036

note: you all have the right to kick my ass ok I'm so sorry.

And ik a lot of you guys like to skim the story, but please read it all. There are major details in this chapter.

9:34AM

I woke to the sound of a click, a click that belonged to a gun. Followed by some shuffling, footsteps, and a slight cough.

My body sat up as I rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes. Harry stood by the dresser, setting his weapons up and finishing getting dressed. I saw his back muscles and arms flex every now and then with his movements.

"Hey," I rasped out tiredly, gaining his attention.

He turned around just as he placed his gun in his back pocket. I watched him as he took a the few steps to my tired figure.

I felt my lips part as he grabbed my chin, pale green eyes burning into mine so early in the day.

"I'm leaving right now. Remember what I said? Don't put yourself in danger," he warned sternly, yet quietly as he leaned down and kissed my lips.

His sudden affection was one that I was not complaining about. I felt him pull away before settling on a long, trench coat. Oddly enough, his long hair was tied up and it looked awfully good on him.

I sighed and lied down when he exited the room. To my surprise, I heard my name.

Curious, I stood up and leaned against the door. He seemed to be in a conversation with yet again an agitated Zayn.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You slept on the same bed with her? What, is cuddling our boss's daughter what's making you soft?" He spat exasperatedly.

Harry paused, but not for long before he snapped out, "I will fucking shoot you and do this myself, Zayn. I work alone just fine."

"That's clearly a lie since you've done nothing. Probably had your head on fucking the boss's daughter all this time," he bitterly snapped, and surprisingly Harry had not made a sound.

All I heard was a slam against the door, and it caused me to jump back. I quickly covered my mouth with my hand to avoid any unnecessary hints that I was listening.

"What the hell is your problem?" Harry barked. "I thought you and your sentimental shit were a package deal."

"Nothing's my problem, except that you think I don't know what you've really been up to." Zayn said loudly. "I'm not an idiot. Are you fucking the boss's daughter, Harry?"

"No, I'm not. I'm trying to get this shit together so we can figure out what the hell is the real problem here," he remarked.

Zayn was quiet for a brief moment. "I don't think you remember what happened to that kid a few weeks ago for even talking about Catalina. Remember? Mr. Gates himself sliced his throat," Zayn quietly hissed.

I furrowed my eyebrows in disgust, shaking my head and sighing at the heavily barbaric ways of my father.

"She's dangerous to love." He added.

Harry began to bitterly laugh, quite loudly if I may add.

"The day I love someone is a day that will most likely never arrive. Get over it, Zayn." He spat.

"Alright." Zayn roughly said. "Then let's get down to business."

They left, securing the building to make sure it was nearly impossible to come inside. As for me, I felt a tinge of anger and much disappointment.

Unfortunately, his words left a harsh print on my mind.

The undeniable feelings of being resented. And why I was so upset clearly reflects the way I have been feeling towards Harry these past few weeks.

I sat on the wooden floor for what seemed like an hour, but was only six minutes. My fingertips dragged across the skin of my legs. I quietly inhaled.

What's it going to take for him to realize I care about him? Through the various shit he's thrown at me, I have fallen for the man that holds me and puts me first whenever there is a bullet soaring in the air.

He would take a bullet for me, and it doesn't feel like he would do it only because he's assigned to.

"Where has my brain been, seriously?" I asked myself out loud.

Fuck, I am smart. I am supposed to use what I've learned and apply it.

No matter the discomfort of the situation...or that my "body guard" is an insanely attractive asshole.

I stood up and I promised myself in that instance that I would use my brain and work with whatever I've got. I've wasted enough time already.

With my heart in my throat, I scrambled to get to the computer. The program has been hacked, but I'm sure I can still access it because we have the base of the program installed into the computer.

I sighed and stood by the desk, bending over to read the screen.

I fumbled with the keyboard, finally admitting to myself that if I was going to do this I better be fast and I better sit down.

Files.

That's what I'm looking for. More specifically history files. On every man that has ever worked or works for my father.

They're by last names. And as I feverishly scrolled past the many last names, the one with Malik caught my eye.

Malik, Zayn.

Swallowing down any thought of anxiety, I was overridden with curiosity. I clicked on the file, and there was a picture of him.

His beard was just as professionally trimmed as when we were in Italy. But, now it has been growing messily.

Nevertheless, he was a handsome devil.

Malik, Zayn.

Born in Bradford, England. Age 21. Recruited on January 8, 2004

Genetic Record: Health at impeccable standards. Qualified hunter of three years. Works best with guns. Quick reflexes and extraordinary well balance. Ten years work worth for Rj Gates.

