Beautiful Assassin by Skyla Madi
If I’m going to have her, I need her to ditch that fucking ring.
∞ Cammie Connors ∞
I don’t know how long we watch the waterfall after our passionate kiss.
Our. Passionate. Kiss.
It was real for me this time, not fake like the first time I kissed him, which was the night he broke into my apartment. I don’t know what got into me. He caught me in those beautiful, volcanic eyes of his and it brought out the darkest parts of me. I’ve never spoken to Christiano like that. Not ever. I’ve never told Christiano what I like and what I don’t like in the ten years we’ve been ‘together.’ Why? Because the one time I did, he said, “You don’t need to tell me what you like,” as if he already knew.
Stefan wants to please me. I can see it in his face whenever I’m close to him, and it fills me with power. It makes me feel sexy and worthy—things I haven’t felt in a long, long time.
Stefan is ten times the man Christiano is, but both have similar faults. Example? Stefan is lying to me. I figured it out on the walk here. To Stefan, my questions were juvenile—innocent, even—but I discovered a lot during our brief conversation. Moretti wants revenge on the Russos and he won’t stop. I have reason to believe one of them was involved in the death of his wife, Abelie Moretti. Considering Moretti chose me as his first target instead of someone who actually knows what’s going on, I’d guess Christiano was the one who killed her. Now, I’m no detective, but it all seems pretty obvious to me.
Moretti won’t let me go back to Christiano. Why would he allow Chris to have his happy ending when Chris stole his?
I should be mad at Stefan for not telling me what’s really going on, but how can I be? We barely know each other. He doesn’t owe me a thing…but maybe the kiss we just shared changes things.
“Moretti doesn’t want me going back to Christiano, does he?” I ask and Stefan’s body tightens ever so slightly against me.
I listen to the beat of his heart. It thunders in his chest, pulsing rapidly. It’s a dramatic change from a second ago when it drummed at an easy pace. I feel his chest fill with air before he releases it in one rapid exhale.
“No.” His voice rumbles in his chest.
“If I do, he’ll have you kill me?”
“Yes.”
How can Moretti guarantee that I won’t go back to Christiano if he keeps me alive? How can—I pause. Oh. I pull away from Stefan and look up at him. Emotion drains from his face as he fights back a grimace. He knows I know.
“Are you trying to manipulate me, Stefan?”
Stefan opens his mouth, only to close it again and the realisation punches me in the gut. Granted, I haven’t known Stefan for long, so this kind of news shouldn’t come as such a shock, but…I thought we connected. I thought we were…I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought.
I watch the water gush down the rocks and churn in the pool below.
“Do you even like waterfalls, Stefan?” I ask, flicking my head to look at him.
He frowns at me, and even an expression as bitter as hate is beautiful on him.
“Of course I do.” His eyebrows smooth out and, dare I say, he looks hurt. “You don’t trust me?”
I cut my eyes. “Don’t take it personally. You know, you and Christiano are—”
“Don’t ever put me in the same sentence as your fiancé.”
He stomps forward, forcing me to back step until he’s pressed me against an awkward stone. Its sharp edges dig into my spine but there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel Stefan’s heartbeat pounding as fast as mine, and the silence between us is charged with electricity, stirring a tingling at the centre of my stomach. It radiates south, pooling between my thighs.
I swallow hard, forcing confidence back into my voice. “He’s not my fiancé.”
“Prove it to me.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Prove it to you?”
“To me.”
Stefan holds up a ring—my engagement ring. I gasp, shocked, and stare at its beautiful blue sapphire. I completely forgot that he took it off of my finger the night he entered my home. He holds the ring out and expects me to take it. I don’t. I don’t want to touch it ever again.
“What do you want me to do with it?”
“Whatever you want.”
Whatever I want? Stefan’s irises turn black and I understand what he wants me to do. I take the ring. He steps back, giving me space to breathe. Whatever space he gives me, though, isn’t enough. I need more. I need a whole football field of space. What the hell am I going to do?
