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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kace Hollander's POV
I wasn't lying when I told Callero that she was lucky the sirens came to her rescue. God knows I could have killed her right then a there. So why didn't I? That's the question I'm currently wondering.
Maybe it's because I wanted to make her death worth lasting, or maybe it's because I didn't want to waste such an important kill in a moment of rush. Either way, she is still alive and breathing, and I'll be sure to end that soon.
Callero is the type of person that strives off of torture. She's sadistic, playful even, especially when she's sinking her dagger into her victims' skin. She doesn't care how unnecessary her methods are; it's clear that torture is her favorite sense of relief.
I, on the other hand, am not the type of person to take entertainment in one's pain. With no remorse, I torture only who I need to. But besides that, I'm rather efficient in my killing. I know one simple bullet between the eyes is enough to do the job, no additional measures needed or time to be wasted. I can go through lines of people and cold-heartedly shoot them in the head without a second thought or glance. Callero, though, wouldn't be able to resist herself from looking at each and every one of them directly in the eyes as she kindly drives a stake through them. My methods are more convenient, meaning I've probably killed thousands more than she has.
It's as if we're quality versus quantity. Her desire to make sure every kill stays long and painful, versus my desire to simple achieve as many kills as I can. Her need to remember and signify her every kill, versus my complete lack of care. She feels when she kills, that feeling being euphoric to her. I don't feel when I kill, I simply don't care.
But despite everything I've said. Callero is going to be the only exception to my careless killing. I want to care when I kill her. I want to feel that same euphoric sense of joy when she kills as I torture her to pieces. She should feel honored, if anything, that she will be my only kill that I will feel pure pleasure while doing so.
Being two children of criminal mafia leader, both Callero and I went by different last names in high school. My first time finding out that she was a Callero was five years ago during a shipment that my Americans fought over against the Italians.
I'll always remember that moment of realization as I saw her on the battle field, viscously fighting seven of my strongest men at a time and leaving them all unconscious. I'll always remember the moment she turned around to see me staring and her with shock and anger.
Callero was never one to let her emotions bleed through her appearance, yet I still saw the visible look of horror on her face as she saw me there, even if it was only for a millisecond.
Not even a moment later was when we both drew out our guns and pointed them towards each other. Silently, low glaringly, intense eye contact that screamed the words we couldn't say out loud.
