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Assassins: Warfare

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Zayn and I finally get home after an exhausting day; I shut the door behind me and let out a exasperated yawn.

“Come to bed baby,” Zayn says and beckons me to him.

I take off my leather jacket and struggle to hang it up, so it falls on the floor.

When I attempt to retrieve it, Zayn hoist me into his strong arms.

“Leave it, baby. I’ll come back and hang it up, you’re too tired,” he says.

I limply nod my head and cuddle against Zayn’s muscular chest.

He clutches me tightly as I shut my eyes and breathe in deeply.

Zayn ascends the staircase in the foyer and walks to our bedroom.

Once we’re there, he enters and shuts the door with his foot.

“Let’s take a shower,” Zayn says in a suggestive tone. “We may never come out,” I reply sleepily and giggle.

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” he responds with a lopsided grin and I shake my head, but smile at him nonetheless.

When we enter the bathroom, I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor.

Therefore, exposing myself to the mirror as Zayn flips the shower knob on.

Once I’m fully naked, I step under the water and shut the glass door, which becomes the barrier between us.

“That would explain why I saw your nipples through your dress,” Zayn says cooly with a coy smirk.

“Stop gawking at me and get in the shower,” I reply sheepishly.

I turn my face away, hiding the shy smile on my face from his comment.

I pull the hair tie out of my hair and allow my ponytail to fall down.

I expel a sigh of relief as it cascades down my back and slump my shoulders.

As the water douses my achy muscles, they twinge and I hiss. “But it’s such a gorgeous body, Angel,” Zayn says and hops in the shower beside me.

He wraps his arms around me and I grab the body wash from the shelf.

“Sit down,” I say and turn around in his embrace to face him.

I softly push against Zayn’s chest and straddle his lap once he’s seated on the porcelain bench behind us.

I take the loofah and wash the dirt and grime from his chest.

Water droplets trace the lines of his abdomen as his muscles contract and flex from the scorching hot water.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Zayn whispers.

He swipes my hair from my forehead, which is saturated from sloughs of shower and decides to make conversation when we’re both concurrently naked.

“Talk to me,” I reply and look into his eyes that are curious and assertive.

Zayn let’s his hands rest below my waistline and looks up at me.

“What do you want to do about your company with Brit since they asked you to take over?” Zayn asks me; I inhale a deep breath and sigh afterward.

It seems like yesterday I was launching daggers at a target or penetrating paper with bullets but now I’m the boss.


It’s been overwhelming these past four months trying to organize weaponry and training is exhausting.

Being the boss comes with advantages and its strong disadvantages for sure.

“I’m trying to figure it out as I go,” I reply and watch my actions still.

“If you need help-“ I cut him off.

“Zayn I don’t need anything from you. This is a learning experience I have to figure out by myself. Let me,” I say.

I grasp Zayn’s face and fiercely stare into his eyes, making my notion clear.

“I don’t want you to be stressed out. It doesn’t look good on you,” he replies and presses his forehead against mine.

“Well, that’s part of the experience. The only way I can fail is if I don’t try and if I don’t try then what’s the point of learning something new if I’m just going to shy away from the challenges?” I ask him rhetorically and kiss him.

I throw the loofa I was using originally on the floor and stand in a puddle of soap studs. “That was a loaded response,” Zayn remarks afterward.

He also chuckles with a soft smile on his lips as I flash him a sly grin before kneeling down to scrub my scalp.

“Head massage?” Zayn asks me suggestively, to which I nod my head.

“Be my guest,” I say.

Zayn takes his hands and squeezes a glob of soap into his hands, then gently combes his fingers throughout my hair; scrubbing the numerous follicles.

As his knuckles massage the base of my nape, I let out a satisfied groan and throw my head back. “I love you,” I whisper aloud and slump my posture. I never knew that,” Zayn replies sarcastically and I backhand him playfully.

“Ouch. What was that for?” He asks me and frowns. “Being an ass,” I say.

I purposely push my back against his chest and we fall to the ground.

Then I take the opportunity and pounce on top of his soaked physique.

“I like this position,” Zayn says and salivates his lips in such a perverted way that I roll my eyes and shake my head.

“You’re in trouble.” I reply, and put both of my hands on his sternum, stretching out my arms. “Oh am I now?” He asks.

Zayn smiles at me childishly with mischief sparkling in his blue eyes.

He then takes the liberty of giving my ass a squeeze and slaps it thereafter, to which I jump and squeak. “BABY-!”

I stare at him appalled with both of my lips gaped open in shock.

However, Zayn merely tilts his head to the side in an amused manner, so I decide to play his little perverted game.

I lean down and pull his lower lip between my sharp teeth, causing Zayn to dig his fingernails into my hips. “What are you going to do about it, hmm?” I ask and Zayn kisses my lips in response.

“I have an idea…or two,” I say.

I get up from my current position on top of him and wait for him to notice.

“Rub my back,” I say in a rather demanding tone, followed by a cocky smirk to silently tease him.

“That was not what I had in mind babe,” Zayn says and diffuses.

“You’ve been a naughty boy,” I reply back and my smile widens.

