Within the walls of the Casino Royale Demacia, busy kitchen staff prepares exquisite dishes for their guests awaiting the food to be eloquently presented at their respective tables.
A few doors away from the bustle incorporated with the process of cooking and preparing dishes, the Summoner drags a lifeless body across the floor into a neglected storage room for extra cutlery and kitchen equipment. Locking the door behind him after depositing yet another tracking device atop his victim, the Summoner wipes the sweat off his brow and feels a sense of accomplishment.
All six presumed ORDER agents were dispatched, each one done so covertly without any witnesses.
Repeating the tradition of straightening and adjusting himself after a slight tussle, the Summoner proceeds to casually stroll through the busy kitchen, dodging the staff as they bustled about with their white hats and attire, none of them paying mind to him as their job demanded all of their attention.
After a few turns in the elaborate kitchen, he finds the desired door and opens it to find stairs leading down into a small cellar. Walking into the murky gloom, his eyes automatically adjust to the darkness, allowing him to view the glass bottles peeking out from wooden shelving. Dim lighting illuminates rack upon rack of expensive liquor, wine and champagne mixed among them. Grinning brightly, the Summoner walks along the shelves housing the vintage alcohol, running his finger along the tips of the bottles as he reads the labels to find one appropriate for the situation, his unoccupied hand shoved within his pocket.
He suddenly stops and extracts a bottle from the rack, reading the label to himself with a judging tone as his hands turn the bottle round for his eyes to read the text.
Grag, Clos Du Mensil 17 CLE
The Summoner's judgmental eyes suddenly brighten as the discerning frown curves into a grin.
With that, he turns on his heel and begins walking up the stairs to find a restaurant employee walking downwards into the darkness. At the sight of the Summoner ascending up the cellar stares, the mustachioed employee stops in his tracks, giving the Summoner a very confounded expression, eyeing the bottle of expensive Champagne in his hands.
At this, the Summoner pulls out a thick wad of Demacian mint bills, equivalent to 500 Valoran gold coins. Handing it to the bewildered employee, the Summoner places his hand on the man's shoulder as he continues his trek into the kitchen.
"Please, keep the change."
Sarah's body is sprawled lazily atop the couch within the Summoner's suite, her arms over her head as she gazed into the crystal chandelier above her. Her red hair lays about her head, her legs completely bare as a result of their leisurely position, one of them on top of the other.
She had just finished an hour-long shower, her dress and jewelry back in their respective positions on her body. As for her shoes and
other attire, she had placed them in a compartment next to the bed in the corner of the room.
During her time battling against herself in the shower, she finally came upon the decision to carry out her orders to eliminate her target. The bounty proved to be too much for her; she desperately needed that money.
Before the feeling of guilt incorporated with the aspect of killing her acquaintance could settle itself in her psyche once more, she jumps in surprise at the sudden sound of the door of the suite click open.
In walks the Summoner, that grin of his occupying his face as he wheels in a cart covered in a white cloth. Atop the cart stood an ornate silver ice bucket, its insides filled with ice to maintain the cold temperature of the champagne standing inside of its hollow center. Two slim glasses lay adjacent to the champagne, standing on their heads.
"Sorry for the long wait. Encountered a bit of trouble while obtaining the bubbly," the Summoner said as he turned his back to her, the sound of crinkly wrappings and the popping of a cork followed by the distinct sound of bubbling liquor meeting Sarah's ears as she stands.
"But it was definitely worth it."
Sarah doesn't reply.
A grim frown occupies her visage as she makes her way around the couch, eyes locked onto the Summoner's back as he continues to busy himself with the champagne.
At the moment the Summoner pours the golden foamy liquid into one of the glasses, his eyes watching with vigor as he judiciously allowed the amount to fill the glass without letting it overflow. He proceeds to fill the other glass when he stops mid-pour, setting down the champagne glass, his head rising towards to face the wall in front of him.
The content grin that his lips were curled into mere moments before was now distorted into an amused sneer.
