Chapter 1: Check-In with a Killer’s Edge
The neon sign of Hazbin Hotel flickered like a dying star in the crimson haze of Hell’s skyline. I stepped through the creaking double doors, the scent of brimstone and cheap whiskey clinging to the air. Name’s Russell, a hitman who didn’t quite make it to the pearly gates—big surprise. My leather jacket still bore the bloodstains of my last job, a botched hit that landed me here. In my pocket, a crumpled file of unfinished business: names of the damned who still needed a bullet with their name on it. Hell might be my new home, but I wasn’t done playing reaper.
Behind the check-in desk stood Vaggie, the hotel’s no-nonsense manager, her sharp eyes slicing through me like a switchblade. Her dark hair framed a face that could kill with a glare, and her posture screamed ‘don’t fuck with me.’ I liked her already.
‘Name and cause of death,’ she snapped, pen poised over a ledger that looked older than sin itself.
‘Russell. Took a bullet to the chest during a job gone south. Guess I’m here for the eternal happy hour,’ I quipped, leaning on the counter with a smirk. My voice was gravel, rough from too many cigars and too little mercy.
Vaggie’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. ‘Cute. But this ain’t a bar, hitman. Hazbin’s for redemption, not reliving your glory days. Got any baggage besides that ego?’
I patted my jacket pocket, the file crinkling under my fingers. ‘Just a few names I owe a visit. Unfinished business, sweetheart. You gonna help me settle the score, or do I gotta play lone wolf?’
Her eyes narrowed, but there was a spark of intrigue. ‘Call me sweetheart again, and I’ll carve your tongue out. But I’m curious. What’s a dead killer got left to kill for? Spill it, or I’m tossing you to the curb.’
I chuckled, low and dangerous. ‘Power, darling. Down here, it’s all about who owes who. These names? They’re my ticket to running a slice of this inferno. And I bet a woman like you knows a thing or two about leverage.’
Vaggie stepped around the desk, closing the distance between us. Her presence was electric, a storm barely contained. ‘You think I’m some pawn in your game? I run this joint, Russell. If anyone’s got leverage, it’s me. But I’ll bite—what’s in it for me if I help you?’
My gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, a slow burn igniting in my chest. ‘How about a partner who plays dirty? I’m good with my hands, Vaggie. Real good. And not just with a gun.’
Her breath hitched, just for a split second, but I caught it. She smirked, stepping closer, her voice a husky challenge. ‘Big talk for a dead man. You think you can handle a woman who doesn’t break? Prove it.’
The air crackled as I reached out, my fingers brushing her jaw, rough against her smooth skin. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, she grabbed my collar, yanking me down to her level. ‘Don’t start something you can’t finish, hitman,’ she growled, her lips inches from mine.
‘Oh, I always finish,’ I shot back, my other hand sliding to her hip, pulling her against me. I could feel the heat of her through her tight shirt, the tension coiling like a spring ready to snap. My cock was already stirring, hard and insistent, as her eyes burned into mine with a challenge I was dying to meet.
Her fingers tightened on my collar, and she shoved me back against the desk, her body pressing into mine. ‘Then let’s see how long you last,’ she taunted, her voice dripping with promise. I could feel her heat, her pussy so close through the fabric, and I was damn near panting already, horny as hell. The room spun as her lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding, her tongue claiming me like she owned every inch of my damned soul.
And fuck, I was ready to let her. My hands roamed her ass, gripping tight as she ground against me, wet heat teasing through our clothes. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was war, and I was ready to lose every battle if it meant feeling her come undone beneath me.
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