Page 57 of The Darkest Hour
Lightning flashed.
Havoc gazed up at the dark sky. “From what I remember about Paris. . .he grew up in a Catholic household. Maybe when he was a teen he became fascinated with fucking a nun.”
“Or maybe a nun fucked him.”
“Maybe.” Havoc put his view back on me. “Then again, it could be simpler. Maybe he just likes the idea of a powerful woman subdued, even symbolically. Putting a dangerous female assassin in a nun outfit—it all fits with that kind of odd fantasy.”
Finally, the rain faded away leaving behind a gentle wind.
“Yesterday. . .” I grinned. “Did you get turned on with the woman and all the octopuses in the tank?”
He chuckled. “Aww. You saw that too?”
“I did.”
“Of course I was turned on.”
“Of course?”
“I’m a man of many tastes, Onyx. The conventional and the unconventional both find their place in my desires.”
He watched me, and I thought about the moment on the yacht where he’d been choking and groping me.
It was fucked up but I had been absolutely turned on, even though it was against my will.
What was it about the mind or the psyche that would trigger hot lust in me from such a perverse scenario that was also terrifying and dangerous?
And was it truly lust?
Or had it been just fear and adrenaline turning my body on?
It was as much a mystery to me as Paris's fantasy of the submissive nun.
Havoc spoke, “Then, Paris decided to kill you. Why?”
“As you said, he probably was trying to save millions.”
“Paris has billions. No. . .” Havoc shook his head. “Killing you was personal. He probably didn’t even think you could get me. I’d just killed thirty-five assassins in the last month—men and women hoping to get the bounty on my head. Surely, he knew your odds were low.”
I widened my eyes. “No. . .”
“Yes.” He studied me. “You had a sexual relationship with him. Something doesn’t add up.”
I considered that. “Maybe.”
“Now you say maybe. Why?”
“After six months of our. . .situation, I grew bored and decided to cut Paris off. A week later, he gave me this job.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
Havoc's expression darkened as he processed this information. “Paris was heartbroken.”
“That can’t be right. There was nothing real between us. It was just. . .convenient.”
“To you, but to him. . .it was more, so much more that instead of letting you be with someone else, he thought it would be better to kill you.”