Femme Fatale Page 10

  When I look back up, I realize that my heart is thudding so hard that I fear it will explode. He charges toward me, full of dominance, and he doesn’t stop until I’m pinned to the wall, my hands above my head, and my alcoholic kisses mingling with his perfect ones.

  He travels down my chest, dotting his lips against my skin as he begins working his way to my breasts, and I fall victim to his will. My body comes alive all over again, the thudding in my heart exacerbates, and I feel electric. But as Zane reaches my bra, readying to remove it, the rush of coldness hits me as he takes a step back in horror. Suddenly I realize my left bra cup feels emptier than it had.

  I completely forgot it was there. I never expected mine and Zane’s paths to cross tonight – especially like this – but I took it with me just in case. It was almost an act of comfort, too – if I had this vial, it was one less my father could kill me with later.

  “I didn’t want to believe the reports,” he stammers as he stands before me, eying the toxic vial.

  “What reports?” I ask, aghast. I watch him roll the vial around in his palm.

  “That the only description we have of the Femme Fatale sounded an awful lot like you,” he states and looks up at me. “What are you caught up in, Amelia?”

  “Nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I defend myself and I feel my sobriety return in one heavy rush. I feel an inner laughter bubble and burst within. It’s taken me to this point to realize how pathetic I sound, and I cannot allow it to continue. It’s time to do this, time to absolve myself of any and all issues.

  Don’t feel, don’t deviate, kill Zane Maverick. My father’s voice strikes up within me and I go and take a seat. I sit and cross my legs, sitting back, allowing my true feelings to go forgotten and try to keep my cool. I cannot be weak. I will not be weak. Who am I fooling? I stand up, advancing for him as if he’ll forget if we just rekindle what we had started.

  “It’s not what you think,” I tell him, pouncing with the prowess of a lioness.

  I try to make him forget, my hands deliberately trawling all over him. It’s a desperate bid to get him to forget, and I think it’s working as I wrap my fingers around the vial promptly pulling it from him. But Zane is aware and he takes the vial back off me and pushes me away a little too heavy handed. It’s almost like the touch of me disgusts him. I’m a vile monster and I deserve this, but it’s not until I hit the wall and the impact jolts shards of reality back into my soul that I realize it all – this is it, my end. My reign as Femme Fatale ends tonight by the placing of handcuffs around my wrists.

  “You’re a definite Femme Fatale,” he growls at me, holding the vial of poison at me. It’s almost like he’s piecing everything together and is looking at me in a brand new light. He now sees what he was always meant to.

  I fix him with a pointed look and cross my arms over my chest. “That’s French. Don’t insult me, you ass.”

  “You’re the one insulted when I just found a bottle of this in your bra?” he asks me, chuckling mirthlessly. “If I had dug further what else would I find?”

  I snicker. “Possibly your balls.” I decide to stand up and approach him in a slow seductive way. He knows, I might as well continue on now. I forget about my nerves, push them as far away as humanly possible. “Now, if you’re going to call me anything, be a little more culturally respectful.” As I get closer, I pluck the glass bottle from him, encase it in my palm, and run my other hand across his chest. “I’m an affascinante assassino. I’m your affascinante assassino. Never forget that.”

  “I don’t do Italian, Sweetheart,” he comments plainly.

  “We both know that’s a lie,” I state, a grin slowly growing upon my lips, but it doesn’t last long. “If I hadn’t have let you have your way with me, I’d still be on some sort of plan. Not telling you what I really am. If I had just listened to my rational side and not the side you bring out in me, then maybe I might have gotten what I was supposed to.”

  “So, was that always your plan?” he asks, his jaw tensing with the question. “Seduce me only to fucking poison me?” I can’t stand to look at him, to see that malevolent anger engulfing him. It’s his disbelieving chuckle that makes me look at him, the sudden swipe forcing me to jump down, but he has the bottle again and I gulp. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” Zane asks me rhetorically. “Us meeting...it was never a coincidence, was it? It was all part of some grand scheme that father of yours put you up to!”

