AN: Hi, I am glad you have chosen to read my new story, I hope that over the course of the story you will enjoy every second of it and to those of you who have read my previous stories, I thank you for moving on to read this one and for supporting me as an author. Many thanks. xx

Rex's POV

I stand outside, my eyes taking in the dull surroundings around me as I suck down the nicotine from my cigarette. The wind was rough, cold and brisk, it showed no mercy as it tried to battle the cancer stick from my hand, but I wasn't quite ready for it to be pried away. Smoking was my only way of relaxing, I didn't have time to faff around with all the ridiculous little things doctors suggested you do. I found most of the suggestions laughable. Some people have described me as being a large man who stands proud at a whopping six foot two inches; I'm covered in muscles as my job requires me to keep fit and pumped. I need to be strong and menacing in appearance in order to do what I do best. You see, I'm a powerful killer, a hitman to put a name to it, and my job description includes specific things I have to do. If I can't strike fear with a single glance, then I'm not fit for the job. Simple as.

So building up the muscles has only helped to emphasise how frightening I am. But despite my terrifying appearance, I have been described as having soft light blue eyes that are almost grey – I detest them, so I will usually wear green contacts as and when I can – and to top it all off I have dirty blonde hair. To the side of my face I have a scar that travels from my temple down and around my eye where it stops just under my eye on my cheek bone. I still remember the day I gained that scar, it was the day I became a man. A true man. My father had been training me to be the best hitman I could be since I was sixteen years old, on my eighteenth birthday my father took me to a celebration ceremony where I was named as being part of the official hitman society.

But in order to be labelled as a hitman, you had to be sliced with the ceremonial knife; I got to choose where I wished to be cut. I chose that specific spot to be sliced because my grandfather, who had taken part in many wars, had a scar there. I had always wanted to be like my grandfather and I had worshipped my grandfather since the day I was born. My grandfather was a brave soldier and a secret assassinator on the side; he was all the inspiration that I could have ever asked for. It devastated me when he passed away a year ago, but in the end it only caused me to feel more encouraged to be the best I could be at my job.

At twenty-six I was already a pretty great killing machine, I had kidnapped one hundred and one people and murdered one hundred and sixty eight people all together. That was an average of about twenty-one kills every year since I started this profession, which was around the ripe age of eighteen. I must admit I'm very proud of my record. I shake my head to rid myself of such useless thoughts as I toss my fag to the floor, my foot treading on it where I grind it into the floor. That cigarette was the last one in my packet, in the packet that my father left me. My father died a couple of months back and all he left me was a few packets of fags, but not just any ordinary fags, the expensive kind. I enjoyed smoking every last one of them. I grab the empty packet from my pocket where I scrunch it up before casually throwing it on the floor.

"Goodbye, dad," I mutter to myself before turning on my heel and heading back inside, I was supposed to be collecting a new mission profile right now, but I thought I would take my sweet ass time. I deserved it. I had only just finished assassinating someone late last night, and it was very rare for me to be lumbered with two missions one after another like this. I can't quite understand why they are giving me a new one so close after my last one. I kind of wondered why the society did not just pass the mission onto another hitman, onto one who has not been up all night and only had three hours' worth of sleep in the last 50 hours. I groan at the thought as I rub my tired face. I can only imagine how I must look, but I genuinely could not care anymore. I was on this earth to do one thing, and one thing only, and that was to eliminate people for money.

"Hey, Rex, how are things?" Suzy, the receptionist of my boss' building, greets me with a sweet smile. Suzy is a great girl; she has bright blue eyes, soft black waves of hair and the best personality you could find. The sad thing was was that she was as thick as shit. However, despite her being so stupid, she was a great fuck. I never had time to go out and find a girl, you know, find a girlfriend and settle down; I couldn't risk it with my position and profession, so I settle for just having random flings and one night stands. I'm a man, after all, I need to let loose and have fun once in a while. Well, more than once in a while if my track record is anything to go by on…

