**GHOST POV**

Fucking hell. Can't a woman just come home after a massacre and just relax? Why did this attractive man have to be here, and why did he have to be shirtless at that?

The location of the warehouse Fox sent me had 20 armed men, ready and waiting to make their move on us. It took a bit longer than expected, but I executed all of them. I wasn't hurt, just exhausted after a long day. The rigorous workout I did before the massacre left me physically and mentally drained.

When I stumbled inside, I knew Damon was in the kitchen. His masculine scent was one that I couldn't miss, but due to my utter exhaustion, I opted to just make it to the chair instead of engaging in conversation with him. I thought he would just leave, but to my surprise, he was now staring at me, completely unfazed and relaxed at my knife was aimed at his heart.

His constant composure made me uneasy. Ever since I've met this man, he has always remained even keel. When he was in the basement, he was calm, collected, and even asked for a damn cigarette. A request which I foolishly obliged. He was skillful in negotiation, and acted completely calm even when I could have easily killed him... a reaction that someone who just got kidnapped forcefully would not have. It made me wonder what was really going on through that mind of his.

His piercing blue eyes were locked on mine as he stood over me. Damon was wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. His low cut V was prominent, and his chiseled six pack abs appeared even more defined as the dim lights highlighted his muscles. I may not feel emotions as strongly, but my body still biologically responds to arousal, and the sight of him in front of me made my heart flutter slightly and a heat spread through my body.

"You going to put that away or what?" Damon said with boredom in his voice as he raised his eyebrow and looked down at the blade slightly touching his inked bare chest.

I looked at him for a moment before I lowered my blade and put it back in its holster. I leaned back in the chair and turned my attention to the window, getting lost in the city lights as I placed my feet back on the ottoman.

"Looks like someone had fun tonight." He smirked as he sat down next to me, kicking his feet up next to mine on the other side of the ottoman. He stretched his arms up, and placed them behind his head as he looked down at the city below us.

"Something like that." I breathed before I took a drag of my cigarette that was still burning in my other hand.

"Can't sleep?" I asked curiously as we continued to look ahead of us.

"I'm an insomniac." He said nonchalantly as I saw him shrug in the corner of my eye.

"Looks like we have something in common, Mr. Carbone." I said as I turned my head to look at him.

"May I?" He said as he pointed to the cigarette in my mouth. I placed it between my fingers and held it out to him. His large and calloused hands grazed mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I looked at the intricate designed lining his arms, and my eyes fell upon the tally marks that lined his inner arm, going from his wrists all the way up, covering the entire space.

"Tallies? Interesting choice of tattoo." I said as I raised my eyebrow and Damon took the cigarette in his hands.

"They represent all of my kills." He said casually as he took a long drag of the cigarette.

"How many?" I asked as I raised my eyebrow.

"1,734." He said almost immediately.

"Impressive." I said as I smirked.

"That's usually not the response I get when I tell a woman I've slaughtered almost 2,000 people." He chuckled as he looked over at me with a smirk.

"If that's your go-to pickup line, I'd highly recommend you try another one." I laughed.

I'm usually the only one awake during the early hours of the day, and having someone here to talk to felt... somewhat nice. It was a pleasant change from the loneliness I've become accustomed to.

"That bad?" He laughed as he handed me my cigarette back while I chuckled and shook my head.

"Absolutely horrid." I smirked before I took a drag on my cigarette.

"So how did a woman as beautiful as you end up in the world of crime?" He said as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Beautiful usually isn't the reaction I get from a man when I'm drenched in blood." I said as I raised an eyebrow right back at him.

"It suits you. Really brings out your eyes." He said playfully, causing me to chuckle at our twisted and fucked up conversation. Only two cold blooded murders can talk so casually about killing and find it amusing.

"I'm starting to think you're slightly deranged, Mr. Carbone." I said as I looked at him curiously.

"And why is that?" He said as he smirked.

"I've had three opportunities to kill you, yet here you are sitting next to me completely unafraid." I said before I took a drag of my cigarette.

"I knew you weren't going to kill me." He said calmly as he looked at me.

"What makes you so sure about that?" I asked curiously.

"Multiple reasons." He said before holding his hand out for the cigarette. I reached over and handed it to him, leaning forward so we were about a foot away from each other's faces.

"You had every opportunity to run once you knew we were tracking you, but instead, you intentionally baited us and looked straight at the street camera knowing that we were watching. I knew that Rebel was there to relay information about where you were because as soon as she saw your picture, her body language changed. I knew you were waiting for us in the back alley, but I went out there anyways." He said calmly as his fingers traced my wrist and worked its way down to my fingertips, our eyes locked the entire time.

"How did you know I wouldn't kill you in the alleyway?" I asked as I furrowed my eyebrows, listening intently to his words.

"You only kill when necessary. If you were a mindless murderer, you would have killed those three men in the alleyway a few months ago when they first said something to you. Instead, you ignored them, and attacked once they provoked you." He explained as his fingers grabbed onto the cigarette. I tried to hide my surprise at his accurate assumptions, I never killed unless I absolutely had to.

"As you saw earlier, I could have easily blocked your attack in the alleyway, but once I saw Angelo and Gio unconscious instead of dead, I knew you had no intention of killing us. If you did, you would have snapped their necks instead of knocked them out. So I took the punch, and let you take us in for what I assumed would be questioning." He said as he smirked and took a hit of the cigarette, still looking me in the eye and not moving from his position.

"When I saw you only had three colleagues with you, I assumed you three worked alone in whatever illegal activities you do, so I knew you'd jump at the opportunity to have an entire Mafia army at your disposal. At first, I thought you were all assassins, but judging by the private jet, high tech equipment, and luxurious penthouse you four have, I'm assuming it probably has to do more so with robberies, which, coincidently have been happening over the past year, no?" He said as my eyebrows furrowed and he smiled smugly.

"I may not be the most tactical, or strategical, but I'm very skilled at reading people, and you are no exception my dear. I know with certainty that you're not going to kill me, because if you wanted me dead, you would have already done it in those three chances you had." He said confidently as he raised and eyebrow at me.

I couldn't help but feel uneasy at the fact that he could read me like a damn open book, and that I did everything that he assumed I would. He gathered all of his accurate judgments on me just by watching a surveillance video, and examining his surroundings. Acting oblivious and aloof when the entire time he knew exactly what he was doing.

Part of me wanted to slice his throat, while the other part of me was wildly impressed.

"There's more to you than what meets the eye, isn't there Mr. Carbone." I said as I looked at him and raised my eyebrow.

He simply smiled widely, before he brought the cigarette to his mouth and took a long drag of it as his eyes never left mine. He exhaled slowly, filling the space between us with smoke.

"You have no idea, love." He said after exhaled and put the cigarette out on the glass ashtray that was sitting on top of the table in between us.