The bulky man hesitated.
"I asked you if you succeeded. I don't need your silence. Answer me."
"No… We didn't succeed."
He straightened up and clasped his hands behind him.
The man seated at the window still didn't turn around his chair. "I paid you the complete amount of money you and your team requested, Ezekial, and you came back with a straight face to tell me that you couldn't complete the job? Are you trying to tell me that you are incompetent and I merely wasted half a million?"
"All my men are dead, sir," the man Ezekial ground out, balling his fists. "Every single one of them I took with me is dead, and I barely managed to get out. I could have died as well—"
"Then you should have. That way, I wouldn't regret the money wasted. The only thing I wanted to hear the very second you walked into my office was that the job was done." The man questioned, "How couldn't you kill that girl? One little woman?"
Ezekial's left gray eye twitched, the scar across his face, deep and angry. "It's not like that. There was someone with her."
"Someone?"
"Yes. That multi-billionaire, Zayne Mancini."
"Zayne Mancini?"
"You wouldn't believe me, but I felt like I wasn't dealing with a human. He took out all my men and made it out with her with only a single shot. It—"
"So you're telling me, it was two versus how many of you? Ten of your men. A single man took on all of you without issues? He killed all your men and you barely made it out alive. Do you know how pathetic you sound, Ezekial? You had chances to kill that woman, she was holding him down, you could have taken out Zayne Mancini for all I cared, but no…you're here, giving me excuses?"
Ezekial's hands balled into fists.
"I'm not a man that makes excuses. But Zayne Mancini didn't feel anything like a human. He—"
"You have one month to kill that girl," the man interrupted. "I don't care how you do it, or whatever method you use. One month is all you have and if you can't take her out by then. Ezekial, I won't even ask for a refund. You and your men will be goners. Because if there is one thing you have to be aware of, it is that I'm not a man who likes his time wasted. Get out of my office."
Ezekial hesitated, but bowed and left the office, stomping his way down the hall.
"Incompetent? Me incompetent?"
He felt amused, laughing.
"I've never failed in an assassination, you miserable old man. Running your mouth because you hadn't been there to see the beast of him yourself."
His fist slammed into the wall, burning the frustration deeper down.
He recalled Zayne Mancini getting shot. So, he should be bedridden for at least two weeks. The shot may have not hit the heart directly, but it was a near miss.
This would be his best chance at taking the girl out. He didn't need the Mancini's interference. Not in this job.
Drawing a deep breath, he straightened up and stormed out of the building.
He didn't need one month.
He knew how to do his job. Yesterday was merely a fluke and nothing more.
—————
Zayne walked into the room, drying his hair with a towel. He shut the door, turning only to pause at the sight of Evelyn.
She was spread on the bed, hands and legs apart as if she wanted the bed for herself.
"You look…disheveled," he said.
"What can I say?" Evelyn shrugged. "I know I always look impeccable, but what can a girl do? Sometimes, you have to manage your situation as it is. Don't judge me."
"This is what you tore my clothes for…"
"Tear is the wrong word, Peacock. I used scissors."
"Could you not call me a peacock?"
"No. You call me a little monster, you don't hear me complaining. I'm going to call you whatever I want. Deal with it." She smirked. "Peacock."
His jaw clenched.
She jackknifed herself into a sitting position and bow-crossed her legs, arms folded. She looked comfortable.
"Aren't you going to come to bed?"
"To bed?" Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. "The guest room next to mine is yours. Take it."
"A big fat no. I'm not doing that."
"Meaning?"
"Why would you want me to sleep in the guest room?" She cocked her head to the side. "Who asks their betrothed to sleep in the guest room? You're not a gentleman at all."
He threw his head back and swallowed.
Evelyn watched the movement of his Adam's apple, not at all hidden by the tattoo he had drawn on that part of his neck to his arms, broad defined chest. They weren't a lot, just little fine tattoos, scattered all over and down to his torso, even as far as following the V line into his pants.
She rapidly blinked, darting her gaze away.
Zayne Mancini was cold by nature, yes, but he looked good. That was undeniable.
Although, from the way he dressed like a professor, you'd never really think he had his body inked. Until he stripped of course.
"I need you to understand something." His voice dragged her back to reality and she lifted her head to meet his gaze. He crossed the room, stopping at the edge of the bed where he proceeded to squat down, elbows on his knees. "I don't joke about my sleep."
Evelyn went on her hands and knees, crawling closer until her face was barely three inches away from his.
"What does that mean, Zayne?"
"I won't let you interfere with my sleep," he said. "I know what you're trying to do. You'll get on my nerves with every chance you get just to make sure you'll win—"
"What better way is there?"
"—Thing is, it doesn't matter, Evelyn. And you know why? All I have to do is see that you don't get on my nerves. And how do I do that?"
She raised a brow.
Zayne rose to his feet, grabbing her by the armpits. He lifted her off the bed and turned, walking to the door.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" She wiggled in his grip, feet dangling as she glanced behind at the door they were approaching.
"Zayne, put me down! Put me on the floor, right now!" she demanded.