Deadly Temptations

Chapter 1: Let The Fun Begin

Lexa Callero's POV

Walking on these very floors feels all too familiar with the sound of my heels clicking the polished marble and the feeling of my silk burgundy dress being too tight for my own comfort. But if it's what I must do to get the job done, so be it.

Lights are flashing, music is playing, and people are dancing in the grand room. Through a normal person's eyes, this would look like any plain formal gathering. What they wouldn't know is that this very event is filled with some of the most dangerous people in the world. Myself being no exception.

I scan around the spacious room, looking for my target. Jonas Hollander. Perhaps one of the dangerous people I've mentioned earlier, but I'm not afraid.

Minutes pass, still showing no sign of him. I've never met him in person but I have been shown an image. He's decently tall, graying hair, average facial features, contrasting to the prominent and sharp features most Hollanders are known to have, and overall around 50 years old. He shouldn't be too hard to find.

I walk down the room near the bar area, ignoring the stares I get from filthy business men looking down at me like a predator waiting for his pray, and sit myself down. Usually, I'd order a drink, but I know better then to trust the alcohol being served in an event filled with gangsters.

"Could I buy you a drink?" says a low voice behind me. I turn my head around to see non other then the exact man I've been trying to locate. Hello, Jonas.

"If you may," I say with a pristine expression, sounding interested even though I'd rather be anywhere else. The Hollander pulls up a chair, and sets it down just a little too close to me before sitting, his strong nauseating cologne filling my nostrils.

"Jonas Hollander, pleasure to meet you," he says, which of course I already knew, collecting my hand and pulling it up to his lips. Disgusting, truly, but I play along.

"Pleasure's all mine," I whisper, leaning in. "Why don't you say we forget about the drinks and head upstairs?" There's no need for wasteful small talk, nor to extend my stay here longer than I must.

He smirks, and takes my hand as we get up and walk towards the stairs. He makes sure to keep me walking near him, clutching my waist in the process. As much as I hate the physical contact of his bony fingers shadowing my hips, I stand straight and don't let it effect me. Every move he makes gets me more and more excited for what's to come upstairs.

Stepping up and slowly vanishing from the crowed and into the long hall, his arm starts crawling lower and lower on my back. As much as the overwhelming urge to gut him alive spreads throughout me, the gun and knives strapped on my thighs give me a sense of relief that the fun part is soon to come.

We enter one of the oversized bedrooms of the mansion, and he nudges me inside. Right when when I lock the door, I push him deeper in the room and finally drop the facade. The near future flashes so vividly in my mind, I can't help being excited now that I have him in my grasp. It's been so long since I've killed a Hollander.