XIV

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"I want to take that knife in your pocket and slit my throat. Hopefully, I'll spray blood all over those annoying ass girls next to us."

My lips brushed Ashton's ear as I spoke to him over the thumping music of the club. The VIP section was just as crowded as the regular part of the club making me feel incredibly annoyed. Getting Victor Samarin's attention just got significantly harder. The three girls at the table next to us were beyond wasted and their high pitch voices seemed to reach my eardrums better than anything else in the club. It was like some sort of echolocation frequency they had magically hit for the sole purpose of drilling their shrieks into my head.

Ashton let out a deep, throaty laugh, thoroughly enjoying my misery. "I don't think Potvin will accept your head instead of Samarin's hand."

"I'll make him accept Samarin's dismembered dick at this rate," I grumbled.

"Let's not talk about dismembering dicks while you're sitting on my lap," Ashton murmured in my ear.

Yep, you heard him right. I was currently sitting on Ashton's lap on a couch in a club with his hand on my ass. I would have rolled my eyes but I didn't want to jeopardize the mission. This was all too predictable. The only good thing that could possibly come out of this would be Ashton realizing his undying attraction to me and having that somehow manifest itself in the form of Ashton doing everything I wanted him to do with no questions asked.

Fat chance.

My eyes locked on a white-haired man that looked identical to the one Ashton had shown me a photo off. He was sitting on a nearby couch surrounded by a hoard of girls that looked to be barely of age. Victor had to be in his early thirties but his hair made him a silver fox, and honestly, it kind of worked. I automatically knew Potvin wanted his left hand; it had an intricate greyscale snake covering the back of it. That would be hard to fake, making it the perfect identifier for Potvin to ensure his rival gang boss was taken care of.

My eyes turned away from the brute just in time, because I automatically felt the weight of his gaze on my body, his attention probably being tripped by the feeling of my eyes on him. "He's looking at us," I murmured in Ashton's ear. "Time to turn it up a notch."Ashton's large, warm hand left my ass, slowly running over the curve of my hip and my waist before stopping at my breast, covered by a tight black dress with a low cut. I knew it was coming, so I wasn't surprised when Ashton's hand fondled my right breast, but it did surprise me how much I found myself enjoying his firey touch.

On instinct, my eyes fluttered for a second along with my usually flat breathing. I prayed he didn't hear how much his touch affected me but even I knew that was a fruitless sentiment. The attractive Arab was too observant for it to have escaped his notice, even in a raging club.His soft lips ran along my jaw before they brushed my ear, his breath tickling my skin in a sickeningly sweet way. It was more intoxicating than the glass of wine I had to drink an hour ago. Ashton moved his grip on my breast to my cleavage, his slim fingers lightly dancing across where my nipple was situated under my bra. Unbeknownst to the skilled infantryman, that move caused my nipples to tighten in aching desperation.

Control yourself, Athena. This is a job.

Two of his fingers dipped into my neckline, pulling out the three one-thousand ruble bills we had planted earlier. Ashton's piercing sapphire eyes left my body to look at the money, making sure Adamovich saw it, before tucking it into his dress shirt's pocket.For the second time in less than two months, my job required Ashton to wrap his hand around my exposed neck.

The only difference was this time I was expecting it, and there wasn't nearly as much pressure. "If this doesn't convince him I'm your pimp then I honestly am going to take the knife you wanted and slit my own throat first. You can deal with the aftermath," Ashton told me while looking like he was berating me for not making enough money. His vibrant gem-like eyes were furious and his defined muscles tight, red marks probably appearing under his tanned hand on my neck, but his voice was as friendly as ever. It was on odd combination to get used to, to say the least.

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