Anxiety and nervousness filled my body as the tension grew in the room. He looked at me with a hard expression on his face as he cocked the gun. I stayed in my seat, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves.

I watched as he reached over and grabbed his phone without breaking eye contact with me. He looked down at his iPhone, and his eyes started to scan something on the screen. I saw his eyebrow raise slightly as he read something on the screen before turning his attention back at me.

"Blaze Simmons, right?" He said in a deadly tone as he looked back up at me slowly, the loaded gun in his hand rested against the table and still aimed directly at my head.

"Yes." I answered quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Tell me... Blaze." He said as he scowled slightly when my fake name came out of his lips. "How is a behavior therapist able to take down three men, twice her size, with her arms fucking tied?" He said as he slightly furrowed his eyebrows. This man was unreadable, his emotionless demeanor would put the stoic British Royal Guards to shame.

"My foster parents owed a martial studio in New York. I've been training since I was 10... and have a black belt nearly every fighting style." I said honestly in a quiet voice. He was by far the most intimidating man I've ever met in my life, and I took a deep breath trying to regain my composure and confidence.

"Why were you in London?" He asked as he continued to look at me with a deadly glare.

"I haven't been on a vacation for years, and always wanted to see London." I said honestly again. I haven't been on a vacation ever, and London was always one of the places I've wanted to see. This little interrogation was easier than I thought.

"By yourself? No family or friends?" He asked in a serious tone.

"I have no family. Work too much to make any friends." I said honestly again, I really didn't have any friends.

"You seem rather calm for a woman who was almost sold into sex trafficking." He said coldly as he reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a cigarette. He brought it to his mouth before picking up a lighter on the desk, inhaling as he burned the end of it.

"I just killed a man, and knocked two unconscious after they tried to rape me. Now I'm sitting in an office, with a gun pointed at me. I'm in shock, so excuse me if my natural coping mechanisms are not up to your expectations." I said boldly as I glared at him, making his jaw clench at my words.

"What did they do to you?" He said after a few moments of silence, his deep and deadly tone causing a shiver of fear to crawl up my spine.

"Drugged me. Kidnapped me. Then three of them tried to rape me." I said as I leaned back in my chair. "I'm assuming that this is also an inappropriate time to ask for a cigarette, huh?" I said as I tilted my head up slightly and leaned it against the back of the plush chair.

"Extremely inappropriate." He said as he narrowed his eyes at me and leaned back in his leather chair and looked back down at his phone as he bit the cigarette between his teeth.

"You have a criminal record. A pretty extensive one at that. Grad Theft Auto, Arson, Robbery, and dozens of assault charges...interesting." He said in a low voice as he raised an eyebrow slightly and exhaled the cigarette smoke from the side of his mouth.

"I was a young kid with a fucked up past and anger issues. That's why I became a behavior therapist, to help people who were just like me." I said, which technically was half the truth. Being a CIA agent and taking down the criminals who caused the problems was much more beneficial than just talking about someone feels and prescribing useless medication.

I watched as he stood up from his seat with his gun still in his hand and aimed at me. He slowly walked to the front of the desk, and bent down in front of me. He tilted his head slightly, and his grey eyes pierced through mine as if he was examining me.

"So are you going to let me go, or what?" I asked as I looked at him, still leaning back in my chair with my head slight raised and my bound hands resting on my bare thighs.

"If you could get revenge on the men who tried to rape you, would you?" He asked curiously as he grabbed the cigarette between his teeth and exhaled.

"Absolutely." I whispered honestly. If my hands weren't bound, I'd make those sick fuckers suffer until they begged for death.

"I'll make you a deal then." He said as he turned the cigarette in between his fingers and held it out to me. I lifted my chest up, and leaned forward as he held the cigarette for me. I inhaled deeply, goosebump rising all over my skin as my lips grazed his fingers. Only a sick fucker like me would get turned on from being bound, held at gun point, and interrogated by one of the biggest criminals in the world... I have some serious issues.

"I'll let you get your revenge, and you'll work for me." He said in a low and serious tone as he watched me exhale the cigarette smoke into the air.

"And if I say no?" I said as I looked up at him, our faces only a few inches apart. His masculine scent flooded my senses, and my breathing slightly hitched at our closeness.

"I'll kill you." I said in a low voice with a serious expression painted across his face.

"And who are you, exactly?" I asked as I leaned forward and inhaled from the cigarette again, my eyes never leaving his.

"Ryder Calderon. You'll work for me. For the European Mafia." He said as he continued to stare into my eyes. His tone and demeanor would easily strike fear into the hearts of anyone he meets, and I struggled trying to remain calm and collected in his presence.

Well at least I'm in the fucking right place.

"And what would I be doing exactly?" I asked quietly, exhaling the smoke out of the side of my mouth.

