THE ASSASSIN WORE RED LIPSTICK

chapter 6: RED LIPSTICK ON HIS COLLAR

Morning after Daniel Kane died in our garden.

I woke up and General Lucian Voss was not in bed. His side of black sheets was cold, smelling like gunpowder and rain and blood - last night's blood. My long black hair was messy, my innocent face pale, my red lipstick completely gone from crying and kissing his bloody collar last night. My diamond ring was still there, shining, but my white thighs had small bruises from his hands holding me tight when he carried me bloody to bed.

I sat up, wearing his black shirt again - now with blood and red lipstick on collar - my small body shaking. Last night 11 men died in our red roses garden for me. For Raven Dela Rosa, assassin who wears red lipstick.

"General?" I called, my small voice scared, my innocent face looking around his big cold bedroom.

No answer. Only soldiers outside, cleaning, I could hear water, shovels.

I reapplied my red lipstick - ritual to be brave - and went downstairs, my bare feet on marble, his black shirt too big.

I found him in his office, not sleeping, still in his bloody black uniform from last night, his black coat off, his white shirt with red - my red lipstick mixed with Daniel Kane's blood - on his collar. His blue eyes were ice cold, his scar white, his jaw tight, his big scarred hands holding a phone, ordering.

"Burn the bodies. Clean the garden. Red roses still red, not black. And send 5 million to Marco's daughter, secret, don't tell Mrs. Voss."

He was sending money to traitor's daughter? My heart cried, my innocent face soft.

He ended call, saw me in doorway, his black shirt, my long black hair, my fresh red lipstick, my innocent face pale.

"Raven, my brave assassin wife, you woke up," he said, his deep voice tired, his General mask breaking, his blue eyes turning black with obsession and love.

He walked to me, his bloody uniform close, his tall body covering mine, his hand lifting my chin, his thumb smudging my fresh red lipstick slightly - his favorite habit, even with bloody hands.

"You wore red lipstick again this morning, my love," he whispered, his scar close, his blue eyes on my red lips. "Good girl. My good assassin wife is brave after night of killing."

"General, you did not sleep, you are still bloody..." I whispered, my small hands touching his bloody collar, my red mark from last night on his uniform, my diamond ring on his chest. "You killed 11 men for me, you are bloody..."

He took my small bloody hands and kissed them, one by one, gently, like they were clean, not shaking.

"I told you, Raven, I will kill for you, my wife," he whispered against my skin. "Daniel Kane came to kill my assassin wife who wears red lipstick, who has innocent face. He stepped in my red roses garden with ten men. So I killed them all. For you. For my wife. And I did not sleep because I watched you sleep, my love. You whispered Mama in sleep, you cried, your innocent face was scared. So I watched all night."

Tears fell from my innocent face, my red lipstick trembling. He watched me sleep all night in bloody uniform.

"You watched me, General?" I whispered, my red lips close to his bloody collar.

"Yes, my love," he whispered, his blue eyes black. "Because last night after I killed Daniel Kane, I realized something, Raven. I realized I cannot live without your red lipstick on my collar. Look."

He pointed to his white shirt collar, the red mark - my red lipstick from last night when I kissed his bloody collar crying - mixed with blood, ugly and beautiful at same time.

"This," he said, his voice low, possessive. "This red on my collar, your red lipstick mixed with blood of man who wanted to kill you, is the most beautiful thing I have ever worn, my wife. More beautiful than my General medals. Because it means my assassin wife marked me. My wife loves me enough to kiss me bloody."

I cried, my innocent face red, my red lips kissing his bloody collar again, making fresh red mark today.

"I love you, General," I whispered for first time, my small voice, my brave red lips. "I love you, Lucian."

First time I called him Lucian, not General.

His blue eyes turned black, blackest black, his tall body shaking, his big hands grabbing my waist hard, pushing me against his office wall, his bloody uniform cold.

"Say it again, Raven," he whispered, his scar close, his lips on my red lips, smudging my fresh red lipstick. "Say my name again, my assassin wife."

"Lucian..." I whispered, my innocent face red, my red lips smudged. "Lucian, my husband... I love you..."

He kissed me then, against the wall, morning after killing 11 men, his bloody uniform on my innocent face, his kiss possessive, obsessed, tasting my fresh red lipstick, making me whisper "Ahh... Lucian..." softly like wife.

His soldiers outside heard, uncomfortable, but they smiled. Their General had red lipstick on his collar and his wife whispering his name, not General, but Lucian.

After long kiss, he carried me to chair, sat me on his lap, his bloody uniform under me, my black shirt up slightly, my long black hair on his shoulder.

"Raven, my love, today you will not wear black or white," he whispered, his thumb smudging my red lipstick again, marking me. "Today you will wear red, all red, red dress, because last night you were brave in my black shirt with gun, and today my men need to see Mrs. Voss in red, alive, brave, with red lipstick, not scared. So they know their General's wife is assassin who survives."

"Okay, Lucian," I whispered, my small voice wife voice.

He called his soldier, "Bring Mrs. Voss red dress, most expensive red, now! And clean garden, put new red roses where blood was, for Mrs. Voss!"

Soldier obeyed.

Lucian looked at his bloody collar with my red mark and smiled, cold General smile but with love.

"I will not wash this collar, Raven," he said, touching red mark. "I will keep it, frame it. Red lipstick on his collar - title of our love story, my assassin wife."

I smiled, my innocent face with red lips, my diamond ring, his wife, sitting on his lap in bloody uniform, and whispered, "And I will never stop wearing red lipstick, General, so you will always have red on your collar."

He kissed my forehead, smelling my red lipstick, whispering "Good girl. My good assassin wife. Now wear red, my love. Our life continues today, with red."

And in his office with cracked mirror that said "I AM HOME, GENERAL. YOUR ASSASSIN." in my red lipstick, there was now new writing below it, written by him this morning in blood and my red lipstick mixed: "SHE MARKED MY COLLAR. SHE IS MINE."

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