Page 5 of Felix

“Let me know if there is anything else you require.” The owner’s smile spreads across his face, revealing a glimmer of white teeth.

“Will do,” I mutter absentmindedly, twirling my fork through the plate of spaghetti. The savoury aroma of garlic and tomato sauce fills my nostrils as I contemplate the job that awaits me tonight. My target—a detestable paedophile worth nothing but pain and suffering. But someone has paid me a hefty sum of fifty grand to ensure justice is served.

Every muscle in my body tenses with excitement at the thought of this job. It’s not often I get truly exhilarated, but this one is different. Just thinking about hanging the cold-hearted bastard from hooks and slowly stripping away his skin sends a chill down my spine. I can feel myself hardening at the anticipation of the blood-soaked night ahead. My heart races with adrenaline as I imagine every detail of the gruesome scene, from the sound of flesh tearing to the scent of coppery blood filling the air. This is no ordinary job. It’s a thrilling chance to unleash all my pent-up rage and let loose in a moment of violent retribution.

When I finish my pasta, I stand and walk towards the front door. The owner bids me goodbye, his voice a warm and familiar comfort in this cold world. As my hand reaches for the brass handle, ready to embark on my dark task, a sudden collision knocks into my chest. A small, delicate woman has barrelled into me with force. She is stunning, her features a mix of softness and strength. My instincts kick in, and my hand tightly wraps around her neck as I pull her closer. Her scent invades my senses, a heady mixture of wildflowers and fear that sends shivers down my spine. It’s an intoxicating blend, fuelling my twisted desires. I can’t resist the urge to run my tongue along the side of her face, eager to taste if she matches the alluring aroma surrounding her.

“Fuck me, darling,” I growl, my voice a low and menacing rumble. She stands before me, the embodiment of beauty. Her dark hair cascades in waves around her delicate face, and her wide, doe-like eyes are filled with terror, but I can’t help but be captivated by their depth and vulnerability. Maybe fate has brought us together, or perhaps it’s just another twisted game played by life. But one thing is certain—she belongs to me now. My darling. And nothing will ever come between us.

Chapter Four

Aurora Henry

“Damn, this city isn’t what it used to be,” I mutter to myself, taking in the streets around me. The old shops I passed by every day when I lived here are long gone, replaced with flashy new ones, all trying to outdo each other. It’s like a fucking competition.

I’ve been away for years, but it feels like a lifetime. And now that I’m back, I can’t help but feel like an outsider. Maybe it’s because of the shit I’ve been through, or perhaps this city doesn’t have room for someone like me anymore.

Stepping up to the Italian restaurant, I reach for the door, ready to lose myself in a big plate of pasta and pretend everything is fine. But as soon as I open the door and step inside, I run into a large, hard chest. Caught off-guard, I gasp, and before I know it, a hand instantly grabs me by the throat and squeezes tightly.

“Wha…” I choke out, struggling to breathe. My heart slams against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape, fear flooding my veins.

“Fuck me, darling,” the deep, menacing voice growls in my ear. His hand tightens around my throat as I look up at him. He’s beautiful—dangerously so. A scar runs across his throat like someone tried to slit it. Tattoos decorate his hands and neck, disappearing under his casual suit. His hair is dark, styled messy, and those dark eyes look like they’re hiding a shit ton of secrets.

“What’s your name?” he asks, running his tongue up the side of my face, tasting me. He takes in large lungfuls of my scent like some goddamn predator.

My legs feel like they’re about to give out from fear, but fuck if my pussy doesn’t clench at this man’s intense stare. Traitorous body.

“None of your goddamn business,” I snarl back, refusing to let my fear show. I won’t let this twisted stranger dominate me.

“Feisty. I like that.” He grins.

“Fine, Aurora-fucking-Henry,” I spit out, my voice shaking despite the bravado. He grins, and it sends a shudder down my spine.

“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear, his hand snaking around my lower back to steady me as my legs threaten to give out. I stiffen at his touch, but there’s no denying the heat surging through me at the contact. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Let go of me, you bastard,” I growl, trying to twist away from him. But he doesn’t budge, instead running his thumb over my bottom lip in a sickeningly intimate gesture.

“Name’s Felix,” he murmurs, and I can feel the warmth ofhis breath against my cheek. “And rest assured, sweetheart, I’ll be calling you soon.”

My heart pounds in my chest, fear and rage warring for control as he saunters out of the shop like he hasn’t just shattered my world.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, taking deep gulps of air as I try to steady myself. My hands shake, and I ball them into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms to ground myself in the pain. How could one man have such an effect on me? I’m supposed to be stronger than this, aren’t I?

“Get your shit together, Aurora,” I hiss to myself, forcing me to focus on anything other than the man who just walked out of my life, but not before leaving a mark that went deeper than any of my tattoos. It’s going to take more than a pretty face and a few rough words to break me, even if the thought of what else he might be capable of sends a thrill of excitement through me that I can’t quite ignore.

“Fuck, why am I so…?” My words trail off as I realise how wet I am. My undies are soaked through as if I’ve just lost control, betraying me like some horny teenager. Anger flares inside me, mixed with an unhealthy dose of lust. How could he do this to me? What kind of twisted shit is this?

Imagine what he’d do with more time, I think, biting my lip. The thought terrifies me, but I can’t deny that it also excites me. I don’t want to be weak, but something about his aggressive nature calls to the darkness within me. And I fucking hate it.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest. The Italian restaurant’s warmatmosphere now feels suffocating as I stumble to the restroom, needing a moment of privacy to collect myself.

I lock the door behind me and lean against it, trying to catch my breath. That motherfucker, Felix—goddammit. His audacity to walk away like that leaves me reeling and craving more at the same time. I glance down at my trembling hands, cursing under my breath.

“Get your shit together, woman.” I scowl at my reflection in the mirror. “Don’t let that bastard get to you.” But despite my determination, I can’t help but wonder what he would do if he had more than three minutes with me. What kind of power does he have over me? Perhaps even more unnerving, what am I capable of when faced with that power?

“Fuck,” I growl, splashing cold water on my face.

Yet, as I walk back into the restaurant and choose a table, trying to focus on the comforting smells of garlic and tomato sauce, I can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning. And a part of me—a dark, twisted part I’ve tried so hard to bury—is eager for whatever comes next.

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