Instead of fulfilling my request, Zayn decides to bury his face in my neck and I wrap his arms around my waist.

As I secure them tightly, he nibbles the skin of my nape with his flesh.

Hence, he teases me with those bewitched lips of his and I throw my head back to grant him further access.

I rest my head on his shoulder and allow the warm water to clean us both.

Our legs curl together and the warmth between us comforts me.

“Hey. Angel wake up,” Zayn whispers in my ear and shakes me awake.

I groan from something cold on my bare skin and goosebumps form there.

I’ve managed to fall asleep in the shower and now the water is ice on my flesh.

“It’s time for bed,” Zayn says and lifts my drowsy form into his arms.

He lays me on the bed and I snuggle into the covers instantly.

Zayn cuddles beside me and secures his arms around my waist.

“I love you,” he says to me and kisses the back of my neck sweetly.

I smile, rolling over to face him and drape my thigh across his legs.

I rest my head on the pillows and fall into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

“Mhm…” I groan groggily and lift my head to look at the analog clock.

3 am.

I salivate my lips and rub the walls of my throat, noting how parched it is.

I throw the covers off of me and get up in my lacy lingerie.

Beside me, Zayn groans in his sleep and slaps the side of my bed. “Ana?” He asks and grunts as his eyelids shift.

I lean over and kiss his cheek to ease him back into an unconscious state, then shut the bedroom door behind me and walk downstairs until I’m in the kitchen.

I grab some water when a loud crash disrupts the silence of the house.


“AH!” I shriek as the chandelier comes crashing down in the living room.

I hurl into a fearful ball and clutch myself tightly. “RING!”

My ears ring from the thunderous sound and I hold my heart in my hands.

The lively organ beats out of my chest as my breath collapses.

Zayn races downstairs with an irrational expression on his face and looks around frantically. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” He asks authoritatively.

“CRACK!” Metal cracks against my skull and I crash to the ground.

“FUCK!” I exclaim.

I hold my head in my hands as pain attacks my cranium ferociously.

“ANASTASIA!” Zayn bellows.

My vision blurs into pixelates, which I can’t decipher and pain barrages my thoughts like fog covering the streets.

“You Italian fucking swine!” A female voice exclaims sharply.

My throat squeezes inward, cut off by a strong set of hands and I wheeze.

“Z-Zay-!” I call out and croak.

“You‘ll fucking pay for messing with my life whore,” a female voice says.

Then a sharp blade lands next to my eye and I pause my struggles.

Immediately, I fear for my life as the blade is only centimeters from my pupil.

This gives me time to look up and recognize who the female is.

“Nadia?” I ask aloud.

“That’s right bitch,” she declares and grabs a fistful of my hair; she tosses me up and over the kitchen countertop.

Then she yanks on the roots of my hair and slams my head into the tile.

My nose cracks upon impact as the bones shatter abruptly on the inside.

“FUCK!” I shriek painfully.

I roll over to use my hips and knock Nadia’s erratic form to the side, however, when I attempt to punch her, she twists my arm away and shoves me into glass doors by the dining room.

My head whirls in the process as I crash against the door and it shatters.

I fall and glass litters the floor surrounding my discombobulated figure.

“You think you can just escape my wrath, bitch?” Nadia asks me.

She grips my jaw with her acrylic nails and digs them into my skin.

I wince and hiss with blood trickling out of the side of my mouth.

“Fucking whore,” Nadia comments and thrusts my head into the wall.

Get up, Ana!

Fight back!

Fight back, you coward!

Get up!

“Once he’s had his fair share of your damn pussy he’ll just throw you away. He doesn’t fucking love you Anastasia...” she begins to say, but pauses.

Nadia grabs ahold of my throat again and I struggle to breathe.

“Anastasia!” Zayn exclaims.

I begin to choke; feeling my body slowly slipping from existence.

My breath disintegrates as my eyes roll into the back of my head.

“Or should I say ‘Cloak’?” Nadia finishes in my ear at a whisper tone with a chilling smile on her lips. I tremble beneath her and grip the hand that holds my esophagus captive.

My flight or fight response is delayed as Nadia continues to berate me.

“Leave her alone!” Zayn exclaims again, except Nadia punches me in the face instead of heeding Zayn’s threat.

The sheer force knocks the wind out of me and I tumble down.

Blood seeps out my nostrils, causing me to smell and taste iron.

I cough up bodily fluid as the contents leak from my trembling lips.

“TAKE HER NOW!” Nadia demands and grips a chunk of my hair.

“OW!” I shriek and wince with a pair of gritted, bloody teeth.

Nadia tugs on my roots roughly and drags me across the tile floor.

She tosses me in front of a group of men and I roll around like a tumbleweed.

I get knocked into a pair of heavy feet and lay limp where I am. “Get the fuck away from her!” Zayn shrieks and receives a punch to the face to shut him up.

“BABY-!” I scream but get cut off.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” A male ridicules me and slaps me across the face.

I then find myself manhandled and shoved into the back of a van. “ANASTASIA!"

Zayn shouts and reaches out for me, yet, I can barely decipher my surroundings.

The only memory I have left is a picture of Zayn lying helpless on the ground.

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