HIS DANGEROUS AGENDA

WARNING: This story contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, and sensitive topics unsuitable for young readers. Reader discretion is advised.

THIRD PERSON'S POINT OF VIEW

"D-death... H-ha-ahh!" The woman's moans, a discordant symphony of pain and pleasure, filled the soundproofed suite. The luxury of the five-star hotel offered no solace, only a stark contrast to the raw brutality unfolding within. For Psyke Sergevev Romanov, known as Death, the sounds were an irritant, a distraction from the calculated control he exerted.

He continued, his movements precise and brutal, his grip tightening on her hair. She cried out, a mixture of pain and something else, a desperate plea that he ignored. He saw only her back, her hair a dark cascade against the pristine white sheets, her face hidden, her voice the only confirmation of her response.

"O–oh! P-please, h–harder-haughmp!" The urgency in her voice only fueled his detachment. He pressed his hand against her head, forcing her face into the pillow, silencing the high-pitched sounds that grated on his nerves. He controlled her movements, her body a mere instrument to his will.

Her body trembled, tightening around him, the physical response a stark contrast to the emotional distance he maintained. Just as he was about to increase his pace, the insistent ringing of his phone shattered the silence, a jarring intrusion into his calculated control.

He slowed, momentarily releasing her hair, reaching for the phone on the side table. He answered without checking the caller ID, his movements continuing, the woman's moans intensifying.

["I see... you found a new toy again."] The voice on the other end was laced with amusement.

"Prekrati der'mo–augh." ("Cut the crap–augh.") He growled, his thrusts deepening, his climax approaching.

["Father wants us to go home later. The private plane will arrive at exactly 10 pm. So hurry up."] The instruction was blunt, devoid of emotion.

He tossed the phone aside, his grip shifting to her neck, his other hand still controlling her hips. He pushed himself to the limit, the woman's moans rising to a crescendo. They reached their peak simultaneously, a brutal collision of bodies, a stark contrast to the emotional chasm between them. He released himself outside her, a deliberate act of control, a rejection of connection.

She collapsed, spent and disoriented, while he rose, already moving towards the bathroom, his movements as cold and efficient as a surgeon's. The encounter was over. The next phase was about to begin.

-

"Here." Death said, tossing a bundle of dollars onto the bed.

The woman smiled at the sight. Still naked, only a sheet covering her body, marked by Death's actions, she watched him adjust his necktie before putting on his black coat, which accentuated his blue eyes and blonde hair.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" she asked, watching him as he reached for his phone and made a call.

Death didn't answer, instead, he picked up his phone and called someone.

"Sebastian." he began as the call connected.

["Get down, I'm already here."] the man on the other line said.

Death ended the call and walked out of the room, not bothering to say goodbye to the woman he had just slept with. He stepped into the elevator and quickly descended to the first floor of the building.

He saw the jet black Ferrari parked in front of the hotel entrance. Sebastian, wearing sunglasses and an all-black suit like Death, was leaning against the hood.

"Boss." he greeted as Death approached.

Death shook his head and opened the passenger door. "Stop it Seb, you're my brother." he said before getting in.

Sebastian chuckled and went to the driver's seat. "It's fun you know? It looks like we're different people. It's funny how we used to deceive some of them."

"Yeah, you're right. Oh-what does that old man want now?" Death asked Sebastian, who had started driving. They were heading to the airport, as it was already 10 pm and the private plane they were taking back to Russia was sure to have arrived.

"There's an Underground Auction tomorrow, hosted by our family's lovely best friend-the Bognadov." he began.

Death's brow furrowed at his brother's words. "And what does that have to do with us?"

Sebastian's lips curled into a smile at his brother's question. "Our intel said they have lots of new weapons, and that's what the old man wanted-also, I'm sure you'll going to like their rare item for this year."

"Whatever." was all Death could manage before deciding to take a nap during the drive.

He wondered what rare item Sebastian was talking about. But if Sebastian said he would like it, he was sure he would, especially since Sebastian knew him so well.

But what could it possibly be?

-

"Damn this crowded place. Gutom na 'ko."

Death's attention was drawn to Sebastian when he heard him speak Tagalog. He rarely spoke Tagalog, so Death was always surprised when he heard him use their mother's language.

They were currently walking into the Underground Auction venue, which was scheduled to begin in five minutes. They went straight to the venue upon arriving in Russia, as the bidding and auction were scheduled for early morning.

The Underground Auction was an illegal activity, especially in Russia. But even so, it couldn't be stopped, especially since one of the biggest Mafia families in Russia owned and operated it. It was usually attended by wealthy individuals from all over the world, and it only happened once a year, making it impossible to stop.

They sat in a seat at the top. They preferred not to attract too much attention, so they remained silent during the bidding for the first few items.