Unapologize
By: PricklySare
A/N: Again, thank M. I had a great time working this chapter out with you. :)
I hope you guys will enjoy hating this person as much as I enjoyed writing her. There will be more of her in the story. LOL. Let me know what you think. The next chapter is already with my Beta.
Sorry again if I've missed responding to any of the comments you guys have left. They've started piling up and I'm not sure if I got everyone! Regardless I love you all, and I appreciate you taking the time to read and respond.
--Sare
Chapter Twelve: The Handler's POV
When I first joined this particular, unknown division of the government as a handler I knew I was the best in my field. I still am. Because of this particular trait, I only accept the best into my bed and I always get who and what I want. I refuse to be second best, and in this line of work I've done whatever I needed to do to insure that.
Ricardo Carlos Manoso, or as his dossier refers to him—Nychta, the Greek word for Night; is and always has been the best; and when I wanted him in my bed he was the best there too. I've been his handler now for several years, have been responsible for his very livelihood, and if it weren't for me he would've died in some remote location. I couldn't let that happen. He was strong, virile, and rich. He was a man who just dripped sex appeal, and the very lack of concern he had for anything except his job is exactly what drew me to him. I knew that harnessing that raw power would be like riding lightning. Thrilling, exhilarating, and potentially deadly.
Now, I was reconsidering his life expectancy. Nychta had been lax in his control recently. I'd heard stories, about some nothing of a girl he'd been spending his time with. Some girl who was nothing more than a common, boring, untrained, baby factory. There was nothing special about her, aside from her penchant for blowing up vehicles, and yet...he seemed to be enamored with her.
I've never considered myself a stupid woman, and neither has anyone else—at least not to my knowledge, if they had, their life expectancy would have been greatly diminished; so I knew there were other women who entertained him in bed when he was not in mine, but recently there had been a change in him. A change that didn't sit well with me, and was something I wasn't willing to work with. She wasn't just a bed mate. She was something else entirely, and that just wouldn't do.
Before I left Nychta in the briefing room I'd left him my key card, with an obvious invitation. He was a smart, suave, businessman who had shared my bed more than once, so I knew he understood. Yet, he wasn't here. I wasn't screaming his name as he pounded into me. Oh, I was about to scream his name alright, but it wasn't in pleasure. I was nowhere near pleased. I blamed her.
The clock beside my bed tormented me as the red digital numbers slowly changed. I'd been sitting, waiting for him to come to me for two hours, and I knew he wasn't coming. I could feel the rage building inside of me and I wasn't going to let it out. Nothing ever was gained by showing an outward manifestation of my inner feelings. Power and control were hard won by skill, plotting, and a lack of compassion for anyone except myself. I knew how the game was played. I'd been playing it for years and I was good. Damn good.
Nychta wanted to turn me down, wanted to ignore me when I had plainly chosen him? He wanted to ignore my invitation, my summons and spend his last hours alone in his sterile room...fine. That would be a choice he'd live to regret; or perhaps I should say, wouldn't live to regret. I held all the power and wasn't above using it. When he climbed aboard the helo in an hour, it would be the last time he set foot on this country's soil. I'd make sure of that. It's a shame I couldn't make the same guarantee about her. I'd just have to figure out another way to rid myself of that little problem. It's a shame Nychta wouldn't be around to see it. He might be the best, but I will always be better.