Deciding today I need a break from training, I have the genius plan to take Alec to one of my favourite places near my house. Iโm bored and I have no one else to play with, so heโll have to do. I get dressed in a gorgeous aqua blue tropical print, backless, halter-neck dress with a thigh-high slit, slip on some white sandals, and grab a small purse that I tuck my phone and Crimson into. As if Iโd go anywhere without her. I place my purse over my shoulder and walk down to Alecโs room and knock. I knock repeatedly but get no answer, so I open the door and peek my head inside. Heโs there, heโs just out like a light. You'd think being in a house with assassins, one of whom was going to kill him, would make him a light sleeper, but nope. Goes to show how stressed he is I guess. I step into the room, walk over to him, and take a moment to admire him. The sheets are down to his hips exposing his toned olive skin and the tufts of hair covering his muscles. He hasnโt shaved since he started s
Eventually, Alec comes downstairs, his hair looking tussled while heโs dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a basic white T, but the shirt is hugging his frame in all the right ways. Stupid asshole still has my brain fuzzy with sex and now this little trek is going to just increase the ache this jerk has left in my pussy. I fucking hate him. โWhere are we going?โ He asks as he walks over to me. โA spot not far from here. It was meant to be a nice little day trip, but now Iโm considering burying you out in the woods.โ He smirks, โSomeone sounds frustrated.โ โHowโs your dick feeling?โ I smirk back. He shrugs, โIt was worth it. You know I can fix that frustration for you, all you have to do is ask,โ he says with a sly smile. โI have a knife in my purse, and I am very tempted to use it,โ I threaten. He laughs, โYou know Iโm getting pretty good at learning when youโre bluffing,โ he says smugly and that has me coming up short. Who the fuck said anything about bluffing? My fingers inch the
My brain begins to wake up as I feel the edge of my bed dip alerting me to a presence in my room. โI understand you have this well-thought-out intricate plan on how to handle the boy and this Grigoras mess, but does your plan have to involve me babysitting him while youโre off fighting the ultimate battle for survival?โ I hear my grandpa huff. I turn my head away and dive my head under my pillow. What is with the people in this family always disrupting my sleep? โAlina, Iโm speaking to you,โ says grandpa in a hard voice as he pokes me in the back. โAnd Iโm ignoring you. Take the hint,โ I grumble. โIโm trying to speak to you young lady,โ he scolds. โAnd Iโm trying to sleep. What does everyone have against me sleeping?โ I groan. I feel the bed shift as I feel my grandpa lay down beside me. โWith everything you told us, you know they wonโt stop trying to kill you just because youโre in The Tournament,โ my grandpa says gravelly. I sigh. Deciding sleep is futile at this point, I lift
I spent all day getting dressed up for dinner, and I think it was well worth the effort because I look stunning. A dress seemed too expected, so I went for a gorgeous emerald and gold gemstone design full-length pantsuit. It has short sleeves with a plunging neckline and a collar and the sash around the waist really helps to accentuate my figure. I have masterfully accessorised with a gorgeous emerald, peridot and diamond encrusted necklace with matching earrings and have my hair up in a stylish and intricate low bun. Since I was not blessed with height, I paired this with 6โ stilettos that are a beautiful beige to nude ombre and of course, I did my make-up. I wanted the whole look to have a theme so I went with gold lids, a subtle smokey eye with dark green corners and a wing teamed with a simple glossy nude lip. I even had time to do my nails. I keep my nails short for practical reasons, but I still like them to look pretty from time to time, so I painted them a matt emerald green a
I lay on my bed staring up at the chandelier hanging above me as I count each individual crystal. I only manage to make it to twenty or so crystals before I lose count and have to start again. I glance over at the clock by my bed and sigh when I see itโs time. I slowly sit up and take one final look around my room, as this might be the last time I ever see it. As I sit here mentally preparing myself to get up, I canโt help going over the last two weeks in my head and wondering if I used my time wisely. This happens every year. The dreaded time of departure arrives and suddenly every minute before then feels wasted. Like you had the chance to make what could be your final days worth it and you didnโt use them wisely. I know Iโm being silly, itโs just where my mind goes every single time. With a deep breath, I steal my shoulders, get to my feet, and exit my room turning off the light and closing the door behind me, potentially closing the book on my life as I know it. As I make it down
As my brain becomes alert, Iโm aware of the unpleasant pounding in my skull and the disgusting feeling of cottonmouth. I slowly sit up and try to move my tongue around hoping to get some saliva to appear and revive the dry state of my mouth that could give the Sahara a run for its money. While trying to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth I take in the lavish room I have woken up in. Itโs even more exquisite than my room last year. Deep red satin king-size bed with a gold ornate bed frame. Royal blue walls with deeper blue velvet curtains. Opulent seating and an open closet, stunning silver-grey walls with gold detailing that compliment that stunning gold ornamental ceiling with expertly detailed cornices. I guess this is the treatment winners get. Works for me. I notice a glass of water by the bed and two pills, as expected. Same routine every year. Drugs to knock you out and then drugs to help with the after-effects. I quickly down the pills with the water and get up stret
