Kai Parker
My eyes fluttered open to the sound of peculiar snores that resembled a teapot about to explode. I propped myself up on my elbows. There was the snobby detective sprawled on the couch and the floor like a human pretzel. Her upper body rested comfortably on the couch while her legs and hands dangled down, making her look like a confused chicken. I couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all. I walked over to the couch, taking in Camille's athletic figure. She was a fearless rookie, outshining even her senior colleagues in physical fitness. Lorenzo's file had revealed her impressive defense training, where she learned to handle guns and tools like a pro. The file even mentioned that she could outdo any man. I had to admit; she was pretty damn impressive. But her snobby attitude, constant talking back, and overall bitchy behavior made her extremely unattractive and intolerable. It would pain me to admit it to her face; she was also quite easy on the eyes. Okay, fine, breathtaking. As I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, I couldn't help but notice her long eyelashes, high cheekbones, and those full, pouty lips. I was momentarily mesmerized. But then I remembered how she had pushed all my buttons last night. Lucky for her, she is of some value to Brandon, or I wouldn't have hesitated to drive a bullet in her snarky mouth. Sometimes she made me want to strangle her to death, and other times she made me think. . . inappropriate thoughts. Shaking my head to clear those thoughts, I decided to shower and change into my trusty black three-piece suit. I carefully styled my hair, ensuring every strand was in place, and put on my favorite watch. Before slipping on my shoes, I decided to wake up Sleeping Beauty.
"Wake up," I commanded, nudging her dangling leg with my toes. To my surprise, she didn't budge an inch.
"Camille!" I yelled in her ear, expecting her to jump up with a start. Instead, she scrunched her eyes shut and rolled over, completely ignoring me. Fine, if that's how you wanna play. I shook her shoulders and called her name again, but she swatted my hands away. The audacity of this little scamp! Being the mature person that I am, I slapped her hand back. I tried tickling her, and that's when disaster struck. As soon as my fingers grazed her ticklish spot, her leg flew in my direction. Luckily, I managed to dodge it in time.
Okay, calm the fuck down. She wouldn't kick like that if she were in her right mind. Or would she? Oh, who am I kidding? She most definitely would!
"Camille! Wake the hell up right now, or I swear I'll toss you off the balcony!" I threatened, my frustration reaching its peak. But she remained motionless, as good as dead. That did it. I grabbed her by the leg and yanked her down onto the floor. She landed with a thud, and finally, a groan escaped her lips. Okay, maybe I used a tad too much force.
"Ughh- Whoever is trying to mess with me, I am going to kill you, you son of a bitch! I'll chop your dick off, dice it and feed it to you! If you pin me again, I'll make sure you rot in hell, you whoreson!" she slurred, her eyes still closed. She continued cursing for a while as I stood there, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Detective had an impressively filthy mouth. Eventually, her curses turned into sweet snores, and once again, she fell back asleep, this time on the damn floor. She was definitely not a morning person. I had never encountered such stubbornness in my life. Running a hand through my hair in exasperation, I made my way to the balcony.
"This girl is going to be the death of me," I muttered, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air to calm myself. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I answered the call with a hint of aggression.
"What?" I snapped.
"I was gonna ask if you'd grace us with your presence at breakfast, but now I gotta know, who bit your ass so early in the morning?" Enzo's voice crackled through the line.
"She's not even awake, yet somehow she's already managed to push every single one of my wrong buttons and get on my last freaking nerve!" I gritted.
"Well, we're all waiting eagerly in the office for the full version, with bonus scenes and director's cut," he chuckled, ending the call. I shook my head. This bastard always finds joy in my misery. I felt something wet on my bare toes. Looking down, I found Bruno, my loyal dog, happily licking my feet. A mischievous idea popped into my head, and I scooped him up.
"Oh, I'm so going to enjoy this." I chuckled to myself. "Bruno, my friend, we're about to have some fun. You in?" Bruno responded with an enthusiastic wag of his tail. I headed back inside and placed Bruno on top of Camille. Yes, right above her snoring dead body on my bedroom floor. Bruno started barking furiously, and Camille's eyes flew open in shock. She jumped up with a horrified scream, shoving Bruno away, who landed safely on the rug a few meters away. Bruno let out a furious bark and started charging toward Camille, ready to attack. Camille, believing I would save her once again, ran behind me. However, this time, I stood there, thoroughly enjoying the hilarious scene unfolding before me. The expression on Camille's face was absolutely priceless. She looked like a fish out of water, with her hair all over the place. Bruno was just inches away from her when she jumped on my back, using me as a human shield. Fucking again! And, of course, her screams were back to their usual eardrum-shattering volume.
