Chapter 3: Counterattack
898 Words
Gavril.
He was swift.
A rare talent in the underworld. I observed him even when the middle-aged man kept talking, saying things that made sense only to him.
At first, the party was draining. It violated everything on my not-to-do list.
Dad had forced me to fill in for him, saying the alliance was crucial, and I needed more publicity, so I forced through it.
Then I saw the lad, clad in velvet black, the colour richer than obsidian, with a hand wrapped in a bandage.
Something about the way he looked bored while talking to a lady next to him made me feel a lot better about the whole thing.
Everyone had fake smiles plastered on their faces, including me.
But he… he didn't care for false pleasantries.
Then he looked at me.
Due to how I was standing, it was difficult for him to know I had been observing him.
I planned on approaching him after the tiresome conversation with the oldie in front of me.
“Check the man on velvet black, three meters from me” I muttered softly to Tom, my cyber guy.
“Yes, boss!”
“Luka Dimitri, enforcer of the Morecant clan, lost his parents at 7…”
“Enough,” I whispered, seeing the man before me smile and nod like a lizard.
Luka.
Interesting name.
Morecant…the villain clan in Dad's books.
I see.
He approached me instead. I was slightly surprised by his audacity and identity, then he did something even more audacious…
He spiked me.
As I said earlier, he was swift. Butting into me not so gently and taking advantage of the little shoving drama to flick the tablet into my drink from a small distance.
I smiled at the temerity and watched him retreat into a less bright part of the hall, flipping his suit into a rich vermillion.
I sighed and apologized to the man who had been lecturing me for minutes, for the little inconvenience, before tilting the cup upwards, letting the liquid sit on my lips for a while, before bringing the cup down.
That was all it took to trick him.
“Clear the parking lot,” I murmured, and the guards went to work.
“I didn't quite get you,” the man before me said. I offered a smile and waved a bit.
“All done, sir,” I heard from the earpiece, minutes later. I shifted my gaze towards the interesting lad under narrowed eyes.
He looked impatient.
Our eyes locked for more than a second.
“Man the gates,” I muttered again. At that point the man before me was confused, wondering what I was saying.
So I excused myself, ignoring the way the man's face fell.
Once outside, I slowed my movements, aware he might be following.
“Someone’s gonna leave in a hurry, let him,” I said.
Suddenly he snatched my hands and spun me around to face him.
A punch landed on my jaw, forcing me to stagger.
A trained one.
His speed and attention to detail were impeccable.
I hoped he hadn't heard my little exchange.
I played along, letting myself get manhandled by this man. He shoved me into his SUV and hopped into the driver's seat, quickly jerking the car to life and fleeing the place.
That was the most fun I had all evening. Actually, the most fun I'd had in weeks.
I watched him drive out the gate.
Okay, he may be a little slow.
How didn't he notice something wasn't right?
I gradually grew bored with the whole kidnap saga. I moved my fingers to my cufflinks, diffusing the aromatherapy prepared to dull the senses.
Of course, I was immune to all my poisons and gadgets.
I watched realisation slowly dawn on him.
A small smile spread across my lips as I watched him cover his face. The car also came to a halt.
He jumped out of the car, stumbling forward.
I chuckled and undid the handcuffs, tossing them onto the car floor, before unlocking the door and stepping out.
His movements were slow and miserable.
I straightened my suit and repinned my cufflinks before walking towards him.
“Clark!” he screamed into the night, as though anyone could save him from me.
When I was close enough I kicked him down and squatted to his level, watching him adjust his tie and struggle to breathe.
My brows furrowed slightly.
In all the years I watched over my father's business, I had never seen a man so breathtaking as this assassin.
I tilted my head, observing his flushed features.
The stud earrings in both ears glowed under the moonlight.
A thin black tattoo line peeked through his shirt, covered by sweat.
“So you’re the one they sent this time,” I said.
But I didn't expect what happened next.
Most of my victims broke down at this point, face contorted and pleas slipping through their dried lips, but this man was different.
He smiled at me.
Not a conceited smile, but a mocking one.
My smirk dropped as I watched him go to sleep.
Being miserable suited him.
“We're ten miles north. Come with an ambulance.” I said aloud.
“Yes sir.”
I looked at his sleeping figure, menacing even when unconscious.
He was going to be an interesting victim.
- Writer
