THE BILLIONAIRE'S ASSASSIN

CHAPTER 5

Isabelle’s eyes snapped open. She had passed out after their intense session. She turned slowly, and her eyes met the sleeping man beside her, although her body felt sore; she felt more aroused just by staring at his peaceful face. To her and most of the ladies that drooled over him, Alexander was like a Greek god, he was the epitome of perfection, although he seemed cold and arrogant most of the time.

His opulent black raven hair was scattered over his forehead, escalating his ethereal features; she swallowed as she felt her core tightening. She only stared at him, she couldn’t touch him because he was a light sleeper, and she wouldn't want him to wake up abruptly; it would ruin her plan.

She propped herself to get up from the bed. Her body ached badly, but she managed to pull her clothes on. She took one last glance at him, a wave of satisfaction washed through her, then she walked out of the room.

Just as the door went shut, Alexander's eyes fluttered open.

ISABELLE'S APARTMENT

She stood in the shower, the water cascading over her as memories of her passionate night with Alex flooded her thoughts. A small smile broke on her lips, “Good job, Isabelle,” she mumbled, praising herself.

Stepping out of the shower, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Her brows furrowed lightly, but she picked the call anyway.

“Hey Bestie, it's me Chloe,” Chloe said at the end of the line.

“Oh” isabelle mouthed simply.

She heard Chloe let out a sigh. “Don’t tell me, you forgot about me,” Chloe said, her voice echoed through the line with feigned hurt.

Isabelle pinched the bridge of her nose, “I told you, I don’t do friendship stuff it icks me,” she muttered flatly.

“Oh Belle, I never said you have a say in this remember, we're besties for life now. I called to inform you that I might come visit anytime soon, so bye,” Chloe spoke, then ended the call.

Isabelle stared at her screen. She couldn’t fathom why she was persistent about being friends with her. Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my goodness, I hope she's not gay,” she murmured.

Her train of thoughts was cut short by the notification that popped on her phone screen — it was a message. She tapped her screen reading the message silently, her eyes shimmered with joy, a wide grin etched on her face; she had just been accepted for an interview at Cross Industries International.

Her phone buzzed again but this time it was Francis calling. She picked up immediately.

“You got the message right?” Francis asked.

“Yes, I have,” she answered simply.

“Good. Now listen carefully, this is a mission worth billions of dollars, so make sure you don’t screw this up. Remember you will be Isabelle from now on until you eliminate him. However, you’ll still be called upon for missions in the syndicate. Only then will you be allowed to be Nyx. Once again, you are Isabelle. Do not carry weapons around. Only your instinct should be used am I clear?” Francis stated.

She scoffed, “I’m no longer a kid, Francis, neither am I an amateur. You didn't train me all those years for nothing.”

“I know you’re not an amateur, but keep it in mind that Alexander is dangerous, he could easily make you his prey,” he warned.

Isabelle swallowed. She knew Alexander was dangerous but right now it felt as if the hype was being exaggerated. She had succumbed to being his prey last night, but now she would make sure the game goes on her own terms.

“I’ve heard all you've said and, trust me, I'll give it my all,” she said, then ended the call, her eyes burning with an unhinged determination.

NEXT DAY — CROSS INDUSTRIES INTERNATIONAL.

Isabelle stood staring at the towering glass structure of CII looming over her, a monolith of steel and shadow slicing into the grey Manhattan sky. CII wasn’t a typical conglomerate, it was a multinational conglomerate with branches all over the globe. Alexander really outdid himself, taking over after his father’s death.

She took a deep breath, then strode into the building; now she was here and there was no going back, just one more phase, and she’ll get to be by his side till he takes his last breath.

*****

Isabelle was seated in the waiting room with the other aspiring candidates. Time went by quickly, and it was finally her turn — since she was the last person.

She didn't know why but she felt nervous, her heart thudding hard against her ribcage. Once again, she took another deep breath, calming her nerves, and it helped.

She stepped into his office; he didn't look up, his gaze was glued to the computer screen that sat on his large obsidian desk.

Slowly, Alexander lifted his gaze, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he was quick to conceal it.

“Good morning, Mr. Cross. I’m Isabelle sinclair. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir,” she spoke with a light bow.

Alexander’s gaze scrutinized her, as though trying to see through her soul, then a small devilish smile curved his lips.

“Well, good morning pretty doll; what brings you here?” his masculine voice trolled out with a slight hint of amusement.

