to the agency. I decided to go to the gym, and lucky me, no one else was there that early. The building has two gyms: The underground gym for the high-ranking agents, the oldest training room since the agency was built. Yes, you can say that we agents are spoiled; we have our own dormitories, restaurant, spa, gym, and many more. The building is literally our home. Then, there’s also the public gym on the second floor for the other agents, the largest gym that is usually packed. “Davis,” A calm, feminine voice echoed inside the room. I stopped and caught the punching bag to stop it from moving. Panting, I reached for the towel on the bench and wiped the beads of sweat on my neck. “Ruby,” I smirked as my eyes scanned the older lady’s figure. Ruby was tall and tanned, wearing a beige jumpsuit that suited her physique. She's that rich, cool, and sexy aunt
As soon as I reached my apartment, I got out with the folder on my side. Popping the keys in the knob of my apartment, the door opened with a faint creak. I slid onto my slippers and went over to the kitchen for a cold drink. I placed the black folder on the countertop before opening my fridge to fetch a glass of water. I drank from the glass and glanced down at the sealed folder. Upon opening it and turning the pages, I furrowed my brows when I saw the ID picture attached to the paper. “Zakael Dela Priego,” I read the name of my supposed client. I couldn't believe it's him. Is Aunt Ruby playing with me? Is this what she meant by “He's a hottie?” I scanned the papers and saw his address and all the important information about the man. Zakael Dela Priego will soon be handling their family business, the Dela Priego Real Estate. He is now working alongside his father, the current President of DPRE. Zakael also owns his own restaurant. I couldn’t help but raise a brow, “So, he’s a bus
The moment I left my client’s mansion, I got in my car and drove straight to Clementine. I got inside the club with a frown on my face upon seeing Wendy waving her hand towards me. Wendy was gesturing to me that I must go behind the counter now. Right, I have to work. I looked around the whole club, but there was not a shadow of Zakael Dela Priego. His father told me Zakael might be at Clementine though. I waited behind the counter as I worked, glancing at the people entering the club from time to time. Where the hell is he? “One Margarita, please.” My head shot up as soon as I heard the familiar voice. The frown was then replaced with a wide grin as I glanced at the face of a friend, it was none other than Miguela Rossi. “Migs.” “Zally,” Miguela said, a smile playing on her lips. I couldn’t help but smile at the nickname Miguela created for me. It’s cringey, but I have grown used to it. “Still alive, huh?” I asked jokingly. I grabbed a cocktail glass and started making Miguela
“What a beautiful dripping mess you are, Azalia.”A warm exhale fanned my neck, a trail of scorching kisses from Zakael followed afterwards. His head was buried on the crook of my neck as he rubbed my wetness. The wet damp of his lips on my skin was as addicting as feeling blood spatters on cheek. He licked, nipped every inch of my bare neck. I swear I could feel them already bruising.“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, biting my shoulder.Do I? I was too busy being a moaning mess for me to stop him. I was enjoying this as much as he does. Am I seriously considering this?“This isn’t fair.” I murmured, heavy breathing and wet strands sticking all over my face. I gripped onto his arms so hard that my nails clawed his skin. His fingers were perfect, slowly tormenting my sensitive folds. A finger slid inside of me as his thumb rubbed my clit. Heat erupted from my core like fire. I was so close to a release. My desperate cry of pleasure intensified; Zakael knew I was close.I hear Zakae
That night I slept like a baby. I slept better than I had in years. Zakael’s embrace was warm and tight, it almost felt like home. But it was just one night. I doubt there would be another chance of us sleeping together in one bed. I won’t allow it. Today, Zakael is just working from home. Meanwhile, Lewis was nowhere to be found. He mentioned that he’s needed at the agency for last week’s report. Ruby sent me an email of Zakael’s schedule and meetings for this week and the next. His schedule is packed as hell. I wouldn’t last a day in such a tedious job like his. Maybe, I’m just not meant for corporate jobs. I want to be out there more in the field, you know? Like tormenting people… Wrapping the clean robe around my body, I stepped out of the bathroom. But before I could walk all the way to the closet, I noticed a huge box sitting on the edge of my bed. It was a white box with a logo that shimmered in rose gold. It was a designer brand and I know an expensive designer when I see on
"Do you understand?" Zakael asked. "Yes." The word escaped my mouth hesitantly. I could not for a second, recognize my own voice. It was the tone of submission; my voice was so soft and dripping with acquiescence. It’s not often you can see Azalia Davis in a state of submission. Zakael stared at every inch of my face; half of my face was darkened with blood and I just hoped it’s dark enough for him to not notice. His thumb ran over my cheek, rubbing off a spatter of blood near my eye. I looked for a single emotion in his eyes… anything. Fear? Concern? Disgust? But I looked and there was none. Zakael looked at me calmly, almost too calm for a normal person. My clothes were soaked with blood that isn’t mine. I know my job is dangerous. It involved hurting and killing people. I could be in danger anytime. It’s a part of our job as agents. Zakael slowly withdrew his hand from my face. "You should wash up and rest." He said softly. "Zakael." I called his name in a soft whisper, almos
