Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty-Six

Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty-Six
He clears his throat and sits back, “Well, I admire your tenacity, fierceness and above all, your intelligence. It’s rare to come across an assassin whose mind is filled with so much knowledge, who grows that knowledge every day and uses it to their advantage. We’re cut from the same cloth you and I.”

I place my drink down, slowly get up from my seat ,and look over at his entourage of bodyguards, “It’s alright boys, I don’t mind an audience,” I smirk as I move around the table.

I slightly lift the hem of my dress as I straddle Sathariel, his eyes laser-focused on my every move. I run my finger along his bottom lip as I ever so slightly grind my pussy against his cock, beginning to feel the early signs of life as his cock begins to stiffen. I smirk and slide my arm around his neck as I slide my finger in his mouth.

“I think I have the perfect idea of how we can make this union official,” I say, my voice low and seductive.

His dark, almost pitch-black eyes ignite with lust as he begins to suck on my finger, teasing it with his tongue as his hands slowly glide up my thighs and over my ass. With both hands he squeezes my ass firmly, forcing my hips to buck and my pussy to grind on his cock.

“Mmm, so you’re human after all,” I tease, sliding a second and third finger into his mouth.

He bites down hard on my fingers, sucking them as his eyes burn with hunger, his cock beginning to strain against his slacks. As I withdraw my fingers from his mouth, he kisses me fiercely, his lips crashing against mine as he sucks them into oblivion. I cup his face, returning his kiss as his tongue plunges into my mouth. I slide my fingers around the back of his neck, digging my nails into his flesh, making him groan as I claw at him until I draw blood.

He bites down on my lip hard enough to draw blood and begins to suck it from my lip as he thrusts his covered cock up against my pussy. He kisses lustfully down my neck, as I run my fingers against his scalp, moaning from his touch.

“You truly are a dangerous woman,” he pants. “One who needs to be tamed.” He smacks his hand forcefully against my ass making me jolt and groan. He smirks as he squeezes my ass harshly, intensifying the sting radiating through my ass cheek.

“Then maybe you should tame me, right here, right now,” I whisper against his ear.

He reaches up, squeezing my breast firmly as he licks and sucks at the top of my breasts when the sound of a throat clearing interrupts the moment.

“What?!” he snaps, turning to glare at one of his men.

“Forgive me, sir, but your guest is demanding to come up.”

Sathariel takes a deep breath and looks up at me, as he fights against his hormones. “I have a gift for you.”

“I can tell,” I smirk as I grind my pussy against his rock-hard cock.

He groans, his eyes briefly rolling back before he opens them to look at me. “A different gift, one I think you’ll like even more.”

With a curious look on my face, I get up off his lap and smooth out my dress, “This better be good.”

He gets up, fixes his appearance, and comes to stand behind me, holding my hips as he presses his cock against my ass. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy this. After this we can celebrate,” he says, biting into my neck and thrusting his cock against my ass.

I let out a soft moan as I reach back, cupping the back of his head. “Oh, there will be much celebrating going on, I can promise you that.”

Sathariel stands up straight, as do I as he signals to one of his men. The man speaks into a walkie-talkie, and after a few moments of waiting, the elevator doors open. My eyes widen and my blood begins to boil as I watch Castor of all people, step out of the elevator.

“Surprise,” says Sathariel.

“What is this?” I ask in disbelief. What the actual fuck is going on?

“Your surprise is to be expected,” says Castor. “But you have to understand, I did this for us.”

I stare at him in confusion, feeling utterly fucking lost.

“You see, Dasha. I was horribly unaware of yours and Silas’ meddling until your friend Castor here brought it to my attention,” explains Sathariel, earning a sneer from Castor when Silas’ name is mentioned. “Well, more accurately, he brought it to a friend of his who happened to work for me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I say in confusion.

“I found a list of names on a whiteboard in your apartment. I happened to know one of the men on that list and I reached out to him,” Castor explains further.

“Oh, you mean when you broke into my apartment and trashed the place?” I snap as fury begins to bubble in my blood. No wonder the Drakos couldn’t find him. He has been with Sathariel ever since he fled after Silas and my father beat the ever-loving shit out of him, and that beating is still all over his face.

Once again, Castor is going to fucking ruining everything! Or maybe this is a good thing. I said I regretted not being able to kill him and the universe just placed him in my lap. I’ll hand it to Sathariel, he gives good gifts.

“I did this for us, Dasha! I wasn’t going to let anyone come between us, not your father and not that fucking prick,” Castor spits, his eyes wild and crazy, his beard more grown than ever just adding to his unhinged appearance. “You never should have chosen him over me.”

“I never chose him over you, you were never even an option to me. You don’t get it, do you? All those years manipulating me, Castor, and you’re still nothing to me,” I say with scathing dismissiveness.

As my words appear to pierce Castor like a sword, I glance back when I notice Sathariel suddenly sit down, loosening his bowtie as his appearance begins to turn sickly.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” he says, waving a dismissive hand.

I quirk my eyebrow as Sathariel wipes a few droplets of sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. I smirk as I look from him to Castor.

“Your clear detachment from reality aside, your timing is actually perfect. I hope you stay and enjoy all the fun,” I say as I walk around the table and take my seat. “Firstly, Sathariel, I must admit this is a truly unexpected but very welcome gift and for that, I thank you deeply.”

He smiles at me while trying to mask his discomfort, “When you proved your loyalty to me, I knew this would make the perfect peace offering. He is yours to do with as you please.”

“What?!” Castor exclaims. “That wasn't our fucking deal!”

“I don't recall making any kind of deal,” scoffs Sathariel. “I can't be blamed for your poor assumptions.”

Castor stares at him, his veins bulging as his rage boils to breaking point, which I find very amusing.

“Oh, it makes a wonderful offering, Sathariel, but certainly not one of peace,” I smile as I drum my fingers along the table. “Tell me, do you feel safe right now?”

He looks at me suspiciously, “From you? My dear, you’re grossly outnumbered.”

I smile in amusement as I stop drumming my fingers and tap my index finger against the table. In a moment, Sathariel’s champagne flute shatters, the remaining liquid in his glass coating the tablecloth. The guards jump back from the elevator when sparks begin to fly from the elevator button, immediately causing them to draw their weapons. I guess no one will be going down any time soon.

Sathariel looks towards the window noticing the cracks along the glass, and a small bullet hole at their junction. He looks at me with wide eyes as they begin to fill with rage. He rises to his feet but begins to sway, becoming unsteady.

“Your safety was an illusion. A privilege I granted you, and now am rescinding,” I say looking directly into his eyes with deadly defiance.

“Just what kind of game do you think you’re playing?” he says in a low, furious voice.

“See, we can agree or disagree on whether or not firing a gun is an art form. But I think we can both agree, artistic or not, Scythe is one hell of a shot,” I say with a cocky smirk.

He looks down at me in stunned silence, his brows furrowing as he tries to fathom my words. He shakes his head, unable to reconcile the information I have provided him.

“You told me that fucker was dead!” Castor shouts at Sathariel in a rage.

I casually pick up a knife from the table and throw it at Castor, aiming for his ankle and perfectly hitting my target. He drops to the ground, crying out in pain as he clutches his ankle, pulling out the knife and tossing it as blood spurts across the floor.

“Fucking bitch!”

“Aww, and I thought you used to like fucking this bitch,” I pout.

“I watched you kill Scythe,” says Sathariel, pulling my attention back to him as Castor’s groans of pain become nothing more than background ambience. “I checked him myself,” Sathariel argues, completely oblivious to Castor’s distress.

“Yeah… about that,” I say with a Cheshire cat smile.