Seduction: a fine art of manipulation and temptation, used to lure your prey. That's how Lexa Callero, the deadly and sadistic first born daughter of the Italian Mafia leader, sees the world. Her prey....
Her enemy, Kace Hollander, the ruthless and...
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Lexa Callero's POV
"That was EXTREMELY sloppy from ALL of you," my father yells out when we all gather round the cars. "I am very disappointed at such job gone wrong. All of you, get in the vans before the cops get to us."
We do what he instructs with no time to waste. We know our boundaries when the cops come. In the car ride, I try not to think of what happened today, knowing that I'm in for a long talk with my father when we get home.
Nevertheless, I'm stuck alone with my thoughts. And of course, they have to be revolving around that one specific person person. Hollander.
Meeting him in high school was everything I never wanted. I was raised to be a mafia lord, any potential distraction can lead to a fatal outcome with a life like mine.
I never in my life dreamed of having a Prince Charming. Instead, my dreams consist of murder, torture, and my legacy. That is the biggest one. Anything that could ever lead me away from the mafia life, I ignored.
We started off as pathetic high school rivals, but not because of our families. We both had no idea that the other came from our greatest family enemies. All he was to me was an obnoxious player who I competed with in school, and to him I was probably just some girl that got on his nerves all the time.
Slowly but surely, hate turned to lust, and that lust was something we both couldn't deny. We still argued all the time, but after each argument came a make out session, and after each make out session came a stay over the night.
We were never official, nor had any real feelings for each other. I guess you could say we were fuck buddies, two horny teenagers who don't have an interest in a relationship. It was as if our release for the anger we had towards each other was our energy in the bed.
The opening of the car door is what snaps my out of my thoughts, realizing that we are already home. I walk inside the base and grab my first aid kit to keep up some of my wounds I've collected from the tonight.
Although wounds don't hurt me, as I've definitely grown used to the pain by now, scarring is not a good look when you are a femme fatale. It'll be harder to lure blind sighted men upstairs with my body, the only thing I'm good for, if it has scars and cuts all over it.
When I finish, I clean up and take a shower before I order my guards to get the names of all the men I've killed tonight. Once they give me the pictures of their faces, I match each one with the knife I used to kill them. I write their names down on the handles, some handles getting than one name. With the kills I used a gun or any different method for, I write their names on the walls instead of a knife.
