"This isn't over, not by a long shot. You will pay," Adolf replied.
"Get out!" Archer growled, his voice low and threatening. The two men stepped back, their gazes locked on us for a moment, before finally leaving. However, before their departure, they made the payment for the artifact, which was immediately carried out of the room.
"Archer, are you alright, darling?" Barbara's voice broke the chilling silence that had settled. Jessica rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.
"I'm fine. Let me get you that gift I promised," Archer replied.
"No, I really don't think—" Barbara started, clearly uncertain about being the center of attention again.
"I insist," Archer said firmly, reaching out to grab her forearm, urging her toward the auction corner. Barbara threw me a helpless look, but I knew better than to get involved in their dynamic.
"Good evening, Enforcer," Jessica said, stepping in front of me and using her hand to trace the hem of my collar.
"Don't call me that," I muttered.
"But isn't that what you are, after all?" she said, her voice filled with honeyed charm. I didn't dignify her remark with a response. We had had this discussion countless times before, and she never listened. "You look handsome as always," she added, a sultry tone in her voice. “You always look delicious, yet you will not let me have a taste.”
I smiled down at her. "Go bother someone else, Jessica. You're not wanted here," I said firmly. Annoyance flickered in her beautiful eyes. She was undeniably attractive if only she weren't so venomous.
"This is your final opportunity to consider my proposition, Mark. Something to provide warmth on a cold, wintry night such as this," she uttered, her voice laced with allure. I scrutinized her eyes, detecting an underlying hint of threat concealed within her words.
"Do not tempt fate, Jess," I cautioned, "I am the last person you want to provoke. I am neither Archer Donovan nor Victor."
"We'll see," she replied, a sly smile playing on her lips. "If you change your mind, I'll be waiting in the restroom, longing for your touch," she whispered, leaning in to press her lips against mine. With a confident sway of her hips and seductive glances back at me, she walked away. I took out a handkerchief and deliberately wiped my lips, making sure she noticed.
Once the auction concluded, I observed Archer excuse himself from Barbara and make his way toward the mayor. The other woman greeted his approach with a beaming smile. I could never quite comprehend the allure Archer held over females, despite his reputation as a gangster and man-whore. But then again, I was not a woman.
Archer handed her a check, leaning in closely, their faces almost touching. I could read a mix of emotions in her expression. Whatever Archer said seemed to evoke conflicting feelings within her. She appeared both disappointed and grateful. As Archer pressed a kiss on her cheek, her lips parted with evident longing. When he pulled away, she regarded him with a look akin to how one would gaze at a delectable piece of chocolate. Archer nodded and returned to join us.
"Barbara, my dear, would you mind if Mark accompanied you back home? I need to attend to something with Jessica," he said, subtly glancing in my direction. I understood that my task for the night was to ensure Barbara's safe journey home.
"Oh, alright, that's, um, fine," Barbara responded, though Archer had already walked away. Chad promptly followed him.
"This seems to be becoming a pattern. Maybe I should start going on dates with you instead, Mark," Barbara said, sounding somewhat shy as she searched my gaze.
"Hmm... shall we?" I replied, offering her my arm. She smiled, linking her arm with mine as we made our way out. Barbara's driver awaited us outside the building, opening the back door for her. As I moved to open the front passenger door, Barbara's voice halted my action.
"Please, join me in the back," she pleaded, her voice soft and gentle. I hesitated for a moment, then nodded and walked around to the other side of the car to join her.
"The night is still young. If you don't mind, we could stop by a restaurant and have dinner," she suggested, earnestly gazing at me.
"I've already eaten, Miss Blackwell," I lied, observing her face turn a bright shade of pink. I had no idea what game she was playing. Archer's women possessed a knack for manipulation, but I had neither the patience nor the inclination to indulge them.
"Please, Mark, call me Barbara. And I haven't eaten. I had planned to have dinner with Archer, and it would be awkward to dine alone," she explained.
I wanted to remind her that she could return home and have her father's chef prepare something for her. However, such a remark would be inappropriate given my role as her bodyguard for the evening, not to mention Archer Donovan's friend. Holding her gaze to let her know I saw through her facade, I noticed her lower her gaze and her lips tremble. A furrow formed on my brow. Perhaps I was simply jaded, and her intentions were pure.
"Dinner would be nice," I acquiesced, surprising myself. She jerked her gaze back at me, her shimmering eyes searching mine. Pressing her lips together, she nodded.
"Dean, please take us to Le Bateau Privé," she instructed loudly enough for her chauffeur to hear. I knew the restaurant well; it was one of the finest establishments in Brooks. I had dined there with Archer before, and Barbara's choice of venue suggested that she had indeed intended to have dinner with him, as she claimed.
After a brief passage of time, we found ourselves seated at a table overlooking a mesmerizing waterfall, its cascading beauty captivating our senses.
Inside the luxurious restaurant, an atmosphere of sophistication enveloped us, enhanced by the presence of sparkling crystal chandeliers and sumptuous furnishings. Our meal was promptly served, and for the most part, we ate in silence. Hunger consumed me, leaving me with little desire to engage in conversation. Nevertheless, she made occasional efforts to break the silence, recounting her adventures of wine tasting in Italy.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. I had stories of my own that would surely astonish her, but they were hardly appropriate for this setting. They involved roaming the streets, scrounging for food, and my life as an enforcer, including the men I had killed or allowed to perish—among them, my own mother.
