Crave The Enemy

ALEKSANDER

There are worse jobs than picking someone up from the airport. Not many, but yeah, I'd rather watch paint dry than pick him up from the airport.

I can't wait to get this over with.

My job is simple, pick him up, watch him, kill him when necessary. He's disposable .

I don't know why I was assigned to do this. I also don't know why I agreed. I could have sent any other person. Could it be curiosity.

No, I can't be curious to see him fly in from Italy.

I've heard enough about him from my siblings to sketch a mental picture of him. Arrogant, reckless, a trouble maker who wears his smile like an armour and his ego like a crown.

I hate him already.

Still, there is a difference between knowing about someone and watching them step into your world.

The terminal smells like burnt coffee and impatience. I lean against the railings, sunglasses hiding my eyes even though we're indoors.

Everyone here is holding flowers, balloons, big 'welcome home' signs.

I've got none of those, just a simmering headache and his name written in my mental burn book.

I've never met him in person. And frankly, I don't want to.

I take another sip of coffee, bitter, just the way I like it.

The intercom announces his flights arrival and my gaze cuts towards the gate just as the passengers spill out. Business men, tourists, women dragging their toddlers.

And then I see him.

He walks like the floor belongs to him, like he whole damn airport does.

Black leather jacket, sleeves pushed up, sunglasses still on inside. A duffel bag slung over his shoulder, not because it's heavy but because it looks good there. His hair is messy, but the kind of messy that's too perfect to be accidental.

Tall, broad shoulders and the smirk I've heard so many tales of.

Domenico fucking Vescari.

I could kill him. Not right now but the thought dances across my mind.

When his gaze locks on me, his mouth curves into a smirk that says he already knows who I am. Perfect.

He doesn't hurry. In fact I think he walks slowly on purpose just to be irritating.

"Ah" He says when he's finally close enough. "You must be my welcoming committee"

I stare at him "Aleksander"

"Nope, I did my assignment, it's Sasha, didn't know I had to tell you your own name"

I grit my teeth. He doesn't get to call me that.

"It's Aleksander to you"

"Of course you are" he says, grinning like he just met his favorite person.

"I'm Nico, you can start being impressed now"

I turn and walk towards the exit "Get in the car"

I hear him chuckle behind me " Are you always this charming?"

I don't reply him.

"I like you already. I was told you'd be one with a scowl. Nice touch. It really brings out your eyes"

I close my eyes and take a deep breath so I don't end up murdering him here.

He's just trying to get on my last nerve.

He yaps on about the 'boring' flight and the champagne.

In the car, he throws himself on the passenger seat like it's a throne.

"You drive" he asks, eyebrow raised. "Dangerous"

"For you or for me" I start the engine.