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The Assassin's Allure

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Blurb

Asher, aka "Dragon" Cage, has always been disciplined. Many of his Confradia Assassin brethren feel that he's an unfeeling psycho and give him a wide berth. His reputation doesn't bother him until the day he opens a storage crate after a rescue and sees her.

All Ivy Montenegro wants to do is leave her horrific past behind and succeed as a realtor. Ivy minds her own business until some psycho kidnaps her and tries to sell her into s*x slavery.

Regrettably, though she was rescued, somehow she lost her heart to the gorgeously brooding Assassin who rescued her. Fortunately, life continues, and she manages to get her life on track.

Unfortunately, nothing is ever easy. Ivy and Asher circle each other for years, but some unforeseen things get in the way- like his engagement.

After losing the possibility of happiness with Ivy due to an arranged marriage, Asher pretends he didn't lose his heart. That is until his boss asks him to move to New York, and he's faced with a choice.

Though they try to stay away, Ivy and Asher are drawn to each other. The heat of their encounters leaves them wanting and aching.

When the past comes back to haunt Ivy, she will seek the help of the man who broke her heart.

Seeing that he can't lose Ivy, Asher will do everything to keep his family from uncertain ruin, keep Ivy safe and maybe rediscover the love he thought he lost.

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Chapter 1: Divided
Asher The children run around the playground, and the parents carry on conversations, completely unaware of the predator in their midst. But I’m aware, and I’m ready to make sure he never hurts a child again.             Dan Walters is a wealthy man with a deviant taste for children. He’s a s****l predator with a harmless exterior that he uses to fly under the radar. Too bad for him that he picked the wrong child to prey on. Two months ago, Don visited one of the lovely beaches in the Hamptons and decided to pick up a child playing in the sand.             Unfortunately for him, he chose the nine-year-old son of a well-known politician. He paid off the authorities using his money and managed to wheedle his way out of jail, but the prominent congressman’s wife urged him to have Don investigated anyway.             Thankfully, the congressman knew the right people, and Walter’s case made it to the top of the Confradia’s assassin list.             I watch Walters stop at a playground near Spanish Harlem, where he knows he can prey on children from impoverished communities without repercussion.             Walters is not the first pedophile that I’ve assassinated, and sadly he won’t be the last.             For an hour, Walters walks the park’s perimeter, using a puppy he picked up at a nearby shelter as bait. In his nondescript clothes, the forty-nine-year-old male blends in very well. He’s a small man with a slight frame, short mousy hair and friendly brown eyes. If asked, no one would describe this man other than to say he looked like an average man.             I maintain my distance by sitting in a diner across from the park, but all of my senses are centered on him.             As soon as he rises from the bench and follows a woman with three children, I follow him. The woman’s children are the perfect targets because her eyes are glued to her cell phone rather than her rambunctious children, who seem to be falling behind. The children are young. I would say between five and seven years old. Old enough to distract and snatch without issue.             Walters follows them for a couple of blocks until the crowd thins. It’s only when he takes a shortcut through an alley so he can get ahead of the children that I make my move. As soon as he reaches the middle of the alley, I slink behind him, grip him by the neck, and drag him to a dark corner between two rubbish bins. His eyes widen with fear, which I will admit gives me a perverse pleasure. I imagine that his victims look at him the same way, so I take joy in the irony of the whole situation. This time he’s the prey and will get a glimpse of the fear he instills in the children he terrorizes.             I’ve been a Confradia Assassin for nearly a decade.             Before that, I joined the military and taught martial arts. I taught Aikido, Kickboxing, Judo, and many other arts and weapons handling. Before my parents died, they worked for the Japanese Legion. My mother was a Japanese barrister at the American embassy, and my father was the Navy seal in charge of protecting her. They were married for fifteen years, and I was eight years old when an insurgent terrorist group highjacked their plane and killed everyone inside. When it happened, I was with my mother’s brother, Haruto, and his wife, Himari. As soon as word of my parent’s passing reached my uncle and his wife, they filed for adoption and kept me.             I lived in Japan with my aunt and uncle until I was twelve years old. Then we moved to London until I turned eighteen. My full name is Asher Ryusei Cage. I remember my mother telling me that she and my father argued over what to call me, so they chose an American first name and a traditional Japanese name for my middle name. Because of my mixed heritage, my family tried to raise me to respect both cultures. I speak Chinese, Korean, Spanish, English, Mandarin, and several other regional languages, which have been useful in my career.             Even though my mother’s last will required that I be educated in both my American and Japanese culture, I was mostly educated in Japan until we moved to England. Because of that, my social mannerisms veer more toward my Japanese heritage. For example, showing too much emotion in my culture is considered taboo, which wouldn’t have been a problem if most of my American Assassin brethren didn’t think I was a cold psychotic bastard.             A couple of years ago, most of them, including Micah St. Clair, refused to work with me. He was very upfront about his feelings the first time we worked together. If I recall correctly, he told me that my vacant expression and the coldblooded way I ended my targets made him uncomfortable.             Of course, he and the other New York assassins warmed up to me after I helped rescue Micah’s love, Sophia. However, many of my fellow Assassins still give me a wide berth.             That’s also when I met Ivy, and my life became complicated. Thinking about her name makes a sharp pain of regret pierce through my chest, but I quickly push it aside.             As I gaze down at Walters, I wrap my forearm around his neck and snap it. He doesn’t even have time to resist. Priest asked me to keep it a clean kill, so I didn’t cut him up with my Katana like I wanted to.             As soon as his body falls into a deathly slump, I open the rubbish bin and toss his lifeless body inside.             Once I’m done, I head back to Priest’s garage. Mission accomplished. Until the next time, that is.             

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