"Do you have any hobbies?" she asked, catching me off guard. Her eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity, her voice tinged with a pleading tone.
"I enjoy cooking," I replied. Her beaming smile made me chuckle, and the intense gaze she directed at me made me uneasy.
"Have you ever observed how the subtle touch of green in your blue eyes intensifies when you laugh?" she remarked, adding, "It truly makes your eyes incredibly captivating and full of depth."
"Nonsense," I replied dismissively, waving off her comment.
"And you have a dimple... adorable. You should smile more, Mark," she teased, winking at me. I chuckled, feeling a tad embarrassed.
The dinner turned out to be rather pleasant, albeit interesting. Afterward, we resumed our journey to her home, situated somewhere secluded on a hilly plain. I could never fathom the wealthy's inclination for living separately and in isolation.
"I think I had too much fun and drank too much," she confessed, surprising me as she leaned sideways and rested her head on my lap, curling up on the seat. I held my breath, unsure of how to react. The driver continued up the hill, and Barbara's cheek brushed against my groin. I swallowed a curse.
"You smell wonderful," she whispered, her hands reaching for my belt. I quickly placed my hand over hers, halting her advance. But she pressed her face against my stomach, rubbing against me like a pampered cat as she shrugged off the strap of her dress, exposing her enticing breasts. I gasped, drawing in a sudden and sharp breath.
She then took my hand and guided it, causing the back of my hand to brush against her erect nipples. Her body trembled with anticipation. I cleared my throat, feeling trapped. We were on an isolated plain, and I had two options: let her indulge herself or ask the driver to stop so I could exit the vehicle. She unzipped me, stroking my obvious bulge. I felt paralyzed. I hadn't anticipated the night taking such a sudden turn, and I didn't want to embarrass her in front of her driver. Before I could make up my mind, I felt her mouth envelop me. A surge of pleasure coursed through my veins.
Suppressing a groan, I tried to remain silent as she flicked her tongue against the tip as if it was coated with sugar and she had since longed to do so for an eternity. Barbara had truly caught me off guard. I had let my guard down, never expecting this from her. But then again, she was Archer's lover, and he had a penchant for attracting peculiar women.
"Barb," I called, attempting to halt her actions, but her grip remained firm. I couldn't determine whether the driver was aware of what was transpiring, but he made no indication. Swallowing hard, my eyes rolled back in their sockets, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of her skillful ministrations. I tried not to make a sound as she continued to stroke me with her tongue, her warm saliva coating me. With a firm grip around my shaft, she took me halfway into her mouth, evoking a primal desire within me. It had been a while since I had been intimate with a woman, and the sensations rushing through me felt heavenly. Allowing myself to relax, I surrendered to her desires.
Before long, I reached a climax, and she eagerly licked me clean. As she raised her face to meet mine, I noticed a glimmer in her eyes that I couldn't quite decipher.
"Please don't hate me, Mark. I want you. I believe being with Archer was a mistake," she whispered, her lips hovering just inches from mine.
"Barb..." I began to respond, but a blinding flash of light from behind us caught my attention. Glancing through the driver-side mirror, I noticed a vehicle hurtling toward us at an alarming speed. My heart skipped a beat, and instinct kicked in.
Urgently, I pushed Barbara back into an upright position, swiftly composed myself, and reached for the gun concealed in my ankle strap.
"What's happening?" Barbara asked, panic evident in her voice.
"We're being followed," I muttered. Her gasp conveyed her shock. "No matter what happens, don't stop the car!" I instructed the driver just as the pursuing vehicle slammed forcefully into our rear.
Barbara screamed, "Not again!" as our car lurched forward dangerously.
"Step on it!" I yelled at the driver, simultaneously winding down my side door and preparing to return fire. But before I could react, another vehicle collided with us from Barbara's side, followed by a hail of gunfire. It became clear that our lives were in grave danger.
The assailants continued to apply pressure, forcing our vehicle toward a nearby cliff. Escape became our only chance at survival.
Barbara's hysteria grew, her cries filling the air. I struggled to open my jammed door, resorting to repeatedly kicking it with both feet until it finally gave way. A searing pain shot through my shoulder, evidence of a bullet finding its mark.
Without a moment's hesitation, I quickly took off my suit jacket and made Barbara wear it. Securing my mobile phone in the inner pocket, I drew her close in my arms, holding her tightly. As we stepped out of the car, I whispered softly against her hair, "Don't worry, Barbara. Archer will find you."
“No!” Her piercing screams echoed in my ears as bullets rained down upon us relentlessly. The surge of adrenaline pulsating within me made it impossible to gauge whether we had suffered fatal injuries. Escaping became the sole focus at that moment.
However, as we hit the water and sank deeper, and deeper. In a horrifying turn of events, a sudden explosion illuminated the surroundings, engulfing our car in flames. The once serene water now took on a haunting crimson hue. Exhausted and overwhelmed, my consciousness waned, gradually succumbing to the encroaching darkness a single thought reverberated through my mind: "Jessica, you treacherous bitch!" And then, oblivion claimed me.