"For the love of God, have some mercy on my ears!" I yelled, unable to bear her high-pitched shrieks. They were pure torture. I whistled for Bruno, and he obediently retreated to the balcony. Turning to face the mirrored wall, I addressed the reflection of Camille sitting on my shoulders.
"Your screams could wake the dead," I remarked, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "At this rate, I might just go deaf."
"Well, if that's the case, I guess I'll just have to scream all day to get rid of you," she shot back, meeting my reflection's gaze.
"I'm not that easy to get rid of, detective."
"Why? Are you some kind of plague?" Narrowing my eyes, I forcefully removed her hand around my neck, causing her to stumble and fall to the floor. Muttering something, she managed to regain her footing.
"If you keep throwing yourself at me, I'll take it as a hint," I teased, fixing my collar, a mischievous glint in my eyes.
"What hint?" she furrowed her brow.
"That you want to seduce me," I said, stepping closer, my voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper.
"Of course, you can't resist the allure of my irresistible charm and sizzling presence." I closed the distance between us, our bodies almost touching. The air crackled with tension, and a playful smile danced on my lips.
"But sweetheart, all you have to do is ask." She seemed momentarily caught off guard, her eyes flickering with curiosity and defiance.
"Get over yourself, thy king," she retorted, her voice laced with a faux sense of respect as she pushed past me. The corners of my mouth curled into a knowing smirk. She was a challenge, and I enjoyed every moment of it. I watched as she walked away, her hips swaying with confidence.
"Your new clothes are in the room next to this one," I called after her, my tone still filled with amusement. "Get that drool off your shitface and change. You're not allowed to enter this room without me, nor are you supposed to be exploring this mansion. If I find you roaming around, I'll lock you in a real cell where hostages are supposed to be."
"Yes, Master," she replied, her voice dripping with taunting defiance. I couldn't help but chuckle at her audacity. She had a fire within her, and I relished the challenge she presented. Leaving my room, I was followed by a yawning Camille. The door behind us automatically locked. One of my men stepped forward, guiding Camille to her designated room, while I instructed two of my security guards to keep a close eye on her, ensuring she wouldn't escape the mansion's boundaries. She may have been a captive, but I knew she had the potential to wreak havoc if given the chance.
"I heard you slept with the detective last night," Enzo's remark sliced through the air as soon as the guard opened the door to my office. I could feel the weight of their gazes on me. Enzo, Monti, Viktor, Hunter, and Marcus were all seated before me, savoring their morning coffees, their eyes filled with amusement and curiosity. To the rest of the world, they were the embodiment of fear, savagery, viciousness, brutality, and emotional detachment. But to me, they were like brothers. And they were as interested in the smallest details of my personal life as a cat chasing a laser pointer. I strode towards my throne, settling into its imposing embrace, the intricate carvings pressing against my back. A cup of steaming hot coffee, always present in anticipation of my arrival, awaited me. I took a sip, savoring the rich, bitter taste, before meeting their expectant gazes.
"You all gathered at 9 in the morning just to satisfy your curiosities?" I raised an eyebrow.
Hunter couldn't help but object, "You never let anyone in your room, but you let her in. That's gotta mean something, right?"
Viktor, always the curious one, said, "I haven't had the pleasure of laying eyes on her yet. But was she any good?"
"If you are done messing with her, can I take off this ridiculous yellow hair claw now?" Monti interjected, the small accessory dangling from his hair strand.
"Are you planning to answer any of our questions, or are we just here for decoration?" Marcos spoke up, putting down his cup of coffee.
A mischievous glint danced in my eyes as I leaned forward, placing my coffee cup on the ornate table.
"I am hungry," I declared, earning a collective scowl. Their scowls only fueled my amusement. "And we have a meeting after breakfast. You guys better have some leads on Brandon and the snarky Russian gang who tried to sabotage our deal last month." Standing up, I made my way towards the dining room. As I entered the lounge, I noticed Camille descending the stairs in black sweats, followed by two of my guards. I couldn't help but notice the bruise on one of their faces.
