Black Widow | 18+

23 | For You

Anton

"Did you break into my fucking apartment?!" I heard her shout through the large house. 

Money was a truly fine thing when it bought you a vast yet guarded space to keep an angered, beautiful, but crazy assassin in. 

Especially when she had bounced back from the effects of her sedative within the hour. 

"You're half an hour over the half an hour mark," I called back with disinterest, walking around the large foyer, staring at the Patek Phillipe on my wrist. 

I'd had this place for a while, mainly as an escape. I liked Madrid, and the Mayor was more corrupt than people could imagine but in a very clever way, so I had no problem sliding in here unnoticed alongside the other 'controversial' figures who'd obtained permanent residency. 

It was also good because I had absolutely no desire to open up shop here, I went undetected, and Leo's guys were only ever in Barcelona or the other smaller cities. 

So, yes, this was my safe haven in a way. 

But now I had a lunatic storming around it. 

A lunatic that I loved, a lot. 

I heard an elongated groan being let out from the third floor and I couldn't help but smile with a shake of my head. 

"You're such an asshole, you know that? First of all you kidnap me, and then you break into my apartment!" She called, and I listened as the click of her heels sounded down the marble staircase. 

"You wouldn't have anything to wear if I hadn't of broken in," I replied lazily, my eyes on my phone as I messaged Olik to see how things were. 

"Well, if I didn't have anything to wear then I wouldn't have to go out with you, so it would've been a win-win situation for me." She shot back, her voice becoming less echoed as she got closer. 

"I would've made you max out one of my cards then," I replied, turning around to see her. 

I bit the inside of my cheek, watching as she trailed down the stairs, a venomous look in her eyes. 

The section of her thighs on display, the rest covered by the boots and that thin skirt she wore, grabbed my attention immediately. I'd had my hands on those thighs, between them, trailing up them. 

It had been too long. 

"Eyes here," she muttered, standing face to face with me. I smirked with a shake of my head before taking her hand in mine and leading her to the door. She tried to yank it away but I held it tighter as I pulled her in line with me. "Let go,"

"You'll bolt, I can't be bothered for the added time of getting your ass back in the car." I mused, listening as she muttered profanities to herself. 

We got into the blacked out Range Rover and I watched as she kept her eyes on the driver, like a lion stalking it's prey. 

"Artemisia, stop." I said firmly

She looked over at me, her eyes dark and the rest of her expression void. I could see the assassin in her emerging, and I knew I had to stop giving her the upper hand with my relaxed attitude. 

So, I returned the favour, and got back into my zone. 

I wasn't fucking around, and she knew better than anyone that when I was in this mood, I didn't take shit. 

"Could do this all day Artemisia, your fucking choice." I said lowly, and I watched as her gaze relented slightly and her jaw clenched. 

"I hate you," she said, her tone so calm yet so threatening and truthful.