Ruby and Helen exchanged uncertain glances.
Meanwhile, Delilah walked to the door, casting one last look at the café across the street. Her eyes glinted with determination.
If Sss... Café thought they could steal her customers, they had no idea who they were up against.
"Helen," she said, her voice calm but layered with purpose, "I need you to start gathering information about Sss... Café and its owner."
Helen nodded, a faint flicker of unease crossing her face. "Alright," she said, her tone steady despite the undercurrent of concern.
Delilah opened her mouth to add more, but Ruby’s sharp voice cut in, brimming with exasperation. "Gosh, when can we just take a break? Now we have to deal with that and execute the café owner?"
Delilah froze, the words hitting her like a sharp gust of wind.
Her brows k
Delilah turned to her, arching a perfectly sculpted brow."Stunt?" Her lips curled into a smirk. "I prefer to call it leveling the playing field. They were the ones who decided to play dirty. I simply ensured their actions didn’t go unnoticed."Ruby chuckled, her voice low and raspy. "I’ll give you credit for subtlety. That coffee dispenser trick? Brilliant. Disgusting, but brilliant."Delilah didn’t answer immediately.Her gaze drifted to the bustling café, her expression softening as Helen moved effortlessly behind the counter.Helen handed a latte to a customer with a bright smile, her hands firm and her presence polished."Sometimes," Delilah said, her voice barely above a whisper, "it’s not about brute force. It’s about knowing when to act—and how. This wasn’t about ruining them; it was a
Delilah’s jaw dropped, her breath catching."What?" she whispered. Her fingers trembled as she put the remote down, her eyes locked on the screen.The reporter continued, detailing the shocking turn of events. "Authorities have confirmed that Mrs. Madison died by apparent suicide, jumping from the balcony of her home earlier this evening."Delilah’s mind raced. *How? Why?*She barely had time to process the information when the bedroom door creaked open.Her heart leaped, thinking it was Marco.However, it was Mrs. Hayden who stepped inside.Delilah quickly grabbed the remote, turning off the TV.She narrowed her eyes, her voice tinged with suspicion. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Hayden?"Mrs. Hayden offered a tight s
Helen tilted her head, her doubt evident. "This is about Mrs. Madison, isn’t it?"Delilah’s jaw tightened, her eyes smoldering. "Yes."Ruby’s brows drew together, her voice hesitant. "The client? The one you postponed yesterday?"Delilah nodded, her voice a knife’s edge. "She’s dead."A thick silence enveloped the room. Ruby’s eyes widened, darting to Helen, who sat frozen, her lips parted in shock.Helen leaned forward, her voice cautious yet probing. "Dead? How?""They’re calling it a suicide," Delilah replied, her tone clipped, each word deliberate. "But there’s more to it than that."Ruby’s lips parted as realization dawned. "Wait, are you saying—"The soft creak of the door interrupted them, and all three heads turned.Mrs. Hay
Delilah narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening. "The bigger picture? Is that what you call turning your back on someone who trusted us?"Helen finally spoke, her tone gentle but firm. "It’s not about trust. It’s about safety, Delilah. Mrs. Madison’s situation was tragic, yes. But we’re not detectives or vigilantes. We’re executors. We handle executions, not investigate deaths."Delilah let out a bitter laugh. "Is that how you justify it? By sticking to the job description?"Helen frowned but said nothing.Ruby, however, couldn’t resist. "It’s not just about that. Look, I don’t want to get caught up in this because it never ends well when emotions come into play. You know that, Delilah."Delilah took a step closer to the table, her presence commanding despite the room's elegant and tranquil decor.Her
Delilah didn't think much about it.In the evening, she leaned over the railing, the cool breeze brushing her face, she was already prepared for what was coming.Anticipation buzzed faintly in her chest as she saw Marco’s familiar silhouette approaching the mansion’s entrance.But he wasn’t alone.Lucia was with him, her tall frame radiating confidence as she walked beside Marco, holding some documents.Delilah straightened, her lips thinning as her fingers gripped the railing tighter.She descended the stairs deliberately, her heels clicking against the polished wood.The sound echoed sharply, cutting through the quiet hall like a warning.The sound caught Marco’s attention, and he looked up, his dark eyes immediately landing on her.For
Delilah poured herself a glass of wine, her hands trembling slightly as the ruby liquid swirled into the glass.She took a deep breath and steadied herself before taking a sip, her lips pressing tightly against the rim as she fought the gnawing sensation in her chest."How could I have been so stupid?" she thought, almost chuckling as her mind replayed the conversation over and over.Marco’s sharp tone, the disappointment in his eyes—it all haunted her.The room felt cold despite the warm atmosphere.Delilah wrapped her free arm around her torso, her hand gripping her side tightly.The glass met her lips again, and this time, she drank deeply, letting the burn distract her from the ache inside.Delilah refilled the wine glass. She raised it to her lips, ready to drink again.Just as
