The office was dead silent except for the sound of my heels on the carpet. I stopped my legs in front of the wooden desk where Potvin sat, looking up at me with hungry eyes. My right hand dropped the decapitated body part with the snake on it right in the middle of the dark wood, blood staining the papers still on Potvin's desk. My eyes were as hard as lead bullets and my jaw set. I could feel the eyes of the two cronies on either side of Potvin staring at the blood splatter on my cleavage.
This was the bitch he insulted the second he met her.
Cower in fear. I wasn't someone to be fucked with.
"You expect me to think you cut that off?" Potvin laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen, looking pointedly at Ashton who's arms were crossed over his chest a foot or two back. "What did you do, Princess? Suck his dick?"
I flexed my jaw in annoyance. "He's not the one with blood on him. I can recreate how I killed Samarin if you want to volunteer," I sneered with all the hatred in my blood boiling to the surface. "We did your bidding, so let's talk business."
"When are we getting our documents?" Ashton asked in a much less aggressive but terrifyingly impassive tone. He was probably the only person in the world who's flat tone and blank face was scarier than his rage.
"We're not done here," Potvin smiled mirthfully, entwining his fingers and setting them on the desk, just behind the corpse hand. "You're asking for some very high-quality work. I need to make sure I'm not wasting favors on amateurs. Do one more thing for me tonight, and I'll send out for the documents and passports. Then when they come in, I have one more favor. After that, we can all be on our merry way until we need each other again."
"Amateurs?" I spat in heavy Russian. If only he knew the most dangerous people in the world were standing in front of him. No one was more ruthless or lethal than us. No one even had the abilities to even attempt to be on our level. We were crafted from the most elite forces in the world and forged in a pain most people couldn't even begin to understand. "You realize we are steeling the some of the biggest military secrets in the world, correct?"
"Watch your tone, Girl. Does someone need to teach you another lesson? Because I can more than easily arrange that." The threat in his voice was unmistakable. Try and put a bullet between my eyes. I dare you.
"That's what I thought," Potvin clicked his tongue and smiled ruefully. He barely had to raise his right hand before the brunette with the buzz cut behind him handed the Bravata boss a manila folder. "Jacs Klein, twenty-three, and a real pain in my ass. He's a fed or he's part of a rival gang. I don't have enough intelligence because he's too slippery. That's where you two come in."
Potvin flipped oven the folder to reveal a blonde with a narrow, oval-shaped head with high cheekbones and a softer jaw. His eyebrows were more or less flat, with his hair long enough to create a curve at the top. Instantaneously he reminded me of a blonde Bill Skarsgård. The picture was slightly blurry in a dark parking lot, taken from a distance, most likely in a car. Jacs was hunched over wearing a leather jacket, lighting a cigarette while facing a man covered in shadows next to a warehouse looking building.
"He's been snooping around territory he shouldn't be. My sources tell me he's at the Phoenix club as we speak. Find him, figure out who he's working for, and get rid of his body. I don't want him to be found. Understood?"
I didn't even get to respond before the file was snapped shut and taken from Ashton and I's view.
And that's the short story of how I ended up in my third club of the night by eleven, my chest cleaned of the blood previously on it and my makeup touched up. I sat on a stool at the bar, holding a half-empty glass of bourbon on the rocks. I wouldn't drink it. Hell, I hadn't even drunk the first half; I had Ashton do it. He stood right next to me, his large hand on my upper thigh as he faced me.
