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As I drive across the city, darkness engulfs it. The night is starless, as if mourning in advance. The only source of light is artificial, casting Venice in a glow.

I leave my bike in a dark alley next to my safe house, located by the water, and hop onto my boat. The water lashes at the sides as if trying to pull it under as I speed toward Augustus’s place. With the slight waves rocking the boat, it will make the hit a bit more difficult, but it’s more of an adjustment to the scope.

I stop the engine and set up the tripod that will hold my rifle. From a safe distance, I see his men patrolling from therooftop of the old, decadent residence fit for the king he always wanted to be.

All I care about is seeing the life fading from his eyes. The man turned me into a tool—his tool. Every fiber in my being recoils, revolting at that thought and demanding vengeance. Tonight, I will end his influence over me.

I aim and the first guard drops dead. His body splashes into the canal, and the water takes him as an offering. The next two follow, and I have to hurry before the others notice what’s happening.

Bringing the boat along the small dock, I take advantage of the guard’s lack of attention—he’s on his phone. I move behind him and lift the gun with the silencer to his head and shoot. I don’t care about the blood splatters on my suit as his body falls over the deck.

Slipping inside the building, I have my gun drawn, pointing from right to left. More guards will await me. Twenty men constantly roam the perimeter but not even a hundred could save him now. Augustus won’t escape my wrath.

In the round alcove on the first floor, two guards are chatting, and I shoot them in precise movements. But one takes a vase with him and it shatters on the marble, causing an earsplitting noise that blows my cover. My adrenaline doesn’t spike—the fight-or-flight instinct is under control as I duck behind a thick column—calm and collected, just like my steady breathing.

Shooting at the next three in a rapid fire, their bodies pile up, creating a river of blood on the floor. More guards pour in from the four stories and bullets whiz past my arms and legs, but I take them all down.

I don’t look for injuries. I don’t fucking care. Not even a hole the size of my heart can stop me now that I am so close to him.

Confidence surges through me as I take the path to his office. Most certainly, he was escorted by the remaining men to the safe room in his office, which locks from the inside the moment he presses the panic button. I tsk, sure Augustus didn’t change the code—he’s too confident and now that will result in his downfall.

Another guard tries to sneak up on me, leaving me no time to turn and shoot. I kneel, pull out the knife from my boot, and slam it in his thigh before slicing through an artery. He’ll bleed to death in mere moments.

Brushing the knife against my black attire, I slip it back into my boot, and I enter the code. The metallic door parts and I slip through the wooden one. Inside, Augustus stands in wait. He purses his thin lips hard enough they form a white line.

“Luciana,” he shouts my name as he jerks his chin toward the two men who point their guns at me.

This is a tricky situation. I can kill one but not both at the same time and I haven’t come this far to fail now.

Fuck it. Shooting the one from the left, I get down, sliding over the floor. The other one misses. I don’t have time to reload, so I throw the gun aside. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, and we engage in a knife fight. The knives slice through the air as we aim for the other, trying to find a spot to thrust in and cause a fatal injury. I kick his away with my foot, but that doesn’t stop him.

He strikes out, hitting me square in the stomach, forcing the air from my lungs. Spitting blood at his feet, I go at him.Climbing up his chest, I drag him down, and he falls back to the ground with a thud. He recovers quickly, but I clench my thighs around his neck, suffocating him.

Snapping his neck, I roll off him and stand up, watching as Augustus tries to run away. Rushing to a discarded knife, I pick it up and throw it. It grazes his ear before it sticks into the door at his front.

“Lock the door and turn around, Augustus,” I sneer.

His hand brushes over his split ear and blood sticks to his fingertips. In his silk bathrobe, he looks like an old man with sagging skin and a pale complexion. Only in my head did I make him into something bigger than he is.

Taking a seat in his armchair, I wave my retrieved and reloaded gun through the air. He clenches his jaw, not liking my display of power.

He puffs his chest. “What is this about?”

That he dares to ask almost makes me lose my mind and kill him on the spot. But I want him to suffer and hate every second he remains alive. He blocked all my accounts. Only some cash in my hiding places remained. He excommunicated me, killed my mother, sent me to a godforsaken orphanage, and made me into the assassin of my mother’s killer. Each one enrages me to the point black spots dot my vision.

“I am here to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t dare. I made—–”

Pointing the gun at him, I shoot him in his right arm. His wails pierce the room—what lovely sounds to my greedy ears.

“The others will be here any moment now. I rang the alarm.”

“Good, it makes my job easier.”

His brown eyes become slits as he narrows them on me. People who have held onto their power until they believe they’re untouchable never understand what went wrong.

I gesture with my gun to the armchair across from his desk. “Sit, now.”