"And what will you do anyway?" Lucia sneered. "Push me out? That won’t work because I’ll boldly return with a recent tape of Marco groaning my name."Lucia leaned closer, her voice lowering mockingly. "Take note of that, you poor orphan."Something in Delilah snapped at the insult.Before she could think, her hand shot out, landing a resounding slap across Lucia’s face.The sound echoed in the small restroom, and Lucia staggered back, her expression a mix of shock and pain."You—" Lucia started, but Delilah grabbed her arm, spinning her back around.The fight began.Lucia, fueled by rage and her wrestling past, swung at Delilah with strikes.Delilah, though reluctant at first to engage fully - because she had never hurt a woman and didn't intend to - defended herse
The knock on the library door was firm yet restrained, interrupting Marco's focused gaze on the documents scattered across his oak desk.Without lifting his head, he adjusted his wristwatch and called out, "Come in."He expected Lucia’s familiar face to peek in, but instead, Delilah stepped through the doorway. Her soft smile and composed demeanor instantly filled the room."Hi," she greeted, her voice light and inviting.Marco leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Hi."Delilah closed the door gently behind her and walked further in. "I came to check up on you. How’s it going?""Great," Marco replied, though his tone lacked conviction. He glanced at his wristwatch again and frowned. "Except that Lucia was supposed to be here by now to assist me, but she’s not here yet."Delilah’s brows
Marco obeyed without hesitation, his body moving as though under her spell. He reclined on the desk, the smooth wood cool against his heated skin. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his dark eyes locked onto her every move.Delilah climbed up beside him, her bare knees pressing against the desk as she straddled his waist. The raw vulnerability in his expression sent a thrill through her—he was completely hers, body and soul.She ran her hands along his chest, marveling at the taut muscles beneath her fingertips. "You’re so beautiful, Marco," she murmured, her voice filled with an affection that softened the tension between them.He reached for her, his hands settling on her hips, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. "Not yet," she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips against his in a feather-light kiss.The restraint in his touch, the way his fingers flexed against her thighs as if to keep from pulling her closer, sent a rush of power through her veins.Deli
Delilah’s heart raced as Marco’s words hung in the air, his voice thick with desperation. His gaze bore into hers, hot and unrelenting, daring her to take the next step. She could feel the weight of his request pressing against her resolve, urging her to give in to the temptation that had been building all night. But she wasn’t ready to let go of this control just yet."Tell me again," she demanded softly, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his aching length. "Tell me what you want, Marco."His chest heaved with each breath, his hands gripping the edges of the desk for balance. "I want you, Delilah," he said, his voice low and rough. "I want to see you naked, I want to feel every inch of you. Show me how much you want this."Her lips curved into a slow, secretive smile. "Good boy," she murmured, her tone laced with a teasing edge. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his cock twitched in her hand, desperate for release. But she wasn’t done playing yet.With deliber
The weight of Delilah's body shifted unsteadily, and she instinctively grabbed Marco’s shoulders for balance, her fingers digging into the fabric of his crisp white shirt. His lips were relentless against hers, his tongue pressing insistently into her mouth as if demanding a response. He couldn’t stop himself. The way she fit against him, her warmth, her scent—it drove him past reason.She moaned softly, her head tilting back to grant him better access, but her mind was racing. This wasn’t how it usually went. Typically, Marco took charge, always so confident in bed, while she melted into his touch, following his lead. But tonight… tonight something had ignited within her, a flicker of boldness that refused to be extinguished."Marco…" she murmured against his lips, her voice trembling with both nerves and desire. "I want… I want to try something."He paused, his dark eyes locking onto hers, curiosity mingling with heat. What was she thinking? She looked nervous, but there was som