"Mark, what happened to your face?" I inquired.
"I was simply trying to wake her up," he muttered, his voice filled with mild frustration. "Because you asked her to join us at the breakfast table before you." Damnit. Looks like I wasn't the only one who suffered from Camille's sleeping torture. It was clear as day that disturbing this little monster in sleep was a grave mistake one could make.
"You're quite a violent thing, going around beating up my men." A mischievous smirk curled her lips.
"I wonder when it's your turn," she retorted, her eyes glinting defiantly. My hand instinctively shot out, gripping her arm and pulling her closer.
"Remember, you're a mere hostage here, not a fucking queen," I hissed, my words carrying a warning.
"I don't need a man to tell me that I'm the queen," she countered, her voice dripping with unwavering confidence.
"These men wouldn't think twice about turning you into a punching bag if it weren't for my orders," I cautioned, tightening my grip. To my surprise, a glimmer of amusement danced in her eyes as she batted her eyelashes mockingly.
"Are you expecting me to thank you, my lord?" she taunted, her words pushing against my boundaries. My jaw clenched, and frustration and fascination coursed through me. She was a puzzle, a challenge that both frustrated and enticed me. From the corner of my eye, I noticed my mischievous little demon, Leo, standing by the wall, a water gun in his hand. At that moment, I knew exactly what he was planning. Without hesitation, I pulled Camille in front of me, shielding myself from the water attack. As Leo's finger grazed the small, colorful trigger, a shower of thick liquid erupted and drenched Camille.
"Bro, you're a real coward, hiding behind a fragile woman," Leo jeered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I couldn't help but chuckle, watching the liquid glue drip down Camille's furious face.
"Neither am I a coward nor is this violent little thing a fragile woman," I retorted. Leo rolled his eyes and turned on his heels, and walked off to his room, undoubtedly creating some devilish plan to amuse himself.
"Did you just fucking use me as a human shield?" Camille snapped, her voice filled with annoyance and viciousness as she desperately tried to wipe the glue from her face.
"You used me as a human shield first. Last night, in my bedroom. And let's not forget this morning," I countered, a playful smirk on my lips. Muttering profanities, she rushed to the restroom, and I advanced toward the breakfast table with Enzo. A few minutes later, Camille joined, and as she drew a chair far away from me, I stopped her.
"Your seat is right here, detective," I smirked, gesturing to my lap. Her jaw clenched in annoyance
"You got to be kidding me." She gritted.
"Usually Bruno sits here, but now that you are here-"
"Did you just compare me with your fucking dog?" She cut me off, infuriated.
"Woah, woah. I would never do that. Bruno is much more trained, obedient, skilled, and valuable than a lousy detective like you that has hundreds of unsolved cases under her desk." I mocked, provoking chuckles from everyone around the table. She walked up to my throne, leaning down towards me. Damn. Why does she have to be so confident and bold?
"There is no power in this world that can make me sit on your fucking lap." Just as she stated that, she was pushed onto my lap with one nudge by Monti.
"Karma is a bitch." He scoffed, his hair claw now dangling from his hair strand. Before she could swear at him, I snaked my hand around her waist, pulling her back and placing a napkin on her legs.
"Let go of me. I'm not your fucking pet." she seethed, aiming a precise elbow nudge in my ribs. Fuck. She knew exactly where to strike. She struggled for a while but soon realized she was no match for my strength and reluctantly gave up. But not before throwing me an icy glare that could freeze the room. We proceeded with our breakfast, and Camille kept tossing her hair in my face, clearly trying to annoy me. She was even chewing the French toast loudly just to infuriate me and get under my skin. And I have to admit; she was succeeding.
"We have scissors in our mansion, don't we, Monti?" I asked, tucking Camille's hair behind her ear. She swatted at my hand furiously, shooting me a venomous glare.
"We certainly do, boss," Monti smirked. Camille straightened up, and I smirked. She is too easy to handle. I thought to myself, smirking, but my joy was short-lived as the next second, this rebellious kitten poured hot, burning coffee on my lap, making me jump.
"We have washing machines in the mansion, Monti, don't we?" Camille asked slyly, a mischievous smirk playing on her shitface. "Or should I just use your silk tie to wipe off this stain?"
"You're so dead, detective," I muttered, my eyes narrowing with determination.