"Splendid as per usual." I roll my eyes as I saunter passed the reception desk, I always make my life to look great to those who ask, but in actual fact my life was a complete wreck. I never really had the time to socialise, nor could I ever have a relationship because of my profession. I couldn't risk roping a woman into my bidding; she would be put in danger. That reason alone stands by as to why I didn't have a family, I just couldn't risk it. I waltz towards the large, dark, heavy wooden door that would lead me into my boss' office. On the door there is a golden plaque that has Wayne Rogers wrote on it. I knock on the door once before twisting the door knob and pushing the heavy wooden door open where I step inside, allowing the door to slam shut behind me. I stare at my boss who is flicking through a brown file, probably that of my new target. Just from the brief glimpse I got, I could see that it was a thick file, filled with plenty of info, which, in my opinion, would most likely be useless.

The only thing I really needed to know was their name, their age, their address and their daily schedule. Sometimes all I ever really needed was a picture and I would be able to find the rest out myself. I was tactical like that; I never relied on anyone and never wanted to. People could not be trusted in my eyes, I had received plenty of deceit from those I was meant to trust, I had been neglected by those that were meant to look out for me; now I care for no one. Trust is no longer applicable in my books; the word does not even truly exist in my world anymore.

"Rexy, good to see ya ma lad," My boss nods to the chair across from him, I nod once while sitting down, but other than that I show no other response. "Want some brandy?" Wayne probes me, but does not wait for my answer as he reaches over and grabs the vintage brandy and two small shot glasses that he fills to the brim. He drains one, leaving the other for me, but all I do is stare at it, unsure of whether to accept it or not.

My boss has always been fairly friendly with me, but he has never offered his favoured brandy to anyone, not even his own wife. He was very possessive of his alcohol, so it makes me wonder why he is so eager to share it now.

"Right, well, I got ya next case. Pretty intense one this one, she's twenty-three, gorgeous, married to a rich man and is very successful," Wayne tosses the large file to me where I snatch it up, opening it where I skim through the pages of information.

"Who put the hit out on her?" I raise my eyes to my boss.

"Believe it or not, but her own husband,"

"Why?" I am genuinely confused as to why any man would want her dead, from what I can see from the photos she is drop dead gorgeous, tall, healthy looking – you know, not too large, but not too thin either, just perfect in my eyes – and she has large breasts, hour glass figure; she is successful in what she does, which is organising events for any and every occasion. She is favoured by many, she volunteers at charity events, she has organised many and has raised millions of pounds over the years.

"William, her husband, is having a lil affair; he finds his tastes are drifting towards his mistress than that of this young lady,"

"Why doesn't he just divorce her?"

"Too easy. He has this big campaign running at the moment, he wants to be elected for something of the other, so he thought if she got killed around the time of the voting period, he would receive sympathy votes. Then a couple months after her death, he could openly come out with his relationship with this other lass,"

"Good for nothing low life then," I mutter. I don't understand why men like this are allowed to wander the earth, fair enough, I am not exactly respectful of women, but I wouldn't want this one dead. She would be a valuable asset to have.

"Yeah, well, that good for nothin' low life is paying your wages,"

"It better be a good pay check then,"

"Sixty thousand pounds sound good to you?" That causes my eyebrows to shoot into my hairline. I have never received such a large sum of money for such an easy kill before.

"Sounds great if you're not pulling my leg,"

"I aint pulling no one's leg. I managed to scrounge one hundred thousand off of him, but seeing as I get a forty percent cut of whatever we bargain out of them, I get the other forty. Plus he is paying for any extra expenses we will need,"

"Why are we charging such a large sum for? And what extra expenses?"

"He had specific instructions he wanted us to follow, which is where the expenses come in, and with all the effort goin' in, we need a little more in return. Plus he was a gullible fool,"

"Specific instructions?" I repeat, trying to hint at him to reveal these instructions.

