#1 in the Fatal Attraction series
⚠️Warning: 18+⚠️
Midnight, the most feared woman in the world. If she doesn't kill you she'll make you stronger. Businesswoman, assassin, bounty hunter, thief, she does it all. Come to her with a problem she'll with...
"Now that, that is taken care of let's get to the fun part." Midnight says in French. She sits up and stalks towards the wall and yanks her dagger out of the wall. It was one of her favorites. A gift from Javier for her eighteenth birthday.
"I'm going to be generous and give you a say in the way this is going to go," Midnight announces. "First option: a blood eagle. A blood eagle is extremely painful and the most enjoyable for me. I get to twist your ribs up to look like wings." Her eyes glaze over with a faraway look. A look of lust, bloodlust. "Second option: the vile and vulgar words you sent to those kids." She pauses to shudder from the thought of those awful words. "I get to carve into your skin."
"I-is t-their a t-third o-option?" The bastard asks. "M-money p-p-perhaps?"
Midnight pretends to consider the offer. She crosses her arms and gives him a deadpan look. "No." She lashes the whip against his chubby arm. He shrieks in pain. "And just because you had the audacity to ask after I was so generous; I'm going to pick option two."
He shakes his head and whimpers. She kicks him in the stomach and sends him sprawled against the floor. She pins his arms to the floor with two hunting knives. He screams in agony as the knives cut through the bones in his arms. She does the same with his legs.
"P-p-please," He pleads. Tears are streaming down his face. Snot is running down his lips. Midnight rolls her eyes and starts carving the letter M into his cheek. He screams and yerks, only worsening his pain. She carves the A and the S. She is carving the words in English not French, for reasons she doesn't know. His thick, warm blood runs down his face onto her hands. She wipes the blood on her black, leather skirt before carving the T and the E, quickly followed by the R.
He passes out from the pain so she stabs him in between his legs. He wakes up with an agonizing scream. His pulse is erratic. His breathing is heavy and he starts flailing and jerking like a fish out of water. A heart attack, she realizes. He's having a heart attack. She gets up and walks out of the room, leaving him there to suffer.
*****
"Marcia!" Satino calls, walking down the teakwood steps. He had awoken around six to workout. He wanted to check on Maven before heading to the gym, but when he had opened her door, expecting to see her sleeping form, instead he was met with an empty bed. "Do you know where Maven is?" He asks, entering the kitchen where Marcia, his cook, was making breakfast.
"Miss. Maven is at the beach, sir." She says before flipping a pancake.
"Thank you, Marcia." He says and heads out the patio doors and to the beach. He discards his pair of Vans-on the teakwood deck-Midnight gifted him for his last birthday. They were his favorite shoes, the most comfortable one, too.
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Maven is in a tight, orange bikini, doing some sort of yoga pose. She was holding herself up by her elbows. Her back was arched and her two legs were in the air. One extended and the toes pointed at the end, and the other curled with her toes pointed.
"Well this is definitely something I could get used to," He muses. She gasps in surprise and her elbows give out and she falls to the sand.
"Maven!" Santino shouts in panic. He drops to his knees and helps her into a sitting position. She starts laughing like a crazed maniac. "Tino, it's sand. I'm okay." He could have sworn she was blushing or maybe it was just from the sun.
"Are you sure?" He asks. She nods.
"I've haven't been to the beach since I was a little girl," She says, after some time of silence. "My mom loved Santorini."
"Santorini is beautiful," Santino says. He takes her hand in his and gives it a little squeeze. She offers him a small smile.
"Have you lived here your whole life?"
"Yes, my fathers family has lived here since the 1600's." He answers. "You're very flexible. Do you do yoga often?"
"Only when I'm nervous," She answers.
"Why are you nervous?" He asks. "You can talk to me. I know I'm not exactly the easiest person to deal with and maybe not the best at giving comfort, but you can still talk to me, I'll listen."
"Thank you, Santino." She says. "Your mother arrives tomorrow. I'm nervous about meeting her."
"I liked Tino better," He shoves her shoulder playfully. She giggles and leans into his bicep. "You have nothing to be nervous about, Mi Diosa. My mother will love you."
