Page 7 of Vendetta

“You have your wants and I have mine.” She says so demurely, so matter of fact that my dick comes to life, hardens under the tightness of my pants. No woman talks to me like this. There’s no game playing, no suggestions. She’s so fucking perfect.

“Tell me.” I say. My legs are still spread, if she chose to look she’d see the effect she’s having on me and by god do I want her to. I want to grab that pouty little mouth of hers, shove her face hard into my crotch and let her feel exactly what she’s doing.

“This man.” She replies sliding the tatty photo towards me. “I want him dead.”

I narrow my eyes glancing down at it. I don’t know him. I don’t recognise him. Not that I expected to but I feel a flash of something akin to jealousy at the thought that this could be an ex. Some past lover she’s decided to get revenge on.

“Who is he?”

Her

Ilook at the image only briefly. I’ve stared at that photo for so long. It still surprises me that I had the nerve to take it. That after recognising him I had the balls to follow him. Figure out what decrepit little spaces of this city he occupies and then sneak back one day to take this. To record his face.

Of course I’d planned to get my revenge myself. I’d dreamt about it over and over. Of gutting the man. Of burying a knife so deep into his chest it came out the other side.

Only I’m not stupid enough to think I’d get close because he’d see me. They all would. Everyone sees me. Everyone stares.

They see my body first despite my best efforts to hide it and then they look at my face expecting to see a beauty and instead are met with horror.

“Who is he?”

I look up meeting his eyes. There’s something there. Something in them. Is he annoyed? Angry even that I’m not just laying over for him. That I’ve asked for something in return as if his attention isn’t enough for me.

“He’s the one who destroyed my face.” I say.

His eyebrows raise and he looks back down, picks up the photo and a smile that should send a shiver through me creeps across his lips.

“You want your dues darling?” He says.

“Yes.”

He looks at me murmuring something under his breath and for a moment I take his face in. The hard lines. The thick brows. The scar that traces along his cheek that should make him ugly too only it doesn’t. It enhances his appearance.

“Deal.” He says pocketing the photo, getting to his feet and moving round towards me.

My fear lurches, just for a second as his hand grasps my arm pulling me to my feet.

The bar is filling up. Punters are starting to pour in and the other girls are watching whatever is happening between me and their boss with more than a little curiosity.

“Let’s go.” He says tugging me along.

“Where?”

He doesn’t reply. It’s almost as if he doesn’t hear me. We’re out the bar in seconds. His men are behind us. Ahead his blacked out SUV is humming and I can see a man stood by the open door waiting for his master.

“Where are we going?” I ask trying to stop. Trying to get some sort of control.

“You made a deal darling. We both have our ends to keep.”

He nods to the chauffeur who makes a point of not looking at me and Nico tells me to get in. As I half clamber over the leather seats I wonder if I’ve made a mistake, a terrible, terrible misjudgement about this man.

I know he’s dangerous. I know he runs the mob. He literally controls this entire city and now I’ve given myself to him like an idiot. I’m shaking before I can stop myself. Any attempt at pretence is gone.

He gets in beside me and watches me for a moment.

“Are you scared Eleri?” He asks.

I nod. There’s no use in lying to him. He’s not an idiot and the way he’s staring at my throat suggests he can read my body well enough.

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