Kill count as of May 23, 2014 and back: 45

Family History: One sister suffering from blindness, living with mother and father. According to them, Zayn Malik no longer exists. His relationships must be eliminated in order to be emitted into the corporation.

I frowned at the information. This is saddening. All of it. Zayn had killed 45 people in his lifetime and he is only 21, and he started when he was eleven.

It kills to know someone was so angry at the world at eleven years of life.

I moved on, however. Onto Harry's file. I gulped and leaned my elbow onto the desk, scrolling until I saw Styles. I sighed and rubbed my face. This could give me some answers.

His picture was outstanding. So angry, yet so beautiful.

Styles, Harry

Born in Chesire, England. Age 20. Recruited on August 12, 2007.

Genetic Record: Outstanding mental performance. Impeccable physical ability. Works best with chemicals/explosives, guns, and hand-to-hand combat. Remarkable reflexes and time reducing impulses. Seven years of work for Rj Gates.

Kill count as of June 3, 2014 and back: 56

Family Record: Information is not available. Harry Styles was an orphan since birth, blood evidence therefore is not applicable. As for the world, Harry Styles does not exist. Elimination of the existing relationships must be applied in order to be emitted into the corporation.

I looked away from the computer and closed the program, first remembering to delete any trace of my findings.

This just wasn't very surprising in a way. I covered my face with my hands, sighing heavily. What a fucked up world this is.

I knew it had to be something like this. Harry was an orphan all his life, and he grew up around influences that must have affected him so badly.

The thought made me sick.

11:44AM

I sat by the couch when the door opened. In came Harry and Zayn. What surprised me was the large gash across Zayn's forearm, and the smudges of purple peppered across Harry's jaw.

As they moved closer inside, I saw small gashes on Harry's face as well as Zayn's.

I stood up from the couch and murmured, "What happened to you guys?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Zayn replied hastily.

Harry's eyes rolled, hand rubbing across his injured jaw. I stood up and went to examine him, and his pale green eyes watched me with displeasure for my actions.

"Catalina, I'm fine." He grumbled.

"No. You're not, let me clean it up for you," I told him gently, reaching to wipe away some dirt from his cheek.

I heard Zayn scoff to himself before he slammed the door to the bathroom.

Harry inhaled and pushed my hands away from his face.

"I don't fucking need help, alright?" He sighed angrily.

I didn't bother continuing the argument this could have been. "Okay, but can you at least tell me what happened?" I asked him.

He walked towards the bedroom, removing his shirt to reveal bruises dotted there as well. I winced just looking at his muscled back.

"Ray wasn't there. He's gone. And we need to get to him to get our answers. Unfortunately, someone else was already awaiting our arrival," he explained to me, stretching out his arms and screwing up his face from the strain in his muscles.

I stood by until I felt bold and placed my hands onto his chest, admiring his smooth, inked skin. He peered down at me, seemingly unaffected by my actions.

"Who was it?" I asked softly.

"The fucking Doncaster group. We need to pull out those maps and get to work again. Something's not right here," he stressed, shaking his head.

My hand ran through his curls as he watched me carefully. "You'll figure it out. I promise." I told him.

His hands slipped up and down my waist as he surprisingly raised a hand and placed it on my cheek.

"You're going to get me into so much trouble, Cata. I swear," he murmured.

I averted my eyes down to our feet, faint smirk curving into my lips. He's accepting my affection and even returning it. We're improving.

"What's wrong with...wanting to somehow return the favor for you protecting me...and giving up your life for the sake of mine?" I questioned lowly, lifting my eyes to see him.

Pale green eyes darted across my face, examining me. Gradually, he let out a sigh and whispered, "It's wrong for I can't count the days we have left until something hits. And I need to be prepared. To protect you, and to keep you safe."

"And maybe Zayn was right. It's wrong of me to do this. I'm crossing a line I can't erase," he confessed. "Shit happens, baby. And I would have lost a lot if you lose your life because of it."

Our lips touched, softly for a few seconds. It was just a peck, but it meant something to me I hope it did as well for him.

"I understand. It's your job," I muttered.

And my body melted when he said, "Maybe that's not the reason why anymore."

His fingers entangled with my hair, and my heart did summersaults inside of me when he pressed another kiss on my lips, this one being the last of the night.

+

Maps. Everywhere. Tossed to the floors. The marked colors I made on them came in handy. I sat by them, sorting out maps before Zayn asked, "Why is she helping? She's not allowed to be involved."

I stopped and nearly glared at him. Harry didn't look up from his own maps when he said, "Because she's the one who helped me sort out these damn maps in the first place. And Ray wrote this in Italian," he tossed a pile of papers to Zayn, and then pointed to me, "She...is the only one that can translate for us."