"Whatever the fuck I tell you to do." He said with danger dripping off his tone.

"Sounds promising." I said sarcastically with a dull tone as I leaned back in my chair, creating a bit of distance between us to help me clear my head of his intoxicating scent.

"Take your pick. Work for me, or get a bullet between your eyes. What'll it be." He stated as he looked at me. Silence stretched between us as I analyzed the situation. This was my opening into his organization, I can't fuck this up.

"Alright Mr. Calderon. You have yourself a deal." I said as I continued to look at him with an unemotional expression. On the outside I may seem cool, calm, and collected, but my body and mind were in a frenzy of anxiety and anticipation.

"Good choice." He stated as he stood up and grabbed the rope binding my wrists together. He pulled me up to my feet, and started to walk me out of the office.

The house we were in was lavish and expensive. It was modern, and the glass tables and artwork at adorned the hallway added to the upscale and exquisite environment. My heels clinked against the black marble underneath my feet. We continued to walk down the long and spacious hallway, passing large black wooden doors, until we arrived at a large light grey door at the end of the hallway. Ryder opened it up, revealing a sleek elevator inside. It was plain, and had black marble lining the walls and the floor.

Silence stretched between us as I sat beside him, watching as he clicked a button, making the elevator start to descend. I studied his features as his gaze remained locked in front of him. His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he was thinking or contemplating something. His masculine scent filled the elevator, and I had to stop myself from inhaling the marvelous scent as we stood in such a close proximity.

He looked down at me, that serious and unemotional expression still plastered on his flawless face. Our eyes met for a moment, before the elevator chimed, piercing through the thick tension that loomed in the air of the elevator.

The sleek doors opened to revel another hallway. The corridor was dim, and had an eerie atmosphere. The walls and floor were cement, and metal doors lined both sides of the hallway. There were a few lights hanging from the ceiling, one even flickering towards the end, making me feel like I just jumped right into a horror film.

Ryder grabbed the rope around my hands again as he walked out of the elevator, dragging me behind him again. He stopped in front of the first door to the left, and scanned his hand on a sensor installed on the wall to the right of the door. The hand scanner flashed green, before the loud sound of the door unlocking echoed off the walls.

He pulled me inside, and my eyes fell upon the two men I left alive, tied to a chair and covered in blood. There was a metal table behind them, with four chairs surrounding it. There were hundreds of tools hanging on the back wall, and it had every torture device you could think of.

Standing in front of them was a woman. She was taller than me, probably by a few inches, and had short black hair that reached her shoulder. She was thin, but I could tell she was muscular and strong. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, and her skin was splattered with blood. She was wearing a black long sleeved shirt, that was pushed up to her elbows. Her black skinny jeans were ripped, and she wore a pair of black stylish thigh high boots. Woman has a good sense of style, that's forsure. In the corner of the room was four other men. They were leaning against the wall, watching us as we walked inside the dim lit room. 

"Did you get the information we needed?" Ryder asked as he pulled me in front of him, making me stumble slightly, before he slammed the door closed behind us.

"Yup." The short haired girl responded before she turned around to look at us. Her thick eyebrows were furrowed slightly, and her hazel eyes were shining underneath her thick eyelashes. She had full lips, and her nose was pointed. She seemed young, maybe even younger than me.

"Fuckers been continuing the operation after we shut it down a two years ago. Selling to the Russians mainly." She said as she looked at Ryder, who simply nodded slightly. Her gaze fell onto me, and she eyed me up and down before raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Time for you to prove you're worth keeping alive." Ryder said as he stepped in front of me, his grey eyes burning through me with his deadly glare.

"Do I get a gun?" I said as I raised my eyebrow at him.

"After what you did to these men with your arms bound, you think I'll trust you with a gun?" He said in annoyance as a scowl came to his face.

"Lift your hands." He ordered at me while he reached into his back pocket. I quickly obeyed, ignoring the stares I was receiving from everyone in the room. Ryder's eyes were locked on mine as he brought out a knife from his pocket, and cut the ropes binding my wrist.

"Let's see what you got." Ryder said, his face remained emotionless as he twirled the knife in his hand so that the handle was facing me.

The European Mafia was known for being merciless, and I knew I had one chance to make a good first impression. Hobbs told me not to kill anyone, and I'm going to assume that he just meant not to kill civilians or innocent people. These are criminals, people who deserved to burn in hell for eternity for the things that they have done.

I took a deep breath, channeling my inner psychopath and releasing the demons that I've kept buried in the abyss of my soul for years. I released all of the pent up anger, frustration, rage, hatred, and anguish that I've kept hidden from the world. I felt the familiar numbness take over me, as I grabbed the knife from Ryders hand, and slowly looked up at him with a wicked smile stretched across my face.