Marco raised an eyebrow, his piercing gaze cutting through Delilah like a sharp blade.Delilah’s mind raced as she replayed her gory remark. A wave of dread washed over her, and she quickly forced a smile, hoping to lighten the moment. "I was just joking," she said, her tone overly bright.Marco’s brow didn’t relax, his expression unreadable yet commanding.Delilah felt the walls closing in on her. Without waiting for a response, she gestured toward the door. "I’ll, uh, leave you two to it," she muttered, her words rushed. Turning on her heel, she quickly exited the library, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.The room now belonged to Marco and Gino.Gino wasted no time, pulling a stack of documents toward him. He sat at a small table on the far side of the library, diligently error-checking the papers. Marco, meanwhile, settled into his chair, unwrapping the food Delilah had brought and eating with calculated leisure.As Gino worked, a stray thought struck him like lightning
Gino’s throat felt like it had closed up, his knees weak as he stammered, "I—I would never hide anything from you, boss. Never! I’ve never hidden anything from you before."Marco tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable but undeniably menacing. "Are you certain?"Gino nodded furiously, his heart pounding.Marco leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "And what if I find out that you’ve been hiding something? Or that you’re hiding something even now?"Gino gulped hard, his hands clammy as he tried to avoid the sheer force of Marco’s gaze."What should I do then, Gino?" Marco asked casually, the words a stark contrast to the danger emanating from him. "Cut off your legs? Or your hands?"Gino froze. His mind raced as he tried to figure out the safest answer—or if there even was one. If he chose neither, Marco might grow suspicious. But what if he chose and Marco actually followed through? Marco was a man of his word, and Gino knew that.His eyes darted across the desk, hoping to
The memory faded as Delilah blinked, her vision adjusting to the light of the bedroom. Her eyelashes were still damp, her cheeks streaked with traces of her earlier tears. She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to push back the emotions threatening to surface. Her hand moved to her cheeks, wiping away any remaining evidence before the door creaked open.Marco stepped inside silently, dressed in a crisp white shirt that hugged his broad shoulders. His short, black hair was stylishly messy, as if he had just run his fingers through it. He carried a lap tray filled with food, his expression a mix of focus and excitement. As he quietly shut the door behind him, his gaze finally landed on her."You’re awake," he said, a slight frown creasing his forehead.Delilah quickly sat up, pulling the oversized shirt closer to her body. "Yeah... What’s with the tray?" she asked, her voice casual despite the blush heating her cheeks.Marco approached her, his lips curving into a soft smile. "Well,
Delilah forced a smile, her lips quivering under the weight of the façade.Her heart pounded in her chest, but she managed to keep her steps steady."Perfect," Josh said, his grin smug as he watched her obey.Her lips trembled as her smile faltered, her eyes misting with tears.She blinked rapidly, willing herself to hold it together. Not here. Not now.As they stepped outside, Josh scanned the surroundings.A few neighbors were visible in the distance, chatting casually, unaware of the silent terror unraveling just a few feet away.Delilah's gaze flicked to the white truck parked ahead. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her heart hammered louder at the thought of Josh pulling the trigger. She had to think, and fast.And then she ran.Josh’s eyes widened in d
The night had ended blissfully, leaving a comforting warmth in the bedroom that lingered well into the morning.The soft glow of sunlight filtered through the curtains, brushing against Delilah’s peaceful face as she slept.She lay on her side, facing Marco, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Her hair was a cascade of curls, slightly messy but effortlessly enchanting.Marco was awake, his dark eyes tracing her features with an intensity only he could possess.His bare chest rose with a deep breath as he admired her, the curve of her lips, the delicate lashes that framed her hazel eyes. She looked so serene, so unlike the guarded woman he had first encountered.But then, a faint furrow appeared on her brow.Marco’s gaze sharpened, and his thoughts grew troubled. Was she dreaming? A night
Marco arched a brow as he watched her rise from her seat. She stepped around the table, her movements deliberate. His gaze followed her every step."Where are you going?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.She extended her hand toward him, her expression playful yet commanding. "Stand up."Marco hesitated only briefly before placing his hand in hers and rising to his full height. She led him a few feet away from the table, the dim lighting casting a warm glow on their faces."This," Delilah began, placing his right hand at the small of her waist, "is called a Closed Position dance. I’m sure you’ve heard of it."Marco tilted his head, feigning ignorance, though his smirk betrayed him. "No," he said smoothly. "I’ve never heard of it."Her brow furrowed, and she muttered under her breath, "You don’t?... Eh, it’s fine. It’