I leaned my head back against my seat. Hand gripping the steering wheel. I most probably should turn back around and head home.

I just completed an assignment tonight. Another contract. Another kill.

But I wanted to see my little Flame. My beautiful Celine.

I was tired. Exhausted. Emotionally drained.

The best solution would be to go home and sleep it off.

The next day I would wake up and it would be the same. I would kill again. Not to mention, I had a Killer on the loose to catch.

Someone had hired me to catch the Silver Strangler. Having a sort of dark vendetta against the killer who killed his fiancé. Still, how the heck was I supposed to catch a mother fucking serial killer who covered his tracks perfectly well? No idea but of course I had to do it.

Or Dad would never stop lecturing me about the fact that it was my work. My duty to the family. My responsibility.

I was born into a wealthy prestigious family. One where My great grandfather, Vito Castillo had the fabulous idea of creating an assassin Guild around the early-to-mid 1900s - the golden age of organized crime.

Vito didn't just want a gang. He wanted an empire that could never be destroyed by rival families or the government. So he created the guild. Feared by everyone. Respected. Even infamous mafia dons from all over the world requested our assistance when they couldn't eliminate their targets.

To conceal the guild, Vito specialised in pharmaceuticals, perfect for the good old man to cover the creation of such an abomination, all the while gaining early access to untraceable poisons, toxins, and medical tech.

Great Grandfather back then had also realized standard mafia soldiers were often loud, easily bribed, or cracked under police interrogation. So he hand-picked the most loyal, lethal inner-circle members and created a secret society within the family. He treated assassination as a high art, teaching them stealth, psychology, and untraceable methods. As years went by, the children of the assassins were all trained the same way, girls or boys were all taught to take over their parent's line of work. Plus the pay was high. It was killing after all.

Vito even left behind a specific set of philosophies. A personal journal of sorts that every heir including me must read and live by. No Mistresses. And each heir should marry an assassin from the inner circle for family strength, interest and the guild's secret to be kept safely. The same thing went for all the other assassins. Marriage within the inner circle. No outsiders.

I didn't want to follow the rules. But I had to. Every generation had walked in Vito's footsteps. After great grandfather Vito, my grandfather Santiago took over, even bringing forth a franchise of luxurious hotels to further obscure the source of illicit money obtained through killing contracts. Hotels that handled massive volumes of cash and credit transactions daily, making it easy to blend illicit funds.

And my father Fernando in his turn took over the family's assassin Guild when the time came. He even modernized the infrastructure, introducing cyber security, encrypted communications, and global logistics.

I was therefore expected to do the same but father was still alive. And as long as he lived I could breathe a little bit easier without the full expense of the Castillo empire resting on my shoulders.

My mom, Adriana, was an assassin too, as expected considering my great grandfather Vito's strict rules of marrying within the inner circle but she never pressured me. No. Having experienced the same suffocating upbringing. She didn't want to burden me.

She said I could be me. I could be different. That I would do great things. She even broke the traditional naming in my family that ended with 'O' by naming me Eli. Compared to Vito, Santiago and Fernando. I was Eli Castillo.

Mom tried to give me a good childhood. Allowing me to pursue my passion for glass art but still father made sure I learned everything privately at home itself from him about the family legacy. He was my tutor. My mentor.

Refining his heir for his empire.

I had all the skills to run a global empire now that I was 33 because my father forced me to learn at a young age, taught me how to kill, where to stab, the right dosage of poison, the art of killing, the financing of the pharmaceutical companies and the hotels but really my heart was in glass art.

Mom knew that. But she also knew my fate - When my father dies, I won't just inherit a business. I will inherit a legacy of blood. One I never wanted anything to do with. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. I couldn't either.

So Glass art was my only source of escapism from all the mayhem and blood. But even that, my father made me use it to conceal further illicit funds.

I owned glass art galleries all over the world and using glass art as a front for assassination contracts' blood money was a jackpot for my father.

Art has no fixed value after all. A glass sculpture like the ones I made could be sold for millions based entirely on 'artistic merit.' This made it effortless to disguise a massive murder contract fee as a luxury art purchase.

The fact that even this, my father managed to taint made me resent him.

My only comfort and salvation was that to Celine, I was a glass sculptor. A glass artist. Nothing else.

To society I was a wealthy heir.

To the underworld, I was Eli Castillo. The next in line to inherit the guild.

But to her? I was Eli. Her El. Her Sol (Sun in Spanish)

Taking a deep breath, I finally got out of the car and walked up to her front door. Making use of my set of keys I had for her mansion, I opened the door and walked in, not one bit surprised by the sight of my little Flame asleep on the couch in the living room, a thriller playing on the TV.

Walking towards her quietly, I switched the TV off, and lifted her in my arms, bridal style.

She barely stirred. Instead her arms instinctively wrapped around my neck, seeking me. My warmth. As she always did, used to me visiting late. Carrying her. Being there for her.

I held her closer in response to her trust in me, carrying her upstairs but once I reached her room. I didn't place her on the bed. I settled against the headboard holding her close to me.

My forehead rested gently against her hair.

A kiss pressed there.

Tender.

Reverent.

Protective.

Basking in the warmth of her presence, I whispered into the darkness. "Sleep well, Little Flame."

A sleepy hum answered.

Barely conscious.

But there.

And as she settled even closer against me, perfectly content within the circle of my arms, I closed my eyes and kept watch over the night once more.

Just as I always would. She would always be my sanctuary even if she never finds out, my heart is hers. Forever.