❌WARNING: MATURE CONTENT❌
27 year old Archer Stark is an assassin, he works for no one besides himself, and one night he's sent to kill a girl.
24 year old Violet Moon is a Socialite, she's a trophy wife rich girl, and she had no idea she was on som...
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—————————————————— Violet Moon had a pounding headache as her eyes fluttered open.
She groaned and sat up taking in her surroundings. She knitted her eyebrows together confused as she took in the luxurious bedroom and large bed she was sitting in.
She was laying in satin sheets and fresh soft pajamas. Did she get wasted last night and her husband brought her to a hotel?
Suddenly the memories of last night came flooding back and her heart started beating.
She sat up quickly and alertly pulling the satin sheetnup to cover her body like it would protect her somehow.
She looked up at the canopy over the bed then her eyes fell on a man, no the man from last night, sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.
She gasped, "Who are you."
The man with midnight black hair, tattoos scattered all over his body, and shattered emerald green eyes groaned and stood up. His face looked dead and intense, no emotion was on his face.
"Well, I suppose since you're going to be sticking around I should tell you my name. Congratulations now two people know it." He clapped a couple times very slowly. With each clap she winced and shivered back into the bed.
"My names Archer Stark, I'm an assassin and you're dead." He spoke in a deep gruff voice and dragged the chair with him as he walked over to her bed. He spun it around and straddled the backwards chair.
He folded his arms over the top and leaned his head down on his forearms. She looked at him wide eyed and like a frightened cornered bunny.
"Well you're not actually dead. You should be, to the rest of the world you're a runway." He said casually in his deep voice.
Her lips parted but she was almost to afraid to form words. "B-But"
"Oh yes I'm sure you're confused. Well, it turns out your husband was the one that wanted you dead and six feet under, because he's covering up your death as you ran away. There was even a note and everything. Gasp." He yawned and gave her a lackluster excited face his words dripping in forced enthusiasm.
Did he really just say the word gasp? She thought.
"You're lying....and you're crazy." She stuttered our moving farther away from him on the bed.
"Crazy? Definitely....Lying? No. Here see for yourself if you want." He grabbed an iPad off the dresser and opened it up.
He tapped at for a few moments before dropping it on the bed by her. She flinched slightly before she tentatively reached for it.
Her wide eyes scrolled down google scanning over all the plentiful articles about the perfect wife and woman runaway.