Suddenly the chatter around us becomes silent as the sound of someone tapping against a glass gets our attention. I look towards the staircase to see our host for this shit show. To competitors and guests, he is known only as the Master of Ceremonies. I only became privy to his name โ unsure if itโs real or not โ after my third win. I guess surviving death so many times entitles you to certain benefits, such as being able to address the Master of Ceremonies as Hexton when in private. Though I have no proof, I have a strong suspicion his name really is Hexton. With the money and power at his disposal, I highly doubt he fears any of us coming for him in our off-season. To try would be suicide. Hexton is 6โ2โ looking to be in his late fifties with a deep olive complexion, with a sexy yet diabolical subtle smile permanently plastered on his face. He has thick, but short salt-and-pepper hair with salt-and-pepper stubble. Heโs dressed in a charcoal grey three-piece suit with a black button
I just finished my lunch, and as I place the tray on the bedside table thereโs a knock at the door. I open it to find a box placed in front of my door. Thereโs no note or instructions, so guess they think Iโm seasoned enough to not need it. I take the box inside, place it on the bed and open it to find a full lycra spandex bodysuit with my codename printed on the back. The traditional uniform of The Tournament. Every competitor is required to wear these. We are completely covered from head to toe, concealing our identities from spectators. The only part of us that is visible are our eyes, and thatโs only so we can see what weโre doing. I strip down to my bra and panties, tie my hair up in a bun and slip into the bodysuit. Once I have it pulled over my head, I reach behind me and zip myself in. Iโve considered investing in one of these for some of my jobs, but I just hate the way my head is covered, and I wouldnโt mind a pair of shoes. If youโre not used to it, this can be rather suffo
Elijah and I walk down the street arm and arm as I shove a very delicious mango mochi in my mouth. I glance to my right to see Elijah looking at me with shock on his face. โWhat?โ I ask with a mouth full of mochi. โDid you just eat the last mochi?โ I swallow whatโs in my mouth and smile at him, โYup.โ โI canโt believe you,โ he says, shaking his head. โHey, you drank the last of my vegetable juice this morning,โ I remind him. โTouchรฉ,โ he concedes. We continue to walk for another block, just enjoying the nice evening air. The streets arenโt too busy, so itโs relatively quiet. The peaceful stillness gives me time to think and reflect and get lost in my own thoughts. Elijahโs business has been slow this month, as has mine, so weโve both had more time to spend together just enjoying each otherโs company, and weโve both needed it. Especially since my last job had me hunting someone down all over France which was goddamn exhausting. After Peytonโs โaccidentโ, it left Elijah as the so
~FLASHBACK A YEAR AGO~ โAnyone ever tell you what a wonderful couple you two make?โ John gushes. โYou would be the first, but thank you,โ I say with a bright smile. โHonestly feels like weโve been together forever,โ Elijah coos as he kisses my temple again. Iโve lost track of how many times heโs done that now. Before John can throw more compliments at our fake relationship, my phone rings. I reach out and take my phone off the coffee table. โExcuse me, I have to take this,โ I say as I get up and make my way to the balcony while Elijah watches on curiously. I close the sliding door behind me and answer the call. โItโs Victor,โ I hear the voice greet. โI canโt take on another job at the moment, Iโm still working on this one.โ โI wish thatโs why I was calling,โ he says, his voice sounding ominous, yet filled with guilt. โThen why are you calling?โ โA letter arrived for you todayโฆ itโs from The Tournament,โ he says anxiously. I sigh and lean against the rail. Fuck my luck. I glan
As I pull up to Il Segreto in my Jaguar, grab my handcrafted sterling silver clutch purse and open it to once again confirm Crimson is carefully tucked away inside. I close my purse back up, pull down my visor, and examine my makeup. My ivory skin is accentuated by my smokey black eyes with gold glitter pressed into the corner of my eyes. My lips are painted black as midnight with glitter that sparkles brighter than the stars. My black hair, which has grown exceptionally long over the past year, is up in a high, fluffy bun with tendrils coming down framing my face and hiding the faint scar that travels down the left side of my hairline. I gingerly touch the scar with my freshly manicured mirror chrome painted nails and reminisce on just how far Iโve come in this past year. ~FLASHBACK ONE YEAR AGO~ โThatโs it. Weโre retiring,โ I hear my mother whisper yell in Italian. I feel myself waking up, but I canโt seem to open my eyes, but even so, I take comfort in knowing my mother is here,
