The whole point of being an ovian mercenary is to do what needs to be done, morals be damned.
But as much as I want that house, I don’t want blood money. And if that silver-haired man buys that house for me, it’ll be a blood house.
I won’t be able to live with myself if I live there because I killed someone, least of all Sophia.
I’m so utterly fucked. I’ve gone and fucked up, and I don’t know what to do. What should I do?
I need to think things through with a clearer head. Maybe things will be clearer in the morning. Right now, I’m too… I don’t even know what I am. I’m lost. I’m confused, but most of all, I’m annoyed.
Annoyed that the silver-haired man wants Sophia dead.
Annoyed that I accepted the job.
Annoyed that Sophia did something to warrant a mercenary being hired to take her out.
As if this is her fault. It’s not.
Head down, I march away from there and don't stop until I reach my office. I've built a desk inside for it, and I'm working on adding another room for a bed. It would be nice to have a bathroom as well, so I wouldn't have to go into restaurants to use theirs. There's a nearby lake I use to wash up in. I don't do plumbing, though, and if I get the house, I can just convert one of the rooms to my office.
Nah. I’m not sure I want to mix business with pleasure.
Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing with Sophia, though? Mixing business with pleasure?
“Ovian,” I mumble, curling my fingers into fists.
My fingers tap my ear to activate my chip, and I call around the various Kurians who came to Earth before me. The first three don’t answer, but then Strol does.
“What is it, Tox?” Strol asks.
“Busy?” I ask.
“Isabella’s taking a shower, and I was thinking of joining her, so yeah, a little busy.”
“Go ahead,” I mumble.
“What is it?” he asks. “I answered for a reason.”
“What was it like when you met Isabella?” I blurt out, feeling like a fool.
“Where the ovian are you?” Strol demands, sounding very much like his overlord father.
“On Earth.”
“You met a woman, huh?”
“Yes. I can’t get her out of my mind.”
Strol laughs. “It seems to me that us Kurians know almost immediately when we find the one we’re to be with.”
“But I don’t even know her,” I protest.
“So get to know her. Let her know you. That’s more important because you already know enough about her.”
“But what if it’s just lust?”
“Is it?” Strol asks.
“How the fuck should I know? I don’t even ovian know her! I told you that!”
“And I told you to get to know her,” he reminds me.
“Have you always been this condescending?”
“I’m not being condescending. You’re freaking the fuck out because you met her, and you want her, but deep down, you know you want her for more than just your bed.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“So go do something about it. Talk to her. Abduct her. Whatever you gotta do, but just know that Brock and the others, they didn’t fuck things up, so there’s a good chance that even if you did fuck up, you can make things right.”
And he disconnects the call.
Yeah, okay. I would glower at the Kurian if he were standing in front of me. So much easier said than done, and I might’ve fucked things up.
But maybe Strol’s advice isn’t all bad. I can make things right. I can fix this.
All I have to do is talk to Sophia without the silver-hair man knowing what I’m up to.
That would be a whole lot easier if I knew how that man was tracking me. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe he just said that to try to scare me.
Well, he is scaring me, and there’s a time crunch hanging over my head. Not just for the house, either. I have a feeling that silver-haired man won’t stop anytime soon, and if I take too long, he’s liable to send someone else after Sophia.
I’ll save her, and then I’ll win her heart.
If I have to abduct her, I will, but I have a feeling it won’t come to that.
8
Sophia
It’s lonely at my place.
That’s not something I’ve felt in a long time. Normally, I just do what I want, enjoying that I don’t have to answer to anyone. I keep the place tidy because I want to, not because I have a lot of company. I do things for me and no one else.
Maybe it’s the alcohol making me feel the need to be around someone. Maybe it’s because I did feel Tox’s cock start to stir against my ass before I threw him.
Maybe it's because I left him behind, and I regret that.
Do I, though? Do I regret it? I'm not sure, to be honest. I'm not sure about a lot of things.
My cell rings, and I answer without looking to see who’s calling.
“Hello?”
“Soph! Why haven’t you been returning my texts?”
I hold the phone away from me and check. “Ines, there aren’t any missed texts.”
“Bull. You never got your phone checked out to see why you can only send and not receive, am I right?”
“Sorry.”
“It should be on your to-do list,” my best friend gripes. “What if a client tries to text you?”
“I tell them to call.”
“For being an introvert, you like talking on the phone too much.”
“Better than face-to-face—”
"Unless it's payday," she finishes for me.
We both laugh.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your texts. What’s up?” I settle on my couch, crossing my ankles and placing my heels on my coffee table.
“It’s Jason.”
“What did he do now?”
Jason is Ines’ twelve-year-old.
“He won’t stop backtalking. He rolls his eyes constantly, and—”
“Rolls his eyes?” I murmur.
I know she must be rolling hers right now. “Why did you repeat me?” she demands.
“I don’t know.”
"Mmm, hmm. You know why."
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” I accuse.
“I did not!”
"Mmm, hmm," I return, mimicking her.
“You know what?”
“No, you know what? Jason is every bit your son. You backtalked
