The Highest Bidder

❊ Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Tᴡᴇɴᴛʏ﹣Sɪx ❊

Dimples appeared in his cheeks as he grinned down at me, and that damn smile wasn't helping me figure out how to respond. All I could think about was the fact that I should have gotten some lingerie at the mall. Then I mentally hit myself because that meant I was considering having sex with Enzo.

He glanced down the hall before pushing me inside my room and shutting the door. As if I wasn't already hot enough as it was, the sudden closeness, added with the darkness of the room, caused another wave of heat to wash through my body. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous. It wasn't like I hadn't thought about doing things with him since I started working for him.

I tore my gaze away from him and cleared my throat. "Is it hot in here?"

He chuckled. "No, Eva. It's not. Why? Do you feel warm?"

"Obviously." I took a step away from him, fanning myself with my hand.

"I'm not going to force you into bed, if that's what you're worried about." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Actually, I won't force you to do anything. I have plenty of self-control."

"Pity," I mumbled. My eyes widened and I shot a look at him, seeing if he heard.

He did.

He bit his bottom lip and looked away from me. I saw his hands tighten into fists inside of his pockets. "I should leave."

I only stood in place, watching him as he battled emotions within himself. When he didn't move, I knew he was waiting for my agreement. And when I didn't give him one, he tilted his head and glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

He did need to leave. He needed to leave right then and there. But for some reason, I couldn't tell him to go. I was fighting the urge to go to him, the growing attraction for him hitting a new height, knowing that in some way or another he wanted me. Normally, I would have been pissed that a man so blatantly told me that he wanted me for sex. The way he said it was different somehow. But...I did have morals.

I clenched my teeth and turned away from him. "You probably should."

A part of me wanted him in that way. Then there was the other part that was afraid of getting involved, even sexually, with another man. My mind reeled with images of my ex, loving and kind at first. Hell, he was even nice when he found out that I was pregnant with his baby. Then all of a sudden, he was sneering at me, telling me that he was glad I lost the baby. That he was glad that he didn't have to stay with me for longer than he already had.

When he didn't move to leave, I turned. "I know your life."

"You don't like my life," he countered, knowing exactly where I was going with that statement.

I shook my head. "You haven't given me time to get used to it."

"Eva, you don't have to try to get used to it." He sighed. "You don't have to like what I do for a living. You don't have to understand why I do what I do. I've told you, it's for the government. I'm not some vigilante going around killing people who I believe are threats. I don't send my men out to kill just for the hell of it. They're orders from the government that I relay to my employees. I do what I have to do to keep them safe and they do what they have to do to keep their jobs. I do, however, go into the field when necessary. I told you that I haven't killed for eight years. That's true. But I do other things. You have to understand that you don't know half of my job. If you want to know, I'll tell you. But I can guarantee that you'll hate me after you know. Either that, or you'll be afraid of me. Maybe both."

My stomach churned at the implications. What did he do? I wanted to know. I didn't want to know. I wanted to keep him the way I saw him in my mind - kind and hardworking. He tried his hardest to be the best he could be, even going as far as trying to please his unpleasable father.

"Tell me," I found myself saying.

He motioned for me to sit down. I did as I was told and sat on the edge of my bed facing him. He stood before me, looking down into my eyes as if it was the last time he'd be able to do it. That only made the fear skyrocket. I was sweating and my hands were clammy.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I became the boss because I'm good at what I do. I'm a professional killer, even though I don't do it anymore. I could kill a person without them getting a word in edgewise. I still train like I'm supposed to go out to the fields to kill because I don't know when I'll be forced into a job that my employees can't handle. But just because I don't kill, doesn't mean that I don't do things."

He paused. I wondered if it was for effect or if he wanted me to stop him. I couldn't find my voice to stop him, even though I wanted him to. All I could think about was the fact that he could reach over and snap my neck without me even having the chance to try and get away from him. Then I thought about how many people he had to kill to rise to be a boss in such a short amount of time.

"I'm also an interrogator," he continued, believing that I wanted him to. "I can either talk people into telling me what I want to know or I can torture it out of them."

I flinched.

He smiled slightly. "I can brainwash a person within twenty-four hours."

He needed to stop. He really, seriously, needed to stop. I couldn't help the way my body leaned away from him slightly, trying to get away from the man who looked so much like a gentleman but was a monster in sheep's clothing. It didn't matter if it was for the government or not.

When I only stared at him, wide-eyed, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the left. "I can also read body language better than anyone in my profession. Although, you don't make it difficult."

I would have rathered him be a man whore. I would have rathered him sell himself for sex than do any of that. But, although his profession scared me, when he knelt down in front of me, I didn't move away from him.

He stared up into my eyes. "But even knowing all of that, you have to know that I would never intentionally hurt you. I will not torture you, nor will I brainwash you. My contract with the government is up in five years and I have no intention of signing another."

Somehow I knew he wouldn't hurt me. At least, not intentionally. His readiness to admit his profession caused me to wonder if he needed someone to talk to about it. Maybe it was eating away at him, just like everything else seemed to be. When I first met him, I noticed the way he never really smiled. It seemed as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

And maybe it was.

I bit my lip. There was a battle going on in my head. One side was telling me to stay as far away from him as I could, because he's been known to lie before. The other side was telling me to trust him. He had been nothing but truthful with me, as far as I knew. I still saw him as a monster in sheep's clothing. There was no hiding that. And it would take a while for me to get completely used to it - if I could at all.

But for some reason, I think he was looking for someone to confide in. Someone to be able to speak with when his job was becoming too much. And if I was wrong for trusting him, then I'd learn from that mistake.

I reached out and wrapped my arms around him. He tensed under my touch, just like the first time I hugged him.

"I believe you," I mumbled into his hair.

He raised his head, forcing me to pull away. His eyes met mine, wide and confused, searching me and my expression to see if I was lying to him.

I gave him a timid smile. "Just know...if you hurt me in any way...I will hurt you right back."

He laughed outright, the sound of it echoing throughout the room. "I wouldn't want it any other way, Eva."