I peer down at the ring. I dread the look of it and what it represents.
Imprisonment.
Conventionality.
The end of my life.
I turn toward the waterfall. As far as I’m concerned, I have two choices. I can forget everything I’ve done so far in my life and start fresh somewhere else—with Stefan—for the sake of Moretti. Or I can choose Christiano and take a bullet to the back of the head.
I don’t want either. I really don’t.
“Throw it away,” Stefan says. “Or don’t.”
I hear the threat in his tone. Throw it away and live longer or don’t…and suffer the consequences. For the sake of the moment, to cloak the dense cloud of uncertainty in my chest, I toss the ring over the edge of the fence and into the pool below.
That’s it. The end of an era.
Stefan grips my shoulders and plants a gentle kiss on the back of my head.
“Let’s go,” he utters into my hair.
I nod and follow him back the way we came. I don’t speak to him and he knows I’m upset. There’s no coming back from what I just did.
Stefan doesn’t try to touch me or push me into conversation as we walk. He just ignores me. Like Christiano would.
I get the feeling tossing that ring was the final thing on Stefan’s agenda today and strangely…that hurts me. I feel used. I feel…confused. I don’t know if what Stefan and I shared at the waterfall was real. I don’t know if any of this is real…
I guess only time will tell.
Chapter Fourteen
∞ Four Weeks Later ∞
∞ Cammie Connors ∞
The following few weeks with Stefan are interesting, to say the least. Some days we barely talk and others, well, we can’t seem to go a second without each other. Though we’ve tested the water with flirting and passing touches, he hasn’t touched me sexually because he’s scared he’ll re-open my wounds. Personally, I feel great. No more tenderness, and the scars are coming along well. I can sit, stand, lay down, and even jump without pain. I no longer take antibiotics or painkillers, and I’ve even rid myself of the need for Ritalin and Xanax. I’m a new woman.
I feel better than I’ve ever felt. For years I’ve been swimming against Christiano’s strong current and I didn’t realise how tired I was until Stefan took me away from it all.
According to Stefan, the hospital thinks I quit without telling them, and they’re pedalling forward without me just fine. It hurts, but what can I do? I can never go back there. I’m down to two options. Give up my life and become Christiano’s shadow…or give up my life and become Stefan’s.
Stefan spends most nights locked up in his room away from me, or in the city with Moretti. He usually returns smelling of whiskey, cigars, and women’s perfume, though he swears it’s not from fooling around. He says women flock to him, but he turns them away. Not that that’s any of my business. If you ask me, I think Stefan is afraid of me. I think he’s afraid of how I make him feel. I can see him struggling to keep me at a distance, especially when I go out of my way to come in close. It’s not even about sex. I just want…I want comfort. I want companionship. I just want someone to hold me and tell me what I should do. That’s what I’m used to.
Stefan and I spoke about what happened at the waterfall a few days after. To my surprise, he understood where I was coming from and went above and beyond to assure me that everything we shared on that day was one hundred
Huffing, I kick the blankets off and stretch my limbs. How am I supposed to sleep when all I do is lounge about and nap all day, anyway? It’s early. At least three a.m. I wonder if Stefan is home yet. The last few nights he’s gone to Moretti’s he hasn’t returned until the sun is up. The later he gets in, the longer he sleeps, and it is so boring here when I’m entertaining myself. I haven’t even been able to use the pool because his dogs growl and bark as soon as I get close to the back door. I haven’t grown the balls to face them by myself yet.
Trying my luck, I slip from my bed and tiptoe down the hall. I pause in front of his door and wait. I don’t hear anything. I lean closer, pressing my ear to the wood. Very faintly, I hear the hum of a ceiling fan.
“Stefan?” I whisper, knocking. I grab the handle, turn it quietly, and gently inch open the door. “Stefan?”
