Page 68 of Eternal

I stay silent for a moment, running a finger over my mouth.

"Yes. Travel safely."

I fucking hate pedophiles.

Seems like Germany has a plethora of them, as well as high-paying clients to witness the heir to the Astor name work with their own eyes. But the only client I take on is one that's supported me since my start.

The man in front of me groans and screams at me in German. Something about how I'm a pig fucker or something to that effect. I'm barely registering words as my knife slices and slashes over his body. Sparks of adrenaline flood me with each one and every thought washes away with his blood in the drain.

"Alright, I'm done with you toying with him. End him. I have a lunch date to go to," My customer instructs, crossing his arms over his chest.

I grit my teeth, plunging the knife into his chest over and over until I'm covered in blood.

"Good. My assistant has already wired the money over to you. By the way, I heard you got married. Congratulations. But something tells me your dickhead father had something to do with it." Walter states as if he's already heard Freya and I's story. We start walking towards the exit of the room.

I let out a curt laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

"What? Are you not happy in your marriage?" Walter stops in his tracks right before the door.

"I mean. Would you be?" I retort.

Truth is, I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life despite not hearing my wife tell me she loves me.

Walter's eyes soften to one that I would expect a good father to have when he's about to give advice.

"You know, Barbara and I were an arranged marriage. Actually, she was engaged to someone else when we were told we were to be wed." Walter informs me. "It took about a year for us to not scream at each other anytime we had to communicate." He laughs.

My eyebrows furrow together, "Can I ask you a personal question?" I ask slowly.

"Anything," Walter responds immediately.

"How did you get her to fall in love with you?"

Walter looks down at the floor pensively, "It wasn't easy. It was a lot of work, for both of us. We argued every time we were in the same room with each other for the first year until I just got sick of it. I was the first to cave, and actively make changes in our relationship. I didn't want to be like the other couples in our world. I wanted to be married to my best friend. I wanted a relationship with someone that I knew I could trust, and they would trust me. But how did I get her to fall in love with me? Erm. I communicated every emotion, thought, and everywhere I went. I brought her gifts, and showed her kindness she's never really received before. That trust turned into love. You, kids, have only been married for what? Two months tops? I'd say if you aren't screaming at each other every day right about now, you're in a much better spot than my wife and I were then." Walter finishes.

I nod my head, "Thank you."

He offers me a curt nod, "I'm sure we will be in touch soon. Just think about what I said."

With that, he walks out the door swiftly, leaving me alone.

The only two people who have ever shown me kindness and love are on their knees with black cloth bags over their heads. My tutor and caregiver since I was sent away.

My dad must smell the fear rolling off of me in waves as he lets out a dark chuckle. "You know why they're here, don't you?"

My eyes shift over to him, "No."

"No? Huh. Dumber than I realized. Seems that they haven't been doing their job." He rips the bags off of their heads.

They're gagged, and start sobbing when they look at me.

"In our line of work, the target will do anything to sink their hooks into any weakness you have. Emotion of any kind is dangerous. Especially love. Love will get you killed." My father circles them, "It's unfortunate you grew too soft. They softened you too much. Therefore, you have to kill them. Slowly. Go grab that rope."

My hands start shaking and tears spill down my cheeks. "They didn't do anything. I can't."

"You will. They ruined you. Look at those sissy fucking tears. Weak. Pathetic!" My dad bellows. "You're too old for those fucking tears. Look at you, wah!" He mocks me.

The shake in my hands calms, and they curl into fists. I want to kill him. I want him to die.

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