The devil's pawn.

Three.

POV: JAMES-MATTEW.

Her tightness replayed in my head but I couldn't wrap my mind around the tattoo on her laps. She looked too innocent to belong to a gang group, let alone the devils.

They had been my rival and as far as I could remember, the conflict started when I was still a kid. According to my dad, their leader then was his good friend until, he r***d my mom and killed her to hide his devious crime. Sadly, my dad only got to find out, shortly before he handed over his entire asset to me.

The image of my mom fighting for her life at the hospital before she gave up the ghost was still very vivid in my mind and my anger intensified from it.

The nerve of them to put her in my bed!!

I picked up my phone and dialed Marcus's number.

“Boss.” he acknowledged in a strong tone.

“Get your sloppy ass in here right now!” I commanded and sent the phone crashing on the wall.

I stole a glimpse at the prey on my bed, unsure of what to do. Her tattoo stared back at me as if to mock my trust but, her nakedness was impossible to ignore. I grabbed a shirt from my wardrobe, put it on her and covered her with the duvet.

Marcus stormed in, head bowed, my tone from the phonecall should have sent the message.

My blood surged through my veins faster than usual and without thinking, I collided my fist with his jaw, and he stumbled backwards.

“Boss,” he explained as he spat blood from his mouth, “I didn't think she was….”but I cut him off.

“I don't pay you to think Marcus! I pay you to do your damn job properly. One mistake could have cost me everything!”

“You sent a well-seasoned poisoned meal to me, Marcus Where was your f*cking head?!” I snapped.

Still holding his jaw, he gently muttered an Inaudible apology.

“You are slipping Marcus and you know I don't like slips.” I finished and leaned back at the tiled wall, staring intently at him.

“What do I do boss?”

“Get rid of her…” I hesitated, “but not in the ground.”

My orders made him raise a curious brow at me.

“But…”

“You do not question my order.”

He bowed slightly.

“Take her somewhere safe and quiet. Just make sure to erase everything that could trace her to me.”

“Okay boss.” he replied compliantly.

“This time, do your damn job properly.”

“Okay boss.”

“Take her away.” I concluded.

I pulled out a Cuban cigar from its pack in the drawer, lit it and took a puff. The hot smoke from it hit my chest and soothed my nerves at once. My erratic breathing slowed but the events of tonight kept replaying in my head.

The kiss that nearly sent me to ecstasy, the way her tongue felt so velvety and moist, that wonderful taste of mocktail and vanila, the way her body felt against mine and those blue eyes that hid a certain kind of pain she couldn't talk about.

Carmen Hepburn, who the hell are you?

The next day.

The day's work resumed as usual. Our head office was buzzing with telephone calls, mail from our clients, meetings and a whole lot of paper work. As I made a beeline for my private elevator, the staff all bowed, curtly greeting me which I paid no attention to.

The doors dinged and I walked briskly into my massive office room. The chandelier hanging from the middle of its ceiling illuminated the room, the left side was lined with a massive library, it's first shelf holding my awards and nominations while, it's right side contained a massive show-glass which housed my art collections, ranging from paintings to artifacts, gemstones and my vinyl collection. My office chair and table– with files scattered on it and a laptop– sat backing the glass wall, that exposed the beautiful view of the city. A tall potted plant stood besides it.

I sat on my chair and pulled out my phone that had been buzzing violently in the hip pocket of my gray pants. Marcus was boldly inscribed in its screen.

“Boss, Sir. Vicras is coming in.” He announced, his voice laced with anger. “Should I stop him?”

“Just let him in.” I cooly suggested, “I will deal with him myself.”

Vicras Parley was the only heir to the AR&Ley conglomerate and the leader of the Devil's gang group, although they do not acknowledge him as one. He had a very nasty attitude owing to his ruthless ways of converting small businesses and blood shed in the city. The only valid reason he has for coming here was to taunt me about Carmen.

Sly fool didn't know I was three steps ahead of him.

Soon afterwards, he walked in. His hands was tucked into his black suit pants and his glasses sat on his nose bridge, carefully hiding those brown eyes.

Despite how nasty his character was, it couldn't taint his good-looking features. He was more of a Greek god with his tall height, well built body, curly blonde hair and a nicely chiseled face.

“Vicras, to what do I owe this pleasant visit?” I asked, disgust boldly written on my face.

“Fix your face, James. You look like I took something valuable of yours.” He retorted, taking a sit on one of the couches. “You won't offer me a drink? That’s one unique way of tending to your guest. If people saw this, they would think your mother spoilt you.”

“Keep my mom out from your filthy mouth!” I hissed.

“Easy there James. I'm not here to bite…. Not yet.” He smirked. “I was just curious about your night with the blue eyed.”

His smirk had more mockery in it than worry.

“Were you expecting my head on your table this morning?” I countered, a sneer smirk forming on my lips.

“That would be a great way to start my day but sadly, I have not had time to think of that.”

From how calm he was, I figured he didn't send Carmen to me. Vicras was very brazen. If he sent her to me, then he wouldn't be this calm about it.

“Mmm…. Don't try to then because I'm gonna add your head to my art collection, the minute you conceive that thought.” I threatened.

“We will see about that Mafia.” He retorted, stressing out the mafia. “Why don't we catch up later? You are no fun for now.” He finished and walked out. I immediately put a call across to Marcus.

“Boss..”

“You have three hours. Bring me every single thing on her, down to the number of strands in her hair!” I subtly commanded and hung up.

I had to have the upper hand.