He groans as I slip my head into his room. “What is it?”
His bedroom smells clean, like fresh soap and scented moisturiser.
“Are you awake?”
Stefan sighs and I hear him toss a pillow somewhere. “I am now.”
I push the door open further and creep in, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. I’ve never been inside his room before, but if it’s anything like the rest of the house, then it’s sparse.
“I can’t sleep,” I tell him as I make my way across the room. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I can just make out the outline of his gigantic bed.
“Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, and I see his silhouette as he sits up, puffs his pillow, and lays back down.
“I don’t know.” I reach out in front of me and press my hands to his mattress. The sheets are satin and they cool my heated skin. What’s the temperature outside, anyway? The sun isn’t out, but the air is muggy and heavy. It clings to my skin and warms the back of my neck. “I’m just not tired.”
“What do you want me to do?” he asks.
His voice is gentle, but cautious. It’s a tone that’s a world away from the lusty groans of yesterday morning when he pressed his body against mine in the kitchen while I made coffee. He cracks every now and then, showing me just how bad he wants me, but it doesn’t take him long to pull himself back together. Now, like I’ve said, I’m no detective, but I’m smart enough to put two and two together. I think Stefan’s pain-filled resistance to me seems to have something to do with Moretti. I don’t think he wants us to get involved with each other.
Maybe there’s a good reason for that…
…and maybe there isn’t.
To be honest, I haven’t thought about it much. I’m kind of glad Stefan hasn’t forced himself on me in the ways I’ve been fantasising about. I’m scattered at the moment, and sex with him will only make things more complicated. I’m not the kind of girl that can indulge in a sexual relationship on a casual basis. I like connection.
Emotion.
I fall hard or not at all. That’s just who I am.
Moretti has plans for me. I don’t know what they are, but I can’t shake the feeling of impending doom in my chest.
Bending my knees, I lower myself to the bed, resting on my elbows. They’re caressed by the satin as they sink into the soft mattress. “Do you think I could go for a walk?”
“It’s three in the morning.”
Straightening myself, I push hair off the back of my neck. “I know, but I can’t sleep.”
Silence falls as he contemplates my request. I know it’s annoying, but it’s his fault. If he tied his dogs up, or did something else with them, I could walk without disrupting him anytime I please.
Eventually, Stefan exhales. “Go on, then.”
Excitement flares, but Stefan doesn’t move. I smack the bed. “I can’t go by myself. Your dogs hate me, remember?”
“They don’t hate you.”
I roll my eyes. They most certainly do hate me. Romeo and Juliet, ridiculous names for vicious Rottweilers by the way, bare their teeth at me. They growl, drool, and clench their bodies. I’m no animal behavioural expert, but that isn’t a good thing.
“If I can just have twenty minutes of your time, please. Then you can go back to bed.”
Groaning, Stefan rolls in his bed before tossing off his blankets. “Fine. Twenty minutes.”
Grinning, I bounce toward the door and slip out into the hall. I wait for Stefan by the back door where his dogs are planted, growling at me. Like usual.
The sound of sneakers screech against the tiles as Stefan slips into a pair of shoes somewhere in the hall. I wait patiently, listening to the patter of his soles. He flicks the bright hallway light on and I recoil from it with a huff, scrunching my face and closing one eye.
My irritation is immediately chased away by the sight of him as he steps out into the sitting room without a shirt, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. I swallow, an attempt to moisten my dry mouth. With a large hand, he swipes at his face and drags himself across the space. He looks good. Even when he’s tired.
Without a word, he unlocks the back door and steps out. His dogs back up with glee, wagging their stumpy tails, their growls of death morphing into grunts of excitement. I follow closely behind Stefan, my chest an inch from pressing against his back in fear of his dogs. Unexpectedly, Stefan sidesteps me. The smaller one, Juliet, goes with him, clinging to his legs like glue, but the bigger one, Romeo, decides he’d rather stay with me. I squeeze my hands together, drawing them into my chest. I turn my body away from Romeo and his short black and gold snout. He sniffs around my feet, his warm breath tickling my skin. My chest constricts as my long hair falls into my face.
