Flashback Liach's POV ~
"You have to become the perfect daughter." Papa said. His hand grabbing mine wrapping the bandage too tightly around my wrist. I don't say a word. I don't wince. I bear the pain as it crushes my bones
'Pain means nothing if it doesn't serve a purpose.' That was one of Papa's first lessons.
And he taught me, the night I watched him drown my Mama.
At the time I was seven.
She was crying and struggling with Papa in the bathtub, shaking vigorously fighting for her life. But Papa was unmoved by her struggles, he pinned her down pressing her deep into the waters and said, "if you become weak. You die weak, and you die in vain," and pushed her head under.
He made me watch, and when I refused to watch! He asked his guard to hold me in place, forcing my eyes open. And Papa made me count — "Liach my love, you will count as your mother struggles for her life and stop after she dies because if you don't the same fate awaits you." And I counted, I counted as mama struggles, as she gasps for air fighting for her life, whimpering.
"Liach, start counting."
"One. Two. Three… " I counted as the guards held me in place to watch.
She stopped struggling at thirty-eight.
"That's how long it takes to kill love," he said. "Remember that."
I've never forgotten. How would I even forget that. See the women I love drown because of me. Because she's teaching me how to be human, what love is.
Then when I was nine, he gave Alaric—my brother—a gun and told him to kill a man for disloyalty. Alaric cried, because he was scared. So papa slit the man's throat himself, then cut Alaric's ear off as punishment.
"Hesitation is treason," he told me. And shipped Alaric to God knows where, if it's true that he was not killed.
When I was eleven, Mariza fell in love with a rival's son and Papa caught them. He didn't scream or say much. But the consequences were loud.
He made me hold the knife while he skinned the boy, and made Mariza who was tied to a chair, watch every single process of it. Her screams were worse than the boy. Afterwards, Papa shot her away.
But the worst was Lucan.
My twin. The other half of me.
He was soft in ways I wasn't. He smiled a lot, and too much. Asked too many naive questions. And too kind, he wasn't cut out for Papa's kind of life.
The night before his death, after a mission, he came to my room.
"I'm running, lia" he whispered. "Come with me. We can leave this— this hell of a home," He said.
I wanted to. For a breath. I really wanted to. But I couldn't. I didn't say no. I didn't say yes. I just watched him walk away.
And Papa found him before it was even sunrise. He sent for me to come to the basement. And told me Lucan betrayed the family.
Told me I had to prove I wasn't like him.
He handed me a blade. A blade I should use to slit his throat. The very first gift Lucan had given me on my 13th birthday.
"Go on Liach," he said standing behind me with one hand on my shoulder, the other at my back, "slit his throat."
"But Papa, can't you forgive him just this once? I asked, trying to beg for my brother. But what came after was a painful squeeze on my shoulders, one that could snap my very bones into two.
I stared at Lucan, who was staring back at me. I believed he would be scared, or maybe crying in that moment but he was smiling— smiling at me. A reassuring smile, a smile that says; it's okay, it's all going to be okay, just do it.
For the first time, after my Mama's death I felt sick and hurt. I've to kill him. My own brother or will both would die. And I did. I slit my twin brother in the throat, once, then twice more to make sure he didn't feel it.
I remember how warm his blood was on my hands. I remembered papa smiling.
"You're ready now," he said.
I didn't cry. I didn't blink, I felt nothing, it was as if my emotions shut down. I was fifteen.
That night, Gabriel kissed my forehead and said, "You're my legacy, Liach. My masterpiece."
And I believed him.
Even now.
~~ End of Flashback ~~
And today I'm going to kill Sinveer, Who keeps acting like he knows what I came here to do.
Sinveer De Luna's estate lies in shadows and silence. His guards have retreated to their predictable rotations. I slip through their perimeter unnoticed, dressed in black from neck to ankle over a balaclava. My twin blades are sheathed and ready.
My breath is steady. My pulse— not so calm. I have killed under tighter conditions before. But this one... this one knots my gut in ways I can't name. And I hate it.
His bedroom door is unlocked, that should have been my first warning. He's never that careless.
Moonlight spills across the floor in ribbons. The satin sheets are ruffled, the outline of his body framed in silver and shadow.
He's lying in bed, bare-chested, arms behind his head, like he's been waiting. Like he knew I was coming today.
"You're late," he says. His voice is smoke. Smooth, low, and full of dark humor.
I freeze for a moment.Then lunge at him.
The blade in my hand is silent as a breath, but so is he. In one smooth motion, he moves. Catches my wrist, rolls me underneath him. The dagger flies from my grip and skitters across the floor. I'm on my back pinned hard by him.