  “He knows what you’re up to,” I growl, my own betrayal at him looking into my life but never seeking me out seeping through. “We all know you’re trying to bring him down. It’s my job to stop you. Regardless of what my feelings are toward you, I have to do this.”

  “Fuck,” he swears as the realization dawns. “I fucking fell in love with a murderer!” It’s with that he launches the small vial toward the far wall. On impact it shatters, the poison splattering across the surface before rolling down in tiny trickles. “And I should hate every-fucking-thing about you!” He’s lashing out and I let him. I take this because it’s the least I deserve. “It should change how I feel about you, Amelia! It should change absolutely everything!” His voice is bellowing, but slowly his face melts. “But it doesn’t.”

  “What?” I squawk, my eyes widening.

  He comes toward to me, his hands frame my face fiercely, and he looks into my eyes. “I’ve known for so long you’re the identity the PD have been after on the Femme Fatale case. I never voiced it. I never will, not even with the proof I just had.”

  I squirm away from him. “I kill men, Zane. How can you possibly say that? I’m a contract killer on my father’s say so. You’re my next hit. How can you not turn me in now?”

  “Because I know you can’t do it.” He calls my bluff, watching me, daring me to defy him. “If you had it in you, you’d have killed me a long time ago. You wouldn’t have given yourself to me like you have. If you were as ruthless as the tabloids have you down as, Amelia, I would have known. It’s how I know you haven’t changed.”

  “I’m a killer,” I admit and divert my gaze.

  “Not by will,” he comments so softly as his thumb grazes across my cheek. “Now look at me.”

  I do and I speak, “We aren’t meant for forever. This isn’t for forever. He’s made sure of that.”

  “We’ll deal with that matter when we cross it.” Zane steps toward me, instantaneously cradling my face. “If you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t be here. If you were a killer, Amelia, there wouldn’t be this amount of emotion. No matter how much you wanted to trick me, you wouldn’t make round two feel like round one.” He’s using the same saying on me, making me realize that this is almost liberation. “You don’t want to kill me, do you?”

  “I don’t want to kill you,” I murmur brokenly, looking at him. “It’s not something I’ll ever be capable of doing, Zane. “

  “Well then, for now, I want you. Not some guise he’s put on you, but the woman who makes me believe in love.” I try to remain strong, but I want him. I need him to wipe away the dirt I feel at the ridicule of my identity I’ve been dragging around for years. He seems to notice, and I find my back's pushed into the corner. The man before me is feral and in need of some sexual gratification that only I'm key to. He wants to forget about the scene that just transcended between us. He doesn’t care for what I’ve done. He knows I’m not here to harm him. He’s right, if I were, I’d have done it on our first meeting. "Shall we try this again, Princess?" he asks me, gripping my near naked form, his fingers kneading me with readiness. "Unless you've got a vial of that shit inside you waiting for my rock hard cock to shatter it, that is."

  “That was it,” I whisper, my voice nothing more than a husk. My eyes look over his shoulder to the stain and then I divert my gaze back. “I’m powerless now.”

  “Good,” he mutters as his eyes become hooded with additional lust. He’s meant to be my prey, so why am I the one who feels haunted? Oh yeah, that’s f
ucking right, because we’re both one another’s victims.

  He reaches down and rips my panties from me. The hard pull propels me forward, but Zane catches me and uses the opportunity to unclasp my bra. As he pulls it off, he pushes me back into the corner and pins me wholly. Leaning down, he puts his arms between my legs. I spend a moment wondering why, until my feet are lifted from the floor and I’m suspended in the air at his will. He presses his aching body against mine as he plants kissing all over me. I really am powerless. I can only wrap my arms around his neck as he has his wicked way with me. I feel it more when his kisses graze along my breast and he latches onto my nipple with a stern bite. I howl out in a pant, the arousal too much to deny. His tongue licks over my hardened nipple, easing the sensual pain he caused.