“Stefan…”
“Just relax,” he tells me and leans against a stone column that supports the structure of the roof above us.
Romeo circles me before plonking his butt on the concrete at my feet. I stare at the back of his head, expecting him to move suddenly. He doesn’t. He waits, patiently for me to…I don’t know. Pet him? I glance at Stefan and he flicks his head.
“Go on.”
“I don’t know…” I lower my hands from my chest. “On the head?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
Swallowing hard, I reach out and touch the dog on the head. He snaps his head up and I snatch my hand away, my heart thundering in my chest. Over the pounding of my heart in my ears, I hear Stefan laugh. Romeo, however, is not impressed with my lame attempt. He shuffles back and pants, waiting. I reach out again and touch his head with the tips of my fingers. This time, he makes no sudden movements. In fact, I think he enjoys it. I smooth the palm of my hand over the top of Romeo’s skull and smile at Stefan. This is the closest I’ve ever come to a dog. Christiano’s five Dobermans, Barry, Arthur, Bruce, Hal, and Vic aren’t allowed to be petted. He keeps them fenced off and the gate only opens when there’s a security threat or if Christiano takes them with him to “do business.” It’s sad, actually.
“See? He’s not so bad,” Stefan announces, grinning victoriously.
No. I guess he isn’t. “How long have you had them?”
“Since they were puppies.”
“You bought them at a store?”
“Not quite.” He lowers his eyebrows until they hover over his eyes like angry clouds. “Their original owner was a target of mine. Couldn’t bring myself to leave them all alone.”
My expression flickers between a smile and a frown. “I don’t know if I should find that disturbing or sweet.” I flinch as Romeo jumps up and rushes over to Stefan, joining Juliet at his feet. “Is that why their tails are like that? Did their previous owner cut them? Or did you—”
“I didn’t do it to them.” Stefan crosses his muscular arms over his bare chest. He’s much like his dogs. Broad, strong, and scary. “Are you gonna walk or can I go back to bed now?”
I move toward the stairs, my bare feet cooling against the concrete. The grass is soft and prickle-less, a nice feeling on feet that have only touched
A tennis ball rushes past me and I jump with a squeal as the two large dogs follow, zooming faster than I ever thought possible. I stop and glance over my shoulder as Stefan laughs, a beautiful, deep, rich rumble. He saunters up beside me and nudges me forward.
I walk with him, keeping a close eye on Romeo and Juliet, who chase each other back and forth along the back fence. Peering at the house over my shoulder, I can see it in its entirety and it is breathtaking with its light and dark stonework and full length glass windows.
“You have a beautiful home,” I say, looking back to my feet.
In comparison to Stefan, my skin glows under the moon. That day at the waterfall has been the only time the rays of the sun have kissed my skin since this whole ordeal began and I miss it.
He glances back at his house. “Thank you.”
“How much time do you spend here?”
Our arms brush and I try not to let it get to me, but I can’t help the surge of bubbles as they fizzle along my skin. “Not nearly enough.”
I open my mouth to ask why, but his phone rings, filling the dead of the night with an annoying, factory set tune. Cursing, he fishes it out of his pocket and looks at the screen. I try not to be nosy, but my stare flickers to his screen regardless.
Moretti is calling him.
Stefan waits for the call to end and I see that he’s missed thirty-three calls from Moretti in total tonight. What could he possibly want?
I avert my attention as Stefan stuffs the phone back into his pocket.
“Should you call him back?”
In the moonlight, I see Stefan’s jaw tighten. “Tomorrow.”
We walk for ages. Until the sky brightens a few shades. We’ve circled the backyard at least twenty times and, after Stefan yawns for the umpteenth time, he stops walking. “Are you tired yet?”