He straddles me, his thighs caging mine, his hand capturing both of my wrists above my head. The other drags down my side, slow and deliberate.
"Well, well…" he murmurs, eyes scanning the mask. "What's a dangerous little thing like you doing in my bed?"
I snarl, twisting beneath him.
He grins wider, grinding his hips down—and I felt it. His erection. Thick. Hard. Pressing right into me.
"You came all this way for me?" he whispers. "You must've missed me." He said, his fingers slide along my rib cage, teasing me.
This is why I failed last time and now his going too far with it.
"You smell like a secret I've been dying to taste."
I buck up, trying to throw him off. But he only shifts, pressing more of his weight down, pushing his hard cock against me in a way that makes my body betray me.
"Feisty," he purrs. "God, I love that—that you are dangerous."
He didn't even try to pull off the mask. And I'm more terrified than anything, right now.
He touches me like he knows, who I am. Like he knows I'm his Assistant, Liach. He talks like he owns me.
"I've been dreaming of this," he whispers, lips brushing the edge of the mask. "The way you move… the way you breathe…" His hand slides up my thigh, down under the fabric, over my skin.
"I've had you in my head since last time. I thought I was losing my mind." He grinds again. Slow and deep. "Turns out I was just starving."
Why is he doing this? Will he not be better if he torture me to confess, than this. And this fucking heat building within me I don't like it. I hate how my body reacts to his touch.
He leans closer to my face, our eyes looking at each other.
I can't speak right now, because if I don't, he'd recognize my voice. So I adverted my eyes from him, tilting my head to the side, thinking of a possible way out.
Suddenly he grabs my jaw gently, making me face him then kisses me through the veil. His lips are firm and claiming. My stomach heats up from the sudden skin contact. I was shocked, not expecting anything of that sort.
"You want to kill me, or ride me?" he whispers.
"Non," I hissed, my voice low and cracked.
His grin widens. "Now that's not what I like to hear."
His free hand slips under my shirt, dragging the fabric up, baring my stomach to the cool air. His fingertips glide over my skin.
"Let me go! You creep."
" Oh, calm down Babe" his lips in my ears.
Babe? Babe? What nonsense is he spouting.
Then down again—palm flat, sliding between my legs, cupping me through the tight fabric.
"You're soaked," he murmurs. "So much for a, silent killers."
My breath catches in my throat.
His thumb strokes my clit once slowly but deliberately.
"Tell me," he says, "how long have you been thinking about this?" He shifts his hips again, grinding even harder. "I bet you touched yourself after that first attempt," he growls. "I bet you closed your eyes and thought about me pinning you like this."
I jerk under him, furious, aroused, unraveling. "Fuck you," I snap.
"Oh, I plan to," he says, lips against my ear.
"But not tonight."
He kisses down my throat, slowly this time, but with the veil lifted up just above my nose.
His kiss was intense, as if he had been waiting for this. Then down the edges of my neck, sucking on it leaving a mark on it, trailing down to my collarbone.
His teeth graze the base of my neck, and I shiver. My mind is reeling right now, I can't understand what he is doing and why he is doing this.
He lifts my leg with one hand, wraps it around his waist. His cock grinds against my core again, and this time he moans low in his throat.
"You feel so good," he whispers. "You've been haunting me. I think I finally figured out why."
I freeze. Because I felt something, a wave of tiny currents washing over me. I almost moan to his touch. And I hate how much I want him to keep going.
His hand slides under my bra, cupping my breast, and rolls the hardened peak of my nipple between his fingers. And for a moment a moan almost escaped my lips again.
"You like that?" he murmurs. "Does your boss know what a little slut you turn into when you're on top of me?"
The moment I was able to free a hand from his grip, I sent a slap flying to his jaw.
He takes it with a grin and pins my hands harder.
"God, you're perfect," he muttered.
Then he kisses me again. Harder this time and intensely than before.
The mask creases between us but he doesn't care.
He wants me—but only on his terms.
I almost give in.
I almost let him win.
But something in me snaps.
Liach what's wrong with you? Focus.
This isn't why you are here This isn't what's supposed to be happening.
I wrench my hands free, twist, and shove him with all my strength.
He stumbles back. Just for a second and with a stupid smirk on his face.
I'm already off the bed, grabbing my blade, backing toward the window.
He doesn't chase me.
He leans back on the bed, shirtless, arouse his lips swollen. Watching me leaves and smiling.
"You'll come back," he says softly. "You're not done yet."
I leap.