Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty-Five

Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty-Five
The elevator doors open and the sight before me leaves me speechless. I slowly step into a gorgeous two-story penthouse apartment with a surprisingly breathtaking view of the city skyline through wall-to-wall windows. The sun is almost entirely set, giving the white furnishing a stunning, electric purple and pink glow.

As I go to take another step, I’m held in place by my pervy escort. He spreads my arms wide, kicking my legs apart as he begins to pat me down. Overly thorough if you ask me.

I glare back at him as his hands cup my breasts. “One needs to be wearing a bra to hide something in it, Einstein.” Fucker couldn’t have done this before we got on the plane?

Once satisfied that he’s violated me enough, the chauffeur disappears behind the elevator doors as I step further into the luxurious penthouse only to see a table for two set up just past the living space. I register the popping of a cork as I look towards the open kitchen, only to see Sathariel pouring two glasses of champagne.

“I take it your journey here was comfortable,” he greets warmly.

“Not sure I’d describe getting felt up by a stranger and driving through the streets of Berlin as ‘comfortable’,” I quip.

With a confident smile, he steps out from behind the long kitchen counter, carrying a champagne flute in each hand. He’s dressed to impress in a black tuxedo, white button-down shirt, black leather Oxfords and a red bowtie. A complete 180 from his attire in the warehouse.

“You look positively stunning my dear,” he says, extending a flute to me as his eyes rake over me appreciatively.

I take the drink graciously. “Well, I wasn’t so sure I had dressed appropriately given the state of the building.”

He chuckles, taking a sip from his glass. “Hiding in plain sight is one of our greatest assets. Anonymity is our most powerful weapon, Dasha. I just so happen to wield it better than most.” He places his hand on the small of my back. “Please, come sit with me.”

He guides me over to the table for two, pulling out my chair. As I sit, he pushes it back in and takes his seat opposite me.

“I admit, this wasn’t what I was expecting,” I say as I sit back in my chair.

“What were you expecting?” he inquires with great interest.

“Actually, I had no expectations. I know very little about you, so there was no way I could formulate an opinion. But luxury such as this doesn’t seem to match the myth behind the man.”

“Money is one of the perks of our profession. I see no reason not to enjoy such a spoil,” he smirks as he sips from his glass.

“I’m unclear how you make money at all. According to Ulrich, you formed the Syndicate by recruiting assassins to join your little organisation, but to do what? All I know is that you set up assassins to kill other assassins, and I can’t even figure out why. I don’t see how that’s a lucrative business,” I ask inquisitively, taking a sip from my flute.

“The mind of a scientist is always filled with questions,” he muses to himself. “As you said, this is a business, one with far too many competitors.”

“So, you’re getting rid of the competition?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Not quite. I realised long ago that there’s no one out there like me. No one can see what I see or do what I do. They think they can, but they can’t,” he says with displeasure. “The Tournament thinks they control us, but they’re nothing without us. We are more powerful than they will ever be.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because they think too small. They kill us for entertainment and money, but I have the power to topple governments. As I continue to build my Syndicate I will have an endless supply of money, connections, and an army of assassins capable of the most unthinkable tasks. I’ll have the power to influence nations throughout the world. I’m not just an assassin, I’m a God, and just like a God I wield the power of life and death in my hands,” he says, forming a fist. “I carefully select assassins such as you to join me in my cause. Imagine having infinite power at your fingertips. The power to be feared the world over,” he says with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

This motherfucker isn’t just deranged, he has a God complex. Lovely.

“But the world knows the name of God. They don’t know you,” I say with a sweet smile.

The gleam in his eyes vanishes as he sits back. “Not yet. But they soon will.”

As he takes another sip of his drink, I hear the sound of approaching footsteps. I glance to the left as five men in all-black suits space themselves out across the room.

“Five men?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t want you to be tempted to misbehave this evening,” he says teasingly, a veiled warning in his words.

“I was more offended by the number. Five is just pitiful. Seven I’d at least struggle with,” I say matter-of-factly.

Sathariel tosses his head back and laughs, “You might just be right. You did kill and injure six of my men the other day.”

“And that was just thinking on my toes. Imagine the damage I could do with time to prepare,” I grin.

“That’s what I admire about the Vespasiano women. They’re nothing if not tenacious,” he says with a sly smile.

“You know about my family,” I say as I place my glass down before I end up shattering it in my hand.

“A fascinating history. An entire lineage of female assassins. They could write stories of you.”

“Like you said, anonymity is our most powerful weapon, and like you, I use it well, just as the women before me did.”

“Sadly it didn’t serve you well this time,” he says apologetically.

“Haruspex would certainly disagree with you,” I say in a bored tone as I examine my nails.

The room goes quiet, so I glance up at Sathariel with disinterest as I note him frozen in place, his glass to his lips as he looks at me in surprise.

“So, it was you who killed Haruspex,” he says as if it finally makes sense.

“To be fair, I wasn’t planning to kill him, but it was him or me,” I shrug.

He smirks, “And as you said, you will always choose yourself. That was quite an unpleasant demise he experienced.”

I lean forward and trace my fingernail up and down the length of his hand, looking at him with sultry eyes. “Another example of the level of damage I can do when I’m not even trying,” I say sweetly. “Really makes you think.”

His eyes follow the movement of my fingers with intrigue. With a smile plastered on his face, he places his glass down and captures my hand, holding it tight. “I see my driver wasn’t as thorough as he should have been.”

I watch in irritation as he removes my heirloom ring from my finger, popping open the lid and emptying the powdered contents onto the table. I maintain my poker face as he slides it back onto my finger.

“I hope you weren’t planning on using that on me tonight,” he says, placing a lingering kiss on the back of my hand.

“Force of habit,” I say coyly. “You never know when you might need it.”

“I’d expect no less from you.”

“You expected me to poison you?” I tease, reaching out as I caress his cheek, letting my nails run against his stubble.

“Expecting you not to, would be to expect you to go against your very nature, a nature I greatly admire about you,” he says as his eyes dip to glance at my cleavage and darken with lust.

“What else do you admire?” I lift his hand to my lips, softly kissing the back of it as his eyes watch me with burning intensity. “Don’t be shy,” I say as I take his thumb in my mouth sucking it hard as I hear his sharp intake of breath. I gently bite down on the tip of his thumb and sit back, lifting my glass and taking a sip with a flirtatious smile on my face.