"It's attached to the file, look at the back," I flip the file over, my eyes landing on the very detailed plan that has been written out in scrawled hand writing, it is very difficult to read. But from what I can make out, this guy wants his wife kidnapped first, he wants a forged ransom sent to him so that he can get the police involved and have it published nationally, and he wants me to keep her hostage for two months, which would bring us up to the voting period, then he wants her killed and her body dumped somewhere where she would be located easily. This fucking guy is off his head, and the only reason he wants all this shit doing is so that he can write a book based on this 'horrific' event in his life. The one which he has organised.

"When do I get paid?"

"When the deed is done, he says,"

"Tell him I need a little deposit first, say twenty thousand?"

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Wayne grins at me, I grin back, leaning back in my chair while staring at the picture of the woman before me. This is going to be a piece of cake, and I'm going to make a fortune out of it. Little Miss Evanna Evans needs to watch out, because a shit storm is about to hit.

Evanna's POV

"So close, so close, so close," William pants as he thrusts harder into me, making me bite my lip uncomfortably, he is genuinely hurting me. Love making – if you can even call it that – with William has never been pleasant, it's never been great and I've never actually managed to orgasm. Not once. I have never orgasmed with him; I don't think I have ever orgasmed at all actually. William was my first and my only sex partner, and I have never tried to pleasure myself. I guess I have just never felt comfortable with it. I don't feel confident in myself, William doesn't exactly help, he's always telling me I need to lose weight, or I need to wear more makeup or wear nicer clothes; he makes me feel horrible about myself, so I guess that just really knocks my confidence so the thought of pleasuring myself makes me think he'll be secretly judging me, even if he isn't aware of the fact I did it. I try my hardest to hold back my sigh as he finally comes inside of me, pulling out quickly where he climbs off of the bed and grabs a pillow that he sits under my pelvis.

He keeps saying it's to help his sperm reach my egg.

"You stay there, I'm going to go get ready for my meeting," With that he walks into the bathroom, leaving me to finally release my held in sigh. William and I got married when I was nineteen, so about four years ago. When we married I was completely and utterly in love with him, I would have done anything and everything for him, and he would have done the same for me, but this last year…well, things haven't exactly been perfect. Or loving for that matter. Like I have said before he's been knocking my confidence, making me feel terrible about myself, he's been pushing me around and now he has demanded that we have a baby. He says it will look good on him to announce that he's going to be a father; he says it will help him get extra votes. I know I should leave him, I want to leave him, but I'm so scared of him. I tried to leave him about six months ago, but he got very aggressive and he threatened me, he warned me that if I left him he would tell the world I was a lying, cheating, whore who hit him. He was going to make the world believe I was a monster when I'm not. I couldn't hurt a fly.

But not only that, he resorted to hitting me. It was only that once, but he beat me that badly I was in hospital, he claimed I fell down the stairs and I agreed through the pure fear he might do it again. It only took him to hurt me once to make me scared of him. I don't trust him. Not anymore. I'm frightened, I want to run away and hide away, get away from him, but I'm too scared to because I know what he is capable of.

"Evanna!" William yells out.

"Yes?" I ask as I finally sit up and climb out of bed. I have been laid there for his ten minute waiting period, and now it's time I got dressed and ready. I'm heading down to a charity event tonight, it's one for those children who have been diagnosed with a terminal illness, I'm going there to put a smile on their face and support them. I have been supporting that charity for two years now.

"We've been trying for a child for many months now, and yet nothing has happened. There are no signs of you becoming pregnant at all. I have booked you an appointment at the hospital, they shall check you over. I believe something may be wrong with you," He accuses matter of factly, I nod, not wanting to argue that it might actually be that there is something wrong with him not me.

"Of course. When is it for?" I probe lightly while flicking through the few dresses I own, trying to find my best one. I don't want to turn up looking too smart, but I don't want to look casual either.

"Your appointment is at five," I stare at him them, fury burning inside of me.

"You know I'm going to that charity event at five,"

"Then I guess you will just have to cancel, won't you?" He snaps at me harshly, I try my hardest to hold my temper as I nod meekly. It genuinely upsets me how pathetic I am, I'm letting him treat me like dirt, I shouldn't let him do this to me, he has turned me into something I never wanted to be.

