Seduce Me Or Kill Me

2

Silver

The next day arrived with a gray and the sharp scent of rain in the air. It was the day I was supposed to meet my “client.” And by client, I mean the man I was hired to unalive. That’s what Ghost called it. “Unalive,” like death was just another business transaction because for us, it was.

People think someone like me must be broken inside. Maybe I am. I haven’t cried since I was twelve. That was the day Ghost snapped my arm in three places for mourning a fellow trainee who didn’t make it. “No tears,” he’d said. “Crying’s for people who expect to be saved. No one is going to save you, Silver.”

I stopped expecting anything after that.

This was a simple job. Get close, find weakness, and exploit it. I’d done it before, and I’d do it again. You could even say I was a hero, in a twisted kind of way. I didn’t kill innocents, I helped erase the scum that society couldn’t touch and something told me this guy was going to fit right in with the rest of them.

The BMW was parked across the street from HaleTech Tower, all polished with dark windows. I sat in the passenger seat with my legs crossed, one heel tapping against the floor mat. I wore a sleek charcoal skirt with a slit that suggested softness while giving freedom of movement if I needed to run or kill.

A crisp white blouse tucked in neatly, a hint of cleavage, and hair up in a ponytail, but loose strands framed my face just enough to say “approachable.” Mark called it my corporate bait look.

Mark handed me a file. “Your alias is Grace Ellison. You’re interviewing for the executive assistant position. Directly under Luciano Gerard.”

I opened the folder and stared at the man’s photo. The sharp lines of his jaw, the eyes that didn’t quite match the smile like he was halfway into reading your soul and halfway into destroying it. His lips were pressed into a firm line, the kind you see in men who are used to commanding silence in a room.

“He doesn’t look like the type to get his hands dirty,” I muttered, flipping through the dossier.

“He doesn’t have to. He hires people like you for that,” Mark replied.

“Charming.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “He’s just another rich prick in a suit.”

“Someone wants him dead?” I asked, arching a brow.

“Yeah,” Mark said, chewing the corner of his thumbnail. “Apparently he’s made enemies, the high-profile kind. Ghost didn’t say who hired us yet, but he gave the go-ahead to initiate contact.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s the angle?”

“Get close, get his schedule and if needed… seduce him.” Mark said.

I let out a short laugh. “You do realize he has zero public history with women, right?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, his tone dry. “There’s a possibility he’s gay. You still think you can pull this off?”

I opened the door and stepped out. Mark lowered the class and I leaned against the door.

“Mark,” I said smoothly, “I could make a monk forget his vows. A gay man?” I tilted my head, voice low and confident. “Easy.”

He chuckled and stepped on the gas.

“Then welcome to your next mission, Silver. Try not to fall for this one.”

"Oh I won't." I said to myself, "but I can't say the same about him."

The wind kissed my legs as I walked toward the building, every step calculated. I looked like an ambitious young professional. Simple yet Dangerous if you looked close enough.

The receptionist barely looked up when I gave my name. “Mr. Gerard will see you now. Top floor.”

I stepped into the elevator and let my reflection stare back at me in the polished steel. I wasn't nervous the slightest bit.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Luciano Gerard's office was all glass and chrome, but he stood at the far end, by a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a sweeping view of the city. He didn’t turn right away, just kept staring out like the skyline was answering a question I hadn’t asked.

Then he turned and the room temperature dropped a few degrees and for a second, a real second, I forgot how to breathe.

He was beautiful, not just attractive, not just handsome. Beautiful in that rare, jarring way that made your brain stumble trying to process symmetry and sharpness all at once. Dark hair that looked soft even from here. Olive eyes so piercing it felt like they knew every version of you before you spoke.

I didn’t expect that.

He took one look at me, eyes flicking from my face to my shoes and back. Calculating.

You’re early,” he said.

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared,” I replied, sliding into character with practiced ease.

He nodded once and gestured to a chair across from his massive desk. “Let’s get started.”

