Chapter 64: A game
Nico’s POV
What else was I supposed to think when an organization like Yellow Spider suddenly reached out to me out of the blue?
They weren’t amateurs. Far from it. They had a reputation—loyal to their contracts, precise in their dealings.
It wasn’t an offer. It was a probe.
The most reasonable conclusion was they were testing the waters, making sure there wouldn’t be a conflict of interest and that alone was enough to put me on edge.
Why would there be?
The question lingered at the forefront of my mind as my gaze settled on Carmen, who sat across from me looking composed, almost too composed.
Anyone else might have missed it, but I had known her long enough to recognize the subtle tension hiding beneath that calm exterior—the slight tightness in her eyes, the slight pause in her breathing.
She was worried. That alone confirmed more than I needed to know.
Still, I had no intention of calling her out on it....yet.
I wasn’t the least bit concerned about Yellow Spider itself. They were powerful but not enough to be a problem to me.
Slowly, I folded my hands together, leaning back into my chair as I let the silence stretch between us, deliberate and heavy. It was a tactic I had mastered long ago—silence made people uncomfortable, forced them to reveal more than they intended.
Carmen didn’t break.
She mirrored me instead, leaning back slightly, her gaze locked onto mine with that same calculating sharpness that only ever appeared when she was hiding something.
"Is there anything you’d like to say?" I asked finally, my tone calm, almost casual, as though the question held no real weight.
She hesitated.
It was brief—so brief most wouldn’t have noticed—but I did. And then she shook her head.
"No."
I didn’t press.
Instead, I gave a small nod, as if accepting her answer at face value, before lifting a hand and gesturing toward her.
"Come here."
My voice was softer now, lacking the edge of command. I didn’t need to order her. In fact, I preferred it when she chose to come to me on her own.
The faint frown that crossed her face didn’t escape me, nor did the way she lingered for just a second before pushing herself up from her seat. Still, she came.
That was enough.
I tapped my thighs lightly, watching her approach, half-expecting her to protest, to argue, to make some form of resistance—but she didn’t. She merely glanced at my legs before lowering herself onto them with quiet compliance.
It amused me more than it should have.
But the moment she settled, I shifted, my hands gripping her hips as I lifted her slightly and adjusted her position, guiding her until she sat astride me instead, her legs on either side of mine, her body pressed far closer than before.
"Comfortable?" I asked, a teasing edge slipping into my voice as I studied her expression.
Her glare was immediate. Sharp. Unimpressed.
I smirked, my hand tightening briefly against her, squeezing just enough to draw a reaction. She shifted slightly at the contact, but she didn’t move away, didn’t resist, didn’t break eye contact.
That, more than anything, held my attention. There was something I wanted from her.
Something I had been considering for a while now, turning it over in my mind, weighing whether she was ready for it... or whether I simply wanted to push her there.
And with Yellow Spider suddenly entering the picture, my patience was wearing thin.
"You’re not ready to have sex, right?" I asked, the question deliberate, my smirk lingering as I watched her closely.
Her reaction was immediate.
She shook her head firmly, making her stance clear without hesitation.
Good.
I nodded once, accepting it without argument. What I wanted wasn’t something I could force—not truly. It required a different kind of willingness, a different kind of surrender.
Slowly, I lifted my hand, brushing my fingers along her jaw before sliding my thumb across her lower lip. She didn’t pull away.
Instead, she parted her lips slightly. An unspoken permission.
My gaze darkened as I pressed my thumb further, slipping it into her mouth, watching the way she accepted it without resistance, her eyes never leaving mine.
So she understood her role in this.
That much was clear.
My gaze drifted downward, tracing the line of her body, lingering briefly before returning to her face. I had expected some level of embarrassment, some visible reaction—but she remained composed, steady, controlled.
Still...
"I want to cum in your mouth."
The words left me slowly, deliberately, my tone low as I held her gaze, watching—waiting.
This time, she flinched. It was subtle, but it was there. Not quite disgust. Not entirely refusal.
Something in between.
Her eyes hardened slightly, that familiar glare returning, but she didn’t move. She didn’t pull away from me, didn’t try to stand, didn’t break the position she was in.
That alone said enough.
And for a brief moment, something in my chest tightened, my pulse picking up just slightly as I held her there, waiting.
I didn’t rush her. I wanted her answer. But just as I watched her lips part, as though she were about to speak—
The alarm blared. Sharp. Loud. Violent.
It cut through the room with a shrill intensity that shattered the moment instantly.
Carmen jerked in surprise, and I reacted without hesitation, pushing her off my lap as I moved in the same breath. The shift from control to readiness was immediate, instinctive.
I pulled open the drawer, grabbing the gun inside and checking it with practiced efficiency before turning toward the shelf. The books were nothing more than a cover—I shoved them aside, revealing the weapon hidden behind them before grabbing it as well.
Lighter. Automatic. More efficient in a prolonged fight.
I turned back to Carmen, tossing her the smaller handgun without a word.
"Are we under attack?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tension in her eyes.
I didn’t answer immediately.
Instead of heading for the main door, I moved toward the wall, reaching for the painting and pulling it aside to reveal the concealed lever behind it. A quick pull, and the hidden door slid open.
"Secret room?" she said, already moving toward it. "Not surprised."
She didn’t hesitate.
Neither did I.
We stepped inside, and I shut it behind us just as the noise outside intensified, the muffled sounds of gunfire bleeding faintly through the walls.
The room lit up with screens—camera feeds from every corner of the estate.
And what I saw confirmed everything.
"They came prepared," Carmen murmured.
The front gate was gone—blown apart completely. Armed men flooded the entrance, moving fast, coordinated, cutting down guards with ruthless precision.
But something was off.
I watched carefully, my eyes narrowing slightly as the pattern became clearer.
They weren’t advancing.
"They’re not trying to get inside," Carmen said suddenly, her voice sharp with realization. "They’re targeting the guards... thinning them out."
She stepped closer to the screens, her focus intense.
"They’re already planning to retreat."
I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening slightly on the weapon in my hand.
"...They want something," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "Either they’re trying to weaken my defenses so I’ll replace them with men they control—"
"—or they’re testing you," Carmen cut in smoothly, her gaze flicking toward me. "Trying to see your last line of defense."
Her eyes shifted around the room.
"...which is here."
I gave a small nod.
Exactly.
A slow, humorless smile tugged at my lips as I looked back at the screens, watching the chaos unfold.
It was bold.
Reckless, even.
To throw away men like this just for information meant only one thing.
They were confident.
Because if this was a game—Then I was more than willing to play.