His back tingled with danger, the feeling of a gun resting upon his skin.
"Ruger Mark II .22, semiautomatic with
a Welrod Mark I silencer, I assume."
The Summoner suddenly turns around to face her, smiling inwardly at the shocked look on Sarah's face as she continued pointing the copper-toned gun at him, her legs outstretched for balance. His hand reaches around his back to bring about one of the champagne-filled glasses, but the Summoner's eyes continue looking down the black mouth of the gun, his eyebrows raised to indicate his approval.
I stand corrected. A Hextech Integrally Suppressed barrel," he says before continuing to nonchalantly take a sip from the golden liquor in his hand, eyes removing themselves from Sarah's gun to lock with her bewildered face.
Sarah manages to finally speak.
"H-How did you-"
"Simple, my dear Sarah," the Summoner replies, placing the champagne glass behind him before taking slow, deliberate steps towards her ."I work for LSMI6, the most powerful intelligence agency in all of Runeterra. We know everything."
He continues to close the distance between them, simultaneously removing his tie before proceeding to take off his suit. Though she clearly had the advantage, Sarah is intimidated by the Summoner's casual persona, taking one step back with every step the Summoner took forward.
Sarah's arms begin to quiver as a sudden realization strikes her heart, the feeling not dissimilar from an arrow piercing through a soldier's armor.
"S-So you knew I
Her face begins to contort into one filled with anguish, tears beginning to cascade from her eyes. Even before the dreaded words left her mouth, Sarah begins to break down; that resolve, the willpower to strive for a paycheck, crumbling in front of her eyes.
Still, her arms outstretch before her, aimed at the Summoner's chest as he proceeded to unbutton his shirt, still advancing toward her.
y-you knew I was going to kill you."
She finally managed to croak, more realization landing on top of her like a ton of bricks. The tears couldn't stop, the recollection of the Summoner's demeanor toward her flooding her mind as water breaks from a dam filled to capacity.
"That is correct." the Summoner replies, unbuttoning the last button to his white shirt before tossing it aside on the ground, revealing his chiseled chest, his abdomen slightly glistening from sweat. His feet still moving one after the other towards the trembling woman before him, The Summoner takes a peek over her shoulder; only a few more paces and she would have nowhere to retreat to, nowhere to escape him.
Sarah still points the gun at him, her eyes filled with disbelief as her steps come to a halt, her backside hitting the wooden nightstand beside the bed. Her hands grip the pistol only as a reassurance, a firm hold to prevent her from crumpling to the ground.
"Y-you knew and yet," she shakes her head vigorously at the prospect, her red locks flaying in the air, tears flying with them. "
and yet you still treated me l-like I was-"
She suddenly feels her wrist roughly grabbed by the Summoner, cutting her off mid-sentence and forcing her eyes to lock with his. The Summoner's expression had changed to one more grim, that cold-blooded fire returning to his eyes. Sarah's heart skips a beat, a result of fear and longing as her eyes beheld the man before her.
"Like you were a woman," the Summoner said, finishing her sentence. Seizing the pistol from her hand, his eyes still locked with hers. His voice, cold and gruff, changes to one that is softer as he places Sarah's limp arms around his neck, her smooth skin pressing against his bare shoulders.
Sarah could barely hear the gun being placed upon the wooden nightstand behind her as she loses herself in his eyes, the eyes she had secretly desired to look into all night long "which is how you should always be treated, no matter the circumstances."
At those words, Sarah became his.
Her eyes close to allow more tears to flow from them as the Summoner closes the spaces between their lips, everything else forgotten and neglected as her arms bring him in, all duties and matters of employment discarded to some faraway corner of Runeterra.
As the Summoner leads them to the bed, Sarah doesn't notice him gently place his Walther PPK underneath a pillow.
Okay, I promise to write a lemon next chapter. XD
I just wanted to appeal to the women who are reading this (if there are any -_-), but showing my Summoner's inner (and outer?) gentleman.
So, expect the smuttiness to finally commence by next week.