"Frank!" My mom cried loudly. A gunshot blew heavily and deafeningly inside a dark room, along with my mom's sobbing. She repeatedly yelled the name of her husband, but my dad wasn’t budging. My dad was dead on the ground, bloody and bruised. It took only one second for that pistol to fire right through my dad’s head. "Frank!" My mom cried my dad’s name as if he would wake up anytime soon. His body was starting to get colder in her arms. The warmth of his skin and the life in his eyes were now slowly fading away. "Mom?" A faint voice echoed inside the living room of our house, and I walked out of my bedroom silently. I looked over to the man who was holding a white handkerchief. It was still fresh in my mind—this memory that would scar me forever. I saw how that man pointed a gun at my dad. How calmly he pulled the trigger, like it was just a normal day at work. Unknowingly, I memorized the face, the gestures, and the physique of my father’s killer. Seeing a loved one die right bef
It was six in the morning when I received a message from Ciara. She wanted to go meet up for coffee. It was a surprise that the lady devil could actually wake up that early for coffee, or was it for gossip? I drove to Ciara’s go-to café, the one near her place and twenty miles from Zakael’s house. How convenient for Ciara, really. Lewis already drove Zakael to work, as I instructed my co-agent because today is going to be a big day. At least for Gaspar Zaragoza. Maybe today is a good day to die? “Bitch, where the hell are you?” Ciara asked on the other line. A loud sound of sipping and shaking ice cubes came seconds after. “I’m already here, C. I’ll hang up now.” I lowered my phone and slid it back into my pocket. The place was almost empty this morning. It’s still early, and most customers were students and a few employees were getting their usual orders. I searched the place and easily found Ciara sitting on the far corner near the glass windows. A smirk graced my lips as I wal
I let out a deep sigh, leaning my elbows over the bar counter, lazily watching people coming inside and out of Clementine. I would usually drop my side jobs as soon as the agency hands me a new mission. Maybe it’s time for me to quit my job as a bartender. The only reason why I took the bartending job is because I liked doing it. However, babysitting a grown ass man can be a little time-consuming. The loud booming music inside the club wasn't enough to interrupt my train of thoughts. It's been days since Ruby handed me the side mission. Gaspar Zaragoza is a lot stupider than I thought for not being able to hide his location. Oh, well, no one can really hide from my badass friend, Deize Smith. The woman can track down anything. However, the bastard’s date of death hasn’t been decided yet. I'm waiting for the right time and the right place. I have to be fast, though; it's not supposed to take more than a week to execute side missions. At least not for the agency’s top agents. “Switch?”
I laughed tiredly after taking a sharp punch from Ciara. We were blowing off some steam today at the agency. The gym clothes we’re wearing are now soaked with sweat. An hour has passed yet we still moved at an incredible speed. Of course, we were trained for this. We're practically savage animals fighting with every ounce of strength we have. Bullets of sweat were dripping off our faces and arms. “You're getting weaker, Az. What happened? Aren’t you getting a little too laid back at your mission now?” Ciara teased. Oh, you didn't just say that. I pushed my body forward and aimed for a punch on her ribs, making Ciara wince in pain. I aimed for another punch, but this time Ciara dodged it pretty quickly. I smirked before going down and sliding my slender legs, hitting Ciara on the ankle with so much force that she stumbled backward. “You bitch,” Ciara muttered, holding back a smile. I laughed at her reaction. Ciara jumped forward, and her leg swung towards me, but I immediately avoi
I crossed my legs and waited in my seat. Sam was busy typing behind the monitor. I'm currently with Sam outside Zakael’s office, and it’s past lunchtime. “Why is the meeting taking so long?” I asked, calmly biting the inside of my cheeks. I may be calm on the outside, but I am one impatient woman. Sam chuckled, “He’ll be out shortly.” “You said that five minutes ago.” “He’ll be out shortly,” Sam repeated, smiling at how impatient I can be. I sighed and slouched in my seat. My gaze shifted to a white folder in my hand. This was the file of those Spaniards who attacked us at Clementine. It was given to me earlier when I dropped by the agency today. I wanted to ask Zakael about the file. Zakael's father, Zacharios Dela Priego, the current President of DPRE, mentioned something about a syndicate group with the name Asparago. That's the only clue the agency got so far. Asparago. Once the door of his office busted open, a tall man walked outside. He had long dark hair. His lips wore
Monday mornings are usually not that busy, especially for me when I’m not assigned for a mission. Usually, the agency gives me execution missions, and not like this one. It’s been a while since I was tasked to be a bodyguard. My usual day would be waking up late and then working as a bartender at night. However, today is different; it is my mission to protect Zakael Dela Priego, the next president of a well-known company running in the city. I had to wake up extra early as it is my client’s schedule to start at six in the morning. This is it. It’s my first day at the company. It’s good that we get to spend the weekend together at home. I thought he’s just like any other billionaire, spoiled and playful, but it turned out there’s more to the man than pride and riches. He can be caring at times, not that I’m complaining. During that short time, I got to know his other sides, and maybe he’s not like most boys I met. I pulled my car outside the house. It is safer to take my car since i