"I have a goddess in front of me, it'd be a crime not to worship her." He whispered in my ear. His lips and hands met my skin anywhere they could. His lips painted a beautiful picture as he eased himself down my toned stomach.
"You have no idea how...
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Running was something ingrained in me along with the many other skills I'd learned through my miserable twenty-two years of living. It was easy, normal even.
It was easy to run away from the man I had saved a few weeks ago, even easier to stop him from tracking me down with his hackers and it was almost just as easy to figure out who he was after that.
Santiago Accardi, The infamous Italian Mafia don.
What wasn't easy however was getting his eyes out of my head, even now as I got ready in my mirror for tonight's job. I'd never given much thought to the saying 'the eyes are the window to the soul' but when I took the bullet for him and looked into his eyes I could've sworn I saw his soul and while his eyes looked into mine it seemed like he saw mine too.
When I looked into his eyes I froze momentarily as I took all of him in. The man before me was otherworldly. He wasn't some Greek God carved from any damn marble slab of stone, he was just simply otherworldly in the fact that he was dark. Too dark to have been human and I did not doubt in my mind that I had met the devil himself.
He was the type of man that could burn down the world and nothing would be able to stop him, not even the Gods themselves. It wasn't his dark brown hair that was nearly black that drew me in or his strong structured nose and chiseled face and it sure as hell wasn't his plump lips; It was his eyes.
His silver piercing eyes had branded themselves into my brain. Oddly it was as if they were looking out for me, looking for any danger I didn't see or just didn't want to see I wasn't sure, but, whatever it was they were still in the back of my mind for weeks later.
His eyes had sat under his thick arched brows, and long inked black eyelashes made his steely eyes seem all the darker. His pupils were surrounded by a soft silver, so soft it looked like they had been pencil drawn and blown out for a smokey effect. The rest of his eyes looked like the clouds that came tumbling in before it stormed. Clouds that could plunge the crystal blue sky into darkness, ripping away all joy of a happy day and replacing it with the fear of what the storm would bring. His eyes brought the same destruction a thunderstorm would and nobody and nothing would be spared from his destruction. The outer edges held a darker tint to them; almost like slate concrete, they sealed everything in, sealing in the silver grey hues of his eyes and the destruction they brought. And just like that concrete, his eyes were set and hard. I wondered if his decisions were as concrete as his eyes were, his words must have been set in stone before he'd even open his mouth for them to come cascading out.
I wasn't a fool I'd heard of him before I just never had the pleasure of meeting him. It was more of displeasure now that he was trying to track me down and I sure as hell did not need the extra attention or any more targets on my back. The only thing was I'd heard stories of him, some gorier than others but the one constant was his damn eyes. There was a reason his men didn't look at him.
It's been said that if you look into the eyes of Santiago Accardi you'll see your death, and that's something you never want to see. Simply put Santiago wasn't a villain. He wasn't the kind to run his hands together and chuckle maniacally, instead, he played with his victims. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of death after wronging him. He would pray on their biggest fears and make them suffer.
Santiago wasn't evil...he was worse, and he loved it. His name alone held a multitude of power. The Accardi's were practically royalty in the mafia world. His father and those before him had ruled as Dons with an iron fist each managing to improve the Cosa Nostra more and more as it was passed down to their first sons through the generations. It had been 10 years since he had taken the position when he was eighteen and nobody said a word about it, they knew who he was and what he could do.
I grumbled under my breath as I looked at the healing bullet wound and finished getting ready. I placed a gold arm cuff against the bandage of my wound. A simple little black dress adorned my body as well as black red bottoms. Dark vixen eyes and bold red lips made up a majority of my makeup for the club I'd be going to. A club that just so happened to be owned by one Santiago Accardi.
I wasn't the type to shy away from the lion's den but that doesn't mean I enjoy walking straight into one. However, I'd been keeping tabs on him since I'd saved his life and he repaid me by sending his hackers my way. He wasn't an enemy yet but that didn't mean I was taking any chances. I'd simply get in do my job and leave.
Victor Perez.
He was a slimy son of a bitch, he used the gun trade as a cover-up for what he liked; sex trafficking. I'd been following him for a while now. He hadn't been in the underground long but it was still long enough for him to gain a following the thing about being a part of the underground was that when you mess up you make enemies and having enemies can lead you to an early death if you weren't careful, and there are a lot of people that wanted Perez dead it was just my job to make sure he was. It could be an accident, a fire, or even just a bullet to the brain but whatever was asked of me would be done for the right amount of money.
But like I said I'd been following him for some time now I knew how he picked his women and I even knew what kind of women he liked to cheat on his wife with and tonight I fit the bill. So I strapped my weapons to my body, grabbed my keys, and made my way to the dons club Il mietitore. (the reaper)