I jolt awake as I feel something touch my lips. Instinctively I flinch away, thinking itโs Hadleigh back for another round of torture. โItโs just water,โ I hear Elijahโs gentle voice say. I force my good eye open, as my other is now swollen shut. Even in this dim light I am able to make out the guilt that is all over his handsome face. I glance at the water bottle and gladly let him help me sip from it. It hurts, but I can feel how dehydrated my body is, so Iโm grateful for the water. I can feel the blood drying on my skin making my flesh itch, and I have so many wounds and injuries at this point that my entire body is just raw with pain. โKeeping me alive so she can torture me more?โ I ask in a croaky voice. Each movement of my mouth makes the cuts and contusion to my face ache and sting painfully. โI never wanted this, Heart. I didnโt have a choice,โ he says, as if pleading for me to forgive him. โThereโs alwaysโฆ a choice. I told you that nightโฆ all you had to doโฆ was ask for my
~ FLASHBACK A MONTH AGO~ โSo since obviously, my answer is yes to being the awesome godmother of your baby boy, howโs about you give me the information I want?โ I say getting back on track while I simultaneously monitor Alec and the dickhead following me. Mikhail chuckles, โA dealโs a deal. Get ready for this. Wasnโt easy to find but you came to the right place,โ he boasts. I roll my eyes, โSpit it out already.โ โSo impatient. Anyway, I ran the background on this Alec Lowell, and you were right to be suspicious. I checked all the data of these sites and all the information you found was only input into the system a month ago, prior to that none of the information on Alec Lowell existed,โ Mikhail informs me. I shake my head, โExplains the shadow and his apartment. Iโm being set up.โ โIt looks that way, but I was able to run facial recognition software and though it seems like more information on your guy has been erased, they didnโt get all of it, and Iโm better,โ he praises himse
Everything was peaceful and painless, and I was dreaming about the hikes I used to take with my family. The fact I was dreaming means Iโm still alive and if that wasnโt proof enough, then the fact my body is shocked into a state of consciousness as I feel excruciating pain shoot through my neck, would be a dead giveaway. I feel disoriented and yet every pain receptor in my body feels like itโs been amped up to a thousand, so I canโt stop the scream that escapes me. I feel something sharp in my neck and the warmth of my own blood gliding down my skin. I try to move but I instantly realise my arms and legs are bound. What hell have I woken up to now? โGot it!โ I hear a manโs voice declare. He sounds American โGood, now destroy it so no one can use it to track her and find her here,โ says a womanโs voiceโฆ a familiar womanโs voice at that. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling against concrete and a door that needs some oil, opening and closing. Thereโs an echo when the door shuts indic
Laying on the cot in the Red Room, I hold myself in the foetal position as agonising pain rips through my abdomen. I managed to stop throwing up and shitting my organs out long enough for them to bring me here and to add insult to injury, the nerve block in my feet has worn off, so right now, all I have is pain. My insides feel like theyโre constricted and on fire, my hands are throbbing painfully as I clench them into fists to fight off the pain, and my feet feel like theyโre on fire. I can feel the sweat soaking my hair and clothes and my breathing becoming more laboured by the minute. I bet Hexton was so proud of himself for putting me in here, thinking it would fuck with my head, but I barely even notice this stupid fucking Red Room because Iโm distracted by pain. Iโm probably going to die in this place. At this point it seems inevitable and yet Iโm just not ready to give up. My parents survived hell just like this so they could come home to me, if I just give up, then theyโll be
An answer to my question is given when another man enters my room, this time pushing the most compact, futuristic electric chair Iโve ever seen. Itโs really just a small seat on top of big tyres, thereโs not much to it, and nowhere near as bulky or cumbersome as the kind you see the elderly use. It has a joystick control, black leather lining and white exterior. I glare at the contraption with clear disdain. Iโm reduced to an electric wheelchair because they wonโt just let me go. Canโt walk or do shit, but still expected to make an appearance. Iโll be a sitting duck. Before the doctor administers the nerve block, he changes the bandages on my hands for a thinner, skin-coloured bandage, then the women help me into a one-shoulder floor-length lilac glittering sequined gown with a sweetheart bust and a slit up to my hip on my left side. Itโs stunning and hugs my body perfectly. My hair is styled in a large intricate updo that appears full and voluminous while also being sleek. My nails m
I feel myself start to wake up, but I canโt seem to open my eyes. The more alert my senses become the more aware I am of the pain and heaviness radiating through my body. I feel like I was thrown off a cliff and smashed against jagged rocks over and over and over again, but thatโs just my body. My feet are another story. Tears prick my shut eyes as the excruciating sensation of raw nerve endings being exposed hits me and I want to scream. The only thing stopping me is how weak I feel. I force my eyes open and thankfully am met by a dim light at the far end of the room. I can hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping its infuriating rhythm, but one that reminds me Iโm alive. I see several IV bags hung up, and as I attempt to glance down I notice the oxygen mask on my face. My body is wrapped up tight in shiny silver heat sheets and blankets like a little human burrito. Everything except my feet. My feet are suspended in harnesses, covered in some kind of cream. Even from here, I can s