Isabelle felt a sudden tingle in her core; the way he calls her pretty doll always puts her mind into a frenzy.

She cleared her throat. “Uhmm, I’m here for the interview, sir.”

“I’m sorry, pretty doll, but the interview is over,” he said, his voice cold with something menacing.

“I’m sorry, but may I ask why?” she probed.

He leaned back in his seat, his fingers tapping his chin lightly while he swiveled on his chair.

“Hmm, maybe because I don't need my one-night stand to be my PA,” he stated sharply.

“Excuse me?” she asked with a shocked expression. She hadn't expected such words to troll out of those alluring lips of his.

“I’m sure we both understand the universal language called English pretty doll. You heard me loud and clear, now leave my office.”

Isabelle stared at him with parted lips. She couldn’t decipher what was going on. She had studied him for years, but now everything about him felt totally different. Francis was right. She shouldn’t be too confident if not she would end up as his prey. She clenched her fist tightly, he was lucky she was Isabelle and not Nyx, she would have made him eat those words of his.

“Hello, anybody home?” he called, snapping her back to reality.

“Stop standing there like you’re some statue and leave,” he snarled, his voice tainted in cold arrogance.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I won't leave. I came here for the job and not as your one-night stand. Besides, you’re a total stranger to me. I didn't know you were ‘The Alexander Cross.' "She countered, hoping to defend herself.

“You’re right. I guess that’s somewhat logical,” he muttered, his gaze never leaving hers.

Isabelle only nodded simply.

“I don’t need a PA, Ms Sinclair. I have already dismissed the others; so what do you suggest we do about you now?” he said flatly.

“I don’t know sir, but I really need this job,” she muttered in an almost apologetic tone.

“Hmm. Is that so?” he drawled.

She simply nodded.

“Since you're hellbent on getting this job, would you go on your knees and beg if I asked you to?” he drawled, grinning wickedly, an elegant brow aching up charmingly.

Isabelle blinked once, twice — as if trying to make sense of what she had just heard. She thought she knew Alexander but the person before her was like a psychotic version of Alexander.

“What? Beg? Hell no,” she rolled her eyes, then turned to walk out. Maybe she should just forget about having him rather it would be best to abduct him, then eliminate him when she's done with him.

“Not another step, pretty doll,” his voice echoed as she was about to pull the door handle.

She halted on her track, and slowly she turned facing him.

Alexander stood up from where he sat, slowly he advanced towards her. Isabelle's breath hitched, the way he stared at her was as if he was about to pounce on her. With every step he took, she also took a step back till her back hit the wall.

Alexander closed the distance between them, his tall frame caging her against the wall. He leaned in closer until his cool breath wafted over her skin.

“You’re one feisty doll, you know, others would have dropped to their knees accepting my offer gladly. But you… you're built differently, and I'd like to keep you all to myself,” he whispered behind her ear. His alluring devilish voice sent shivers down her spine.

Her mind raced frantically, Alexander was making her feel things she couldn’t describe. Only heaven knows how she was going to survive this mission.

“I’ll give you the job, pretty doll — only if you agree to be my exclusive PA” he drawled with that sinful voice of his.

“Exclusive PA?” Isabelle asked, her eyes now lost in his seductive, stormy eyes.

“Yes pretty doll, be my exclusive PA. You do know what that means, right?” he asked with a deep husky voice.

Of course, Isabelle knew what it meant, but she shook her head instead, signaling a no.

“I relished the little play date we had that night; and seeing you now got me wanting more. You will be my exclusive PA, and I'll get to have you all to myself, whenever I want and however I please,” he muttered, still staring deep into her soul, his voice low and sinister.

Isabelle stared at him in awe. She had thought she was a psycho but the man before her had transcended deep into psychoticism, in ways she never thought was possible.

“So, is it a yes or a yes, pretty doll?” he asked, his cold voice snapping her back to reality.

“Y– yes I agree,” Isabelle mumbled, her voice barely a whisper as she tried to regain her composure.

A devilish grin graced his lips, he leaned closer; their nose touching slightly. “Welcome to my world pretty doll. Now, let the games begin,” he whispered sinfully.

Alexander’s words hadn’t even settled when he pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers — rough, consuming, demanding. Her brain went numb, the world narrowing to the taste of him, the heat, the danger and every warning she had clung to vanished completely.