The world thinks she's dead, purely so she could become her fathers ultimate & deadliest weapon.
Armed with a new alias & a fearless attitude Gabriella Valentino goes undercover in enemy quarters to avenge her mothers death once and for all.
She's...
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C H A P T E R T W E N T Y O N E
Time stood still as we stared at one another in silence, his gaze subsequently pointed towards my gun and then landed back on my brown eyes, and mine mirrored his exactly.
"Did Daria hire you?" He asked finally, the surprise not lost in his voice.
I did a quick scan of the room around us, spying all of the bodies we took down together. "You think I would take down my own men?"
"Fuck!" He cussed loudly. "Valentino? CIA? FBI?" I shook my head, not daring to give him an actual answer in case he saw through the truth of it. "Then who?"
"I told you, I work alone." I answered.
"What do you want with me?" He tightened his grip around the silver gun in his hand, ready to use it.
That question opened up an endless possibility answer. What did I want with Ace? I wanted him to lick me, to stick his tongue inside me and swirl it around until I combust. I wanted to feel his kiss against my clitoris, soft but rough. I wanted his hands on my breasts, teasing my nipples as I shattered around him, screaming out his name in the loudest possible volume.
But I also wanted to kill him in the most brutal way, make him suffer like his father made us suffer. I wanted to make my family proud by succeeding in the mission my father entrusted me with and finally avenge my mother's death.
But beyond that, I wanted him to stay around. I think I would miss him if he wasn't here. I would miss the excitement I felt whenever he walked into a room, I would miss the adrenaline he made rush through me whenever he gave me a threat or a sexual promise. I would miss his smell, it's a clean smell, one of masculinity and violence. Like gunpowder and leather mixed with something sweet, like cookies.
But regardless of all of that, here I was, three feet away from putting a bullet-sized hole in his skull.
"Well? What the fuck do you want with me Red?" He demanded, aggressive in tone and nature. His grip around the gun tightened.
Shoot first, ask questions later. Pull the trigger before they do.
I changed direction of my gun and pressed down on the trigger, letting the sharp impact of my shot knock me back ever so slightly. In the matter of seconds a 9mm, semi-rimless silver bullet broke through the air partials and landed cleanly just below Aces other shoulder.
Slowly his head looked down at his arm, an ever-growing patch of blood staining the white cotton of his dress shirt. He gritted his teeth together and used his nose to breathe through his pain.
"Ahh! What the fuck Red!" He hissed. "Why did you do that?" He yelled, clutching his bleeding arm.
"You pointed your gun at me."
"You just shoot anyone that points a gun at you?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
My finger was ready again resting on the trigger, he fought through his pain and pounced on me.
