With a sigh, I sat down naked in my computer chair. Sometimes, the zeros and ones would give me the clarity I needed in other decisions. But not this time. I barely sat there a couple of minutes before my mind was wandering back to the goddess in my bed.
“Screw it,” I muttered. “Once more can’t make things worse. Surely.”
I stood up, then scooped up my phone from the desk. Maybe I’d take some pictures this time, or a video. Perhaps if I had some visual media, I could let the real Danny go. It was a long shot, but certainly worth the try… Would she let me? Or would she play shy and hide from the camera?
My phone lit up in my hand before I got back to the bedroom, though, and I paused to check what the notification was. It was a new contract offer on my executioner ID number. Although I’d told Danny that it was a myth that mercenaries weren’t allowed to decline contracts, the rules were a little different for executioners. We were recruited for that position because we never declined a contract. Ever. The Guild’s needs always came before our own, and no lines were too hard to cross.
Executioners were barely even human. I was barely even human. Which was why my visceral reaction to Danny DeLuna had shaken me so deeply.
It was a daily struggle not to think of Layla around her. But with every moment that passed with Danny in my house, with her scent on my sheets and her kisses on my lips, I had come to a sobering realization. That I’d never truly loved Layla.
I cared for her. I liked her. But the sheer intensity of what I felt for Danny made my history with Layla seem pale in comparison.
I wasn’t idiot enough to go declaring that I was falling in love with DeLuna. The obsession I had for her was far less healthy than love, despite how carefully normal I’d been acting around her all week.
Returning to my office, I sat back in my chair and opened the notification I’d just received. To my surprise, it wasn’t a contract. It was a personal communication from none other than Emmanuel Blanchet himself. How very coincidental.
Of course, he didn’t know I knew it was him. The Circle were very careful to maintain their anonymity. It was what kept them all alive and their bloodlines safe. When seats of power passed down family lines, the only way to ensure that power never shifted was to be beyond paranoid.
When I read the message, a cold shiver ran through me, and I sat up straighter.
“Why ?” I asked aloud, reading the request for Danny’s execution a second time over. There was no explanation—there rarely was—just her assigned ID number and a polite if terse request to provide proof of death within a timely manner.
I sat there a long moment, reading the sparse details over and over, as though more words would appear on the screen. Then I frowned and typed out a response.
Understood. I’ll await the contract.
Because the request was just that. A request. I didn’t have to comply until a formal contract was provided. Such was the way with all Guild assignments. At the root of the organization, it was a business. Every job was a transaction with clearly defined expectations and payment details. Without that, I was under no obligation and, truthfully, I would be a fool to accept. Contracts protected both parties.
Blanchet responded to me almost immediately.
No contracts. Just get it done and you’ll be paid.
I quirked a brow at that response. If there was no contract, then it was a personal vendetta for Blanchet. Furthermore, it meant he either hadn’t attempted or hadn’t gained the support of two more Circle members. Executions—kill orders on our own mercenaries—needed to be authorized by three Circle members.
With a sigh, I drummed my fingers on the arm of my chair. The mere fact that I was even considering refusing this request said my obsession had gone way too far. I’d never questioned my loyalty to the Guild before. Not once. Not even when Layla feared for her life, convinced someone was trying to kill her.
The Guild was all I’d ever known. Both my parents had been Guild and had raised me to be the man I was today. Cold, ruthless, immoral. The perfect asset to the organization. It was people like me , the ones who did what needed to be done without hesitation and without guilt, we were the ones who maintained the Guild’s power. It was because of the executioners that the Guild had survived over a thousand years in business.
Nothing and no one was more important in my life than my loyalty to the Mercenary Guild. Not Layla, not my own mother. Yet here I was, for the first time, seriously thinking about refusing an order.
For her .
Danny DeLuna.
An unpleasant, nauseating feeling swirled through my stomach as I acknowledged that disturbing fact.
Danny was dangerous. Not just to those she went after, but to me . She was a problem, and I didn’t pussyfoot around my problems.
Tightening my jaw, I left my office once more and headed to the weapons supply room along the corridor further. I didn’t let myself dwell on what I was about to do, I just picked up the closest dagger and closed the room up again before I could change my mind.
My footsteps were silent as I entered my bedroom, my breathing shallow and quiet as I tensed for a fight. But I only needed a moment to realize it wouldn’t be anything so dramatic. Danny was asleep.
I stood frozen at the foot of the bed, letting my breathing return to normal as I stared down at her. Dusk had only just started to fall, and the room was still well lit. Nothing obscured my view of her achingly perfect body, those unbelievable full breasts rising and falling with her breath.
She hadn’t even bothered to get under the blankets, seeming to have fallen asleep right where I left her, then rolled onto her back at some point. Her legs were slightly spread, one knee hitched, and I inhaled deeply when I saw the wet sheen of my cum in her pussy.
Swallowing hard, I clenched the dagger tight in my left hand but used my right to take her photo on my phone. The picture was perfect, hiding nothing. I needed more.
My murderous intention was abandoned for a few moments as I captured every glorious angle of Danny on my camera gallery. My cock was so hard it ached, but I didn’t dare wake her. I just snapped my perverse gallery, knowing I would look at them later. Many, many times.
She sighed in her sleep, and I froze dead still as she shifted slightly. Her legs ended wider apart, like an invitation . I took more pictures, then tossed my phone onto the chair to grasp my erection. Maybe… maybe my head would be clearer if I could come one more time. Maybe if I did it while she slept, then I wouldn’t be at risk of losing myself in those gorgeous sapphire eyes of hers.
Fuck . No. I was losing my determination already, and that was unacceptable.
Gritting my teeth, I released my dick and resolved myself to do what needed to be done.
I shifted the dagger into my right hand, admiring the way the setting sun gleamed off the seven-inch blade. It was so clean, but about to become drenched in the blood of an angel. I already knew I would never wash it. I’d mount it in a frame and hang it at the end of my bed, a constant reminder of the closest I’d ever come to true human emotion.
Danny didn’t wake as I climbed onto the bed with her, but when I straddled her waist, she mumbled my name in her sleep. It made me pause. She was dreaming about me. Me . Not that manipulative fuck who’d held her captive for a month… me .
Conflicting emotions swirled through me as I stared down at her perfect face, serene with sleep.