"The car will arrive to take you at four thirty, you will go to the hospital and if you do not turn up to the appointment then there will be hell to pay," He warns me, I nod again, remaining silent, not wanting to aggravate him further. I hear his heavy footsteps come up beside me, my nerves shaking slightly as he grips my arm tightly, turning me around to face him. His green eyes skim over me. I take my chance to take him in then, something which I have not done for a very long time. He is of a strong build, but not a body builder kind of build, more of a sturdy kind of build. He does have some muscles on his arms, but not loads, he has a barely there six pack which he claims to be working on, he is about six foot tall and today he has opted for gelling his short black hair to the side, making him look completely ridiculous. He has gotten dressed into his best black suit with a crisp white shirt, which he is yet to fasten up, and a dark blue tie that is hanging around his neck loosely. Even I have to admit that he looks good for his age. He's twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine, and he still looks like he is twenty-three.

He brings his other hand forward where he cups my cheek, I smile at him half-heartedly.

"Everything will be okay, Evanna, I promise. I will care for you," He assures me before leaning forward and kissing me softly, something which he has not done for many months. I smile at him again, but not a real smile, as he turns his back and grabs his watch from my vanity table.

"I will be going to this meeting and then I will be travelling to London where I will be staying there over night. It will all to go towards my campaigning," He assures me while clasping his watch around his wrist. I nod. He often travels to London or Manchester, or somewhere else to campaign. Honestly, I'm just thankful to have some time on my own away from him. I wish I had the guts to pack my bags and leave while he was gone, but I knew he would try to track me down if I did, and once he found me…well…I worry that he will hurt me. Like he did all those months ago. I know I should just accept that it was a spur of the moment, that he didn't mean to hurt me, he apologises often to me about it, but that doesn't stop me fearing him. But I sometimes feel as though he enjoys seeing me helpless and scared of him.

I hate how weak he has made me. I have gone from that strong, independent woman I used to be when we met, to now being this frightened girl who feels as though she is nothing more than muck. I decide in that moment that I need to try and get back to who I used to be, I need to stand up to him, I need to pluck up the courage to finally leave him and expose him for who he is. I need to do this not only for my sanity, but for my safety and my health and wellbeing. I pick up a pair of my black skinny jeans, a pair of my black suede wedge ankle boots and a smart shirt. I look over at William where I can see him watching me, a small smile on his face. I cannot help but wonder why he is smiling. That smile just looks so out of place on his face, it makes him look sinister.

"I am sorry for everything I have put you through, when I hurt you, I hated myself. I felt ashamed of myself. I know I have not been the best husband, but I promise everything will get better once we have a baby. A baby will truly bring us together. I promise," He walks over to me again, kissing me deeply before he pulls back slowly, smiling a little more softly this time before he whispers goodbye and leaves.

He has not talked so kindly and softly to me like that for a couple of years now, he hasn't been like that with me for a very long time. I feel tears building up in my eyes. He has somehow managed to indirectly make me feel guilty over the fact that I no longer love him. Did I ever actually love him? Or was it all just in my head because I was a young woman who had met what she thought to be the perfect man? I shake my head, deciding that dwelling on those thoughts will do me no good. I have set myself a target and I will do it, I will not let him control me anymore. I quickly get dressed before I sit at my vanity where I brush through my thick wavy brown hair, my sky blue eyes looking around at my make-up where I try to decide which colours I should wear. I eventually settle for a light neutral pink coloured lipstick, with light mascara and neutral cream and purple blended eye shadow. I slide on my heels, my eyes looking towards the clock where I can see that it is almost time for me to be picked up. I take a deep breath before getting up and heading downstairs where I walk into the kitchen and grab some pain killers. I have been experiencing pain in my pelvis and lower back, but I get the feeling that is because William isn't exactly gentle with me during intercourse. It might explain why he causes me so much pain when we do attempt intercourse. I sigh, placing the now empty glass into the sink before I grab my coat and head outside to the car that is parked there waiting for me.