  One of my hands runs up the back of his neck, until I’m left cradling the base of his skull, and he looks at me, capturing me in his gaze. I know why when he penetrates me with his whole length. He always loved to watch my face with that first thrust. The way my eyes roll close, my mouth opening in pure delight, and I become barren of all the woes that ever troubled me. As the gasp is involuntarily pushed out of me, I watch him smile wickedly – he got the reaction he was after.

  “You’re right where I want you,” he declares as he slowly and tortuously withdraws from me only to force adrenaline on me as he pumps back into me. He unashamedly works my body, all the while keeping me trapped. His arms keep my legs up, his hands push against the wall as he pushes in and out of me and I feel him hitting my g-spot time and time again. It weakens me. Every single time he does, my senses defuse and the world around us just seems to become so nonexistent. I’m lost in his strength, in his prowess, in this world he creates for only the two of us.

  I arch my back, greedily wanting him to sink further in. I let go with one hand just so I can reach against the wall and push myself onto him more. My breathing is a wasted art as I find myself unable to draw in the appropriate amount of air to suffice. Every time I manage it, Zane forces all of the air out of my lungs with the speed of his stamina.

  “Don’t hold off on me now,” he growls against my skin. He can feel I’m now ready, ready to enjoy a small dose of heaven.

  “Z-Zane,” I managed in a taunt voice. I stutter only as the orgasm rips through me with such ferocity I don’t know what else to do, but sing the name of the man who has worked me to this heavenly height. As I cum, his hold tightens. I'm free falling all whilst trapped between this wall and his rock hard body.

  My head falls back as my body convulses with the orgasm, and I fall limp in his embrace. As I feel him fill me, he pushes me more against the wall and his hold tightens. He grunts with the pressure and begins to kiss against my neck, bringing us both back down to earth.

  “You are, and always will be, my greatest carpe diem,” he whispers to me, his words brushing against my skin. After a moment, he kisses into my neck again. "Let's have that talk now, Amelia."

  I have no say as he carries me into the living room and sets me down on the couch. He picks up a throw and tosses it over me. He doesn’t care we’re both naked, he just sits with me. There’s nothing else to do but talk. We had sex out of anger, out of release, out of finding a sense that what we have is worth fighting for. Zane presented with me a flash of liberation after he discovered my dirty secret and pieced it all together.

  "How can you not take me to the police?” I ask him, my confusion is mounting by the minute. He knows absolutely everything, yet hasn’t made a single move.

  "Because I can't lose you again," he states. It’s all so black and white when he puts it like that, and I’m shaken by it. "And I dread to think what the great and powerful Salvatore Abbiati would do to me and anyone who tried to lock you away." I see the humor in him, and I try to relish it.

  "You could tip off one your colleagues?" I offer him another idea. It's one that absolves him of all input into my capture."Tell them it's me. I could even turn myself in.”

  "Do you want to get caught? Because it sure sounds like it?" I give a nonchalant shrug and wonder if he is granting me a small piece of forever like my father. "What is it?"

  “If I don’t kill you, I die,” I tell him and watch his gaze soften ever so slightly. Errant tears streak down my cheek as I admit the one and only truth my heart holds. “I kill you, I die.” I close my eyes, begging my tears to dissolve into nothingness. “Whatever happens, there’s no future for us, for me. Whichever route I choose to take tonight, Zane, is actual murder for me. So maybe prison is my safest route for us all.”

  “It’s not,” Zane argues back. “He’s your father; surely he’s not short of allowing you to bargain with him? You just need time to form a proper plan. Now that we’re both on the same page with this we can work toward that forever you keep denying yourself.”

  “He’s already threatened to kill me tonight, Zane. There is no way I can escape this one.” I look at him and try to draw from the character I’ve become over the last few months. “I knew he had won the moment I saw you again in that bar. I love you too much to do this. I would rather die than do anything to hurt you. He knows that, too.”

  This is no time for words, and Zane recognizes that. He comes to me, pulling me into his embrace, and holds me as I begin to cry heavily. I hold onto him, my fingers digging into him as if he’ll vanish if I don’t. I can feel my tears wetting his skin, and the more they do, the closer he holds me. I cry for what feels like an eternity before I finally break away from him.

