Page 33 of Felix

“Really? Why’s that?” Felix asks, his interest piqued.

“Because the book was released over eight months ago. I’ve moved on from it,” I say, sipping my coffee. “I want to write a new one. Maybe I’ll write about an assassin who kidnaps a girl and makes her fall in love with him.”

Felix chuckles, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Sounds like a thrilling story, but be careful. Once you go down that path, there’s no turning back.”

He walks past me, his footsteps loud on the floor. On one hand, he carries a steaming plate of food, its savoury aroma filling my nostrils. With a gentle, unexpected sincerity, he places the plate before me and whispers, “I love you, too, Aurora.” His words wash over me like a warm wave, leaving me stunned and rooted to the spot as he saunters up the staircase, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Wait… what?” I whisper, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. Did Felix Greyson just say he loves me? The man who thrives on violence and control, who’s always lurking in the shadows, just bared his soul to me? My world tilts, and I’m left reeling, trying to make sense of it all.

I bolt up the stairs, my heart racing as I chase after Felix. I can’t let him just drop a bomb like that and disappear. The man’s a freaking enigma, and I need answers.

“Hey!” I shout, catching up to him in the hallway. Myarms fly around his neck from behind, locking into a piggyback hug. “You can’t just say that and run off!”

“Can’t I?” he replies, his voice low and dangerous. He grabs my wrists, yanking me off his back with brute strength. My body slams against the wall, the impact sending jolts of pain through me. His hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my oxygen supply. But the way he does it… it’s all too familiar, awakening a dark craving inside me.

“Say it again,” I demand, gasping for breath, my eyes locked on his.

Felix smirks, leaning in to capture my lips in a rough, possessive kiss. I melt into his touch, my body betraying the fear that should be there. Instead, adrenaline courses through me, fuelling my desire even more.

“Get dressed,” he orders, pulling back and releasing his grip on my throat. “I have jobs to do today, and you’re coming with me.”

“Jobs? What kind of—” I start to ask, but he cuts me off.

“Does it matter, darling?” he says, his voice dripping with menace. “Just get ready.”

My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, the intensity of what just happened still etched in my mind. He walks away, and my thoughts are a tangled mess of confusion and lust. There’s no denying it now—I’m drawn to this man, this assassin who has somehow made me fall head over heels for him.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Felix Greyson

As I button up my jacket, the scent of my cologne mixes with the crisp morning air. Aurora is beside me, her dark eyes scanning the horizon like a hawk.

We slide into the car, the engine growling to life under my foot. The drive is short, the city’s decay blurring past us until we reach Redfern’s skeleton, the building standing like an old bruise on the landscape. I’ve brought her here before—a test of trust or maybe something sicker. I never can tell with me.

“Wait here,” I bark, already halfway out the door. She nods, her face unreadable as I dart into the gaping maw of the building.

Dav is lurking in the shadows, his rat face twitching. “You got it?” I snap, no time for pleasantries.

“Right here, Mr Greyson.” He hands over the bag, bulging with filthy cash, and I’m back out, the stink of mould and piss clinging to my clothes.

She’s there, as still as stone, when I throw myself into the driver’s seat, the bag tossed carelessly on the back seat. We don’t speak as we tear through the streets again, the city’s heartbeat pulsating around us.

Fratelli’s is all warm lights and the promise of garlic and tomatoes. I leave her, engine idling, as I shoulder through the restaurant doors. The place doesn’t open for hours yet, so only Matteo’s workers are inside. I throw the bag on the bench, wave at their faces as they walk out of the kitchen, and walk back out the door.

Back outside, shit hits the fan. Aurora’s stiff, her breath shallow, eyes wide as if she’s staring down the gates of hell. I scan the area—nothing but empty cars and the ghost of trash tumbling across the pavement.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” I say, my hand reaching out to clasp her chin, forcing her gaze away from whatever phantom has got her spooked. “It’s just us. You’re safe.”

But she’s somewhere else, lost in the labyrinth of her mind. My gut twists. I hate seeing her this vulnerable—a caged bird thrashing against memories that claw and peck.

“Tell me what you saw,” I press, needing to rip out the roots of her fear before they strangle her completely.

The silence is a screaming siren in my ears. Aurora’s finger trembles as it points beyond the windscreen, past the fogged glass, to a red Holden Monaro. It’s just sitting there, innocent to anyone else’s eyes, but I know better. “That car,” she breathes, a voice so damn quiet it’s almost lost in the tight space between us. “It set me off.”

“Fuck.” The word is a bullet. I whip my head around,taking in the sleek lines of the Monaro. There’s no mistaking the visceral terror lacing her words. My hands clench into fists, the leather of the steering wheel creaking under the strain.

“Let’s get the hell away from here.” My voice is gravelly, rough with the promise of violence. I slam the car into drive and rev the engine—a feral thing ready to pounce. The car lurches forward as I stomp on the gas, tyres screeching their rage against the asphalt.

---