The Assassins Weakness

Assasin Parties

When the car pulled up to the mansion I began to climb out of the car. Unfortunately Aurora did, too. I managed to grab ahold of her elbow seconds before she face planted into the curb. Before I could do more than that Enzo was nudging me out of the way and lifting her back up. I followed behind them until we were inside the mansion.

"May I be dismissed, sir?" I asked, horrified at the slight Russian accent that crept into my voice.

I excelled at every language and accent I learned. Enzo seemed to hear it, too since he whipped around to face me.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asked.

"We both had nine mixed drinks and two shots, sir," I answered honestly.

"Christ," Enzo cursed, glancing down at his half asleep sister.

"Change into comfortable clothes and I'll come to your room in a moment," he continued.

Shit. My walls were hard to keep up when everything was warm and fuzzy. Regardless, I had to obey. I gave him a 'yes sir', flinching at the slight accent still present, before heading to the room I stayed in.

I stripped out of my clothes and threw on a black baggy sweatshirt and gray baggy sweatpants. I didn't bother to put on lingerie. Any seduction attempts at this point would be sloppy. I stood in the middle of the room until a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in, sir," I called awkwardly.

I wasn't used to having a door people knocked on.

When Enzo walked in his lips twitched with amusement. He said nothing as he went into my bathroom and came back with some type of wipes. I read the disturbingly swimming label to see they were makeup removers. Enzo lead me to the bed before gently pushing me to sit on the edge if it. He sat next to me and began to wipe my face.

"You're hammered right now aren't you," he said in an almost teasing tone.

"Reading and walking are a bit difficult, sir," I admitted with closed eyes.

His featherlight touches were brushing the mascara off me.

"I figured assassins would be against drinking," he mumbled.

"We are, sir."

"Then why are you drunk?" He asked

"Because you told me to make Aurora happy," I stated matter of factly.

He bummed before asking, "Would you always sound like this if you didn't try to mask your accent?"

"Probably worse," I admitted.

Only I tried so hard to hide the accent that I somehow slipped into an American southern accent. A small chuckle escaped Enzo. He leaned back and I heard rustling. I opened my eyes back up to see him grabbing another makeup wipe. I watched him as he brought it up to my lips and rubbed them.

I was glad my mouth was occupied so it couldn't blurt out the thoughts swirling around my mind. Enzo looked sinfully delicious with his gaze focused down. His eyelashes brushed against his cheek and his strong figure was relaxed in a way it shouldn't be around me.

"All done," he announced as he stood from the bed to put the wipes away.

"Thank you, sir," I managed to say.

"For someone who doesn't drink you sure have a strong tolerance," Enzo pointed out, sitting back down besides me.

"I was trained to, sir."

"How does one train for that," he asked, brow quirking.

"You get drunk a lot starting at a young age," I admitted.

"Ah, who knew assassins enjoyed partying," Enzo said with a small smile.

Maybe it was the smile. Maybe it was the way he had spoken so softly to me since coming in the room. Maybe it was the way he had so carefully taken care of me. I found myself opening my mouth to admit something I shouldn't.

"I didn't."

"Didn't what?" He asked.

"Didn't enjoy partying," I confessed.

The way Enzo's gaze held mine I think he realized I was telling him something. Something deeper than my words.

"Why?" He all but whispered.

"Because those were the nights the guards came into our room," I whispered back. "They were scared of us most of the time. They didn't realize the Volkov's didn't care so we wouldn't fight back anyway."

"What did the guards do?" Enzo's whisper scratched against his throat.

"Lots of things. What I hated the most was when they'd grab my elbows and push my face into the bed. It was hard to breathe and it was so scary not knowing who was behind you and what they were going to do next."

Enzo's face had shifted during my confession. Now his face was filled with rage. It felt like a weight settled into my stomach. A weight that was twisting everything the wrong way. I'm so stupid. I'm drunk and stupid.

Enzo told me he could make Dimitri's threats look like child play. Had I finally messed up enough to find out? I can't believe I complained. I can't believe I said anything.

"How old were you?" Enzo asked before I could beg for forgiveness.

"The first time? Fifteen," I answered hoping to calm his anger.

I didn't. His fists clenched at his side.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm really sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?" Burst from my lips.

"What?"

"Should I get a belt?"

Enzo looked incredulous.

"What for?" He asked.

"For my punishment of course, sir."

"What the hell would I need to punish you for?"

"I complained and spoke out of turn, sir" I said hoping I was right.

If I guessed the wrong reason he was angry the punishment will likely be worse.

"I'm not angry at you," he all but ground out.

My body coiled tight as I stared at the obvious rage on him. Was it a test? I quickly sprung up before regretting it as my feet tangled together. Enzo reached out to help steady me but I was already moving for my closet. I grabbed a studded belt and walked back into the room, pulling my sweatshirt over my head as I did.

"Please punish me, sir," I said, holding the belt out to him.