  I wipe my face and look at him appreciatively. “I just need a moment,” I tell him, and he agrees, allowing me to leave him. Remembering where the downstairs bathroom is, I hurriedly grab my bra dress, and tattered panties and head for the room. Once inside, I use the entirety of my weight to push the door closed. I inhale and exhaling deeply before I start to put some of my clothes back on. When I look up, I’m met with my own mirror image in the large standing mirror and slowly stand up. I approach and I stare at my own reflection. I was dressed to kill. I have a means to kill. But I have a defiant heart stopping me. I’m a failure to my cause. I’m the devil’s biggest loss. But all the time I feel that flutter in my heart, the longer I fucking resist the call of my destiny.

  Zane Maverick – you are both a sweet delight and my bittersweet fucking end.

  Shaking my head in dismay, I turn away and head back to Zane.

  “So, affascinante assassino, eh?” he asks me curiously as I resurface from the bathroom. I see he’s now got his boxers back on, and sitting on the couch waiting for me.

  “Yup,” I comment back. “I’m your seductive murderer. Even though I didn’t have to work hard and failed.”

  “Come here,” he commands lightly, patting the couch beside him. I obey numbly and sit beside him. “While we’re being honest with one another, I have something I have to say,” he starts, as he licks his lips nervously.

  “What’s that?” I ask, not sure if I should back away for this or remain close.

  “I’ve been waiting for a while to cross paths with you again for more than just winning you back,” he states, and my heart bottoms into my stomach. “I need to use you to get close to your father.”

  “No!” I yelp in horror. “You can’t do that. He’ll kill you, Zane! He won’t hold back.”

  “He needs bringing down. If not for all the misdeeds he’s been taking part in for decades, then for the abuse he’s made you and your brothers suffer.” He tries to remain calm as he speaks, but I can see this has been building up. “He is the reason I left before, and he is still the number one reason we can’t be happy together, Amelia. I admit, beforehand, I played a massive part in leaving you behind, but he was the number one contributor.”

  “I know,” I agree softly. “Even if we do this, I’m still stuck doing his dirty work.”

  “Maybe your statement can keep you free,” Zane offers the idea, and I immediately kill it.

  “Maybe my statement will land me in a jail cell,” I remark back unim
pressed. “Or better yet, Zane, a mental institution! I’m a fucking murderer who barks when her father calls!”

  “Not by will, you aren’t! Your testimony might spare you!” His argument is invalid in my eyes. I live with what I’ve done in the name of family. I can’t see anyone sparing a twenty-three-year-old who should have known better! “There has to be some clause to your father! A way to make him back away from giving you jobs.”

  “There are no loopholes in the Abbiatis,” I remind him, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “You’re the loophole,” Zane states with a matter-of-fact tone. “You’re the key.”

  “But how do we use me if I am?” I ask, wondering what sort of bait I could be. If I’m honest, Zane is the closest to any police officer I want to get close to right now. It makes me apprehensive to rule out getting myself out of this predicament without getting some sort of help from the authorities.

  “That’s something I guess we’ll have to work out,” Zane comments and sits there looking increasingly thoughtful. “You just need to get him to give you a little longer on this.”

  Then the bright spark of an idea hits me.

  “I have an idea that might work.” I look at him and grin. “What if I told him I wanted to lure you to my house to kill you there? Like an ultimate sacrifice. He wants your blood; why not better to do it in the heart of the Dio Lavoro?”

  “And here I was, thinking you were just a pretty face,” he jokes lightly.

  “Devilish mind,” I counter with a wink and realize what the fuck we’re doing! I don’t know how, but it turned playful when we should be working ways to get me off scotch free and rid my father in this awful equation. “We’re both in a predicament here,” I state and wring my hands together with trepidation. “This is not something we can get out of quickly.”

  Zane reaches for me, yanking my hands apart. “Are you sure you can’t delay your murderous intent with me?”