I sat, folding my legs, feigning calm while my thoughts wrestled the first twinge of unexpected attraction. He wasn’t supposed to look like this, he wasn’t supposed to have eyes that made you question things. This was supposed to be clean, cold, and efficient.

Instead, I found myself studying the way he moved, and the precision of it. Everything about him was controlled, too controlled. No wasted gestures, no nervous tics, just quiet, cool confidence like he didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

He flipped through my résumé without looking up. “You worked at Varrin & Co?”

“For a little over a year,” I said smoothly. “Handled scheduling, travels, and communications. My last employer described me as reliable and discreet.”

"That's what we need here. Discretion."

"Then I would be glad to be of help."

He nodded, then raised his head to look at me. Something had changed. This wasn't going to be your usual interview. He fired the first shot.

“If I asked you to lie for me, would you do it?”

Straight to it, no icebreaker. No “Tell me about yourself.”

I smiled politely. “Depends on the lie.”

“What if it was to save the company?”

I crossed my legs, adjusting my skirt. “Then I’d consider what’s more valuable, the company, or my integrity and since I’d be working for you, I imagine the two should align.”

He sat.

That look in his eyes deepened. “What if your integrity cost me millions?”

I leaned forward, resting my hands on the edge of his desk. “Then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

He tilted his head. “You’re bold.”

“I’m honest.”

“I didn’t ask for honesty.”

“And yet here we are.”

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something called annoyance or amusement? I couldn’t tell. Then came another barrage:

“Three jobs in five years. Do you get bored easily?”

“No,” I said, holding his gaze. “I get underestimated easily. There’s a difference.”

“And how long before you get bored here?”

“Depends on whether you’re as difficult to work for as they say.”

He actually laughed at that, dry, and humorless. “Is that what they say?”

“It’s what I heard.”

He paused and studied me. “And you still applied?”

“I’m not afraid of difficult men.”

His jaw tensed, just slightly.

Then the tone shifted. He went silent for a beat too long, then asked:

“If you saw me do something illegal, would you report it?”

Now that was interesting.

I gave a slight tilt of my head. “That would depend. Did you make me complicit?”

He blinked once. “And if I did?”

“Then I’d make sure I had enough leverage to walk away clean.”

For the first time, something in his expression shifted. Not surprise but something darker like he’d just glimpsed something in me that intrigued him and terrified him at once.

“You’re efficient,” he said.

“And you’re probing for weaknesses,” I replied, just as coolly.

We stared at each other. Neither blinked and neither moved.

Then he stood, just like that.

“Well, Ms. Ellison. I’ve heard enough.”

He walked to the door and opened it.

Dismissed.

I rose slowly, smoothing down my skirt, keeping my expression neutral. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Gerard.”

He didn’t answer, he hust stood there like a goddamn statue, holding the door open as if I was already forgotten.

I stepped out into the hallway. The elevator ride down felt longer than the one up. I didn’t breathe until I hit the lobby, and even then, it was shallow.

When I got outside, Mark was leaning against the BMW, sunglasses on, smirking like he knew something.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

I stared straight ahead. “I’m not sure.”

That made him frown. “Silver, you’re always sure.”

I crossed my arms, the cool wind hitting my skin like a slap. “He rattled me. He pushed buttons I didn’t know I had.”

“You push back?”

“Of course. But—” I paused. “He’s different.”

Mark’s smirk returned. “You’re into him.”

I shot him a glare. “This isn’t about attraction.”

He raised a brow. “Isn’t it?”

I shook my head. “No. He’s... calculated. He sees people like equations. He reads them, and then dissects them.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know if I impressed him or pissed him off.”

Mark opened the car door. “Maybe both. That’s usually your brand.”

I didn’t laugh, nor did I smile because for the first time in years, I wasn’t sure I’d get the job, and if I didn’t get the job, I couldn’t get close, and if I couldn’t get close, I couldn’t kill him.

That uncertainty, it clung to me like smoke and I hated it.