Zayn sighed. "Okay. Can you read to us what the Hell he wrote in those papers?"

I nodded and took the piles from him.

"He said uh...there's a man at the gala tonight that used to work for Mr. Gates. He resigned nearly two years ago. He's head and CEO of a company called Groganwar, that sells government influenced guns to the fellow, currently standing mafias. His name is Robert Grogan." I read to them fluently. "Find him and he'll tell you what you need to know."

Zayn sighed. "This is giving me a damn headache. Why's Ray running now?"

"Because he doesn't want to get killed, obviously," I told him. "And he could have been threatened or felt like he was in a way. Doesn't it make sense that the man that connects us with weapons, this Grogan guy, is connected to all the other mafias, so he'd now a lot over the other corporations?"

Harry spoke up. "Right. Whatever Ray knew must have been about this guy. And if so, we need to be at that gala tonight."

"Finally. A lead. Something we can work with." Zayn breathed, rubbing his hands across his face.

I stared at the maps before saying, "I want to go."

It was instant refusal.

"No."

"Hell no," Harry refused, upsettingly.

"I'm going."

"Catalina, they will recognize you," Zayn informed me. "If you go, it's over. Every man will be shooting up a storm."

"Exactly," Harry snapped. "And I will not allow that to happen."

I crossed my arms over my chest. Stubborn was an understatement.

"It's a masquerade gala. Purposely for how this Grogan man wants to reduce conflict and gather everyone on his behalf," I explained to them. "They would recognize Harry as well, if it weren't masquerade themed."

There was a pause.

"I don't care. My job is to protect you. And as long as there's a way to --"

I interrupted Harry. "Either you allow me to go, or I follow after you both. You can pick one. The second is kind of a horrible choice."

"Unbelievable," Zayn sighed.

Harry clenched his jaw, eyeing me down but I couldn't bring myself to fear him anymore.

Hours later I stood slipping on a black dress, it suited for the curved shape of my body. My hair was waved at the ends and my makeup carefully done with of course the impatient nagging that belonged to an agitated Harry.

"For God's sake, Cata, baby," he breathed as I walked out from the bathroom and slipped my feet into a pair of black heels.

He saw that I ignored him and he walked to the dresser where his guns and bullets lay at rest. He began to fill his pockets with necessary weapons.

And just as he turned around, I saw the black long sleeve button up and pants. The last upper buttons were undone, revealing a few of his tattoos. I nearly swooned. His hair was pushed back from his face.

I walked up to him and grabbed the collar of his shirt, murmuring, "You look really handsome." I offered him a smile.

Harry eyed me down gradually, his hand finding a place on my waist. "Don't think because you're giving me useless compliments that I'm still not mad at you."

My eyebrows furrowed. He was right. This wasn't good for my safety. But I wasn't going to back down now. I wanted to help them and I wanted to be apart of something that all began because of me. Regardless that death may be just around the corner.

"I'm not staying in here, while you go out there and nearly die for me." I told him sternly. "You need another person. This is much less frustrating when you put three minds together."

He raised his hand and ran it through his curls. A habit of his when he's running out of patience. The other hand remained against my waist.

"Cata, I can't let you die on me. So stay with me at all times. They won't expect you to be there. So, hopefully the masks will do. I just need you safe," he warned me softly. Softly. Damn, I thought I'd never see the day.

But it made me melt. It made me move closer to him as his hands found my hips and I could feel his chest on mine. And I could kiss his lips and savor their texture. I could wrap my arms around his neck. So he could pull me in tight and trail his touch downward to squeeze my ass with his large hand.

He deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue cunningly into my mouth, my toes curling from the insanity of his affection. His hand on my ass squeezed again, and a soft moan was muffled by his lips.

"Are you guys -- dear fucking God...are you...what the hell?" Zayn spat, and we broke apart to see him with a hand on his face, eyes closed in agitation.

I burned in the face and I knew it was obvious. Harry pulled away from me and grabbed a hold of my hand, and I shyly allowed him to entwine our fingers.

Zayn glanced at our hands and rolled his eyes. "Really? Fucking really?" He waved his hand as he spoke. "Completely asking for death. Both of you."

Harry monotonously said, "Get over it." He roughly shoved Zayn out of the way and lead me out of the bedroom.

Behind me, I heard Zayn ask himself, "Why did I see this coming?"

N: there will be a smut scene because i knew i was gonna get that but chillax horny fangirls i got this. just let me throw one in that makes sense. ;D

Thanks for reading. <3 so much.

Ask me anything and I'll pick one and answer it on the next update. :)