Page 3
Story: King of Obsession
So he’s afraid. Family ties are so messy.
“How is he different?”
“He’s expanding his family’s empire, making him look—”
He stops himself as if not able to admit someone could ever be better than him, when it wouldn’t take much to achieve that. The Council knows about Adamo’s proclivity to gamble, paying exorbitant amounts of money to indulge his lavish lifestyle. He’s not a contributor, he’s a spender.
Face to face, he lifts his hand to touch me, but raising my eyebrow stops him. No one touches me. My skin is a canvas of purity and flawlessness. No man will touch me. No man will get inside of me. No man will know me.
He glowers. “Get it done. Quickly.”
Done with having him in my space, I cast an intent look his way. “Don’t tell me how to do my job. You know how I work.”
“Yes, half the payment now. Half when it’s done.”
You still have a bit of time to give up on this, the voice inside my head says and quickly quiets. A ravenous desire for thetruth blasts through, deafening me. Not knowing has haunted me my entire life.
I’ve never reached this point before, so I never considered what happens afterward. What then? I will achieve my single life goal in my twenties. But the lifespan of an assassin is questionable at best. My name might be hushed in the underworld as if not to call on me, but there’s something else simmering below—pure hatred and the need for vengeance. I have the protection of the Council and that’s what I am gambling here. For a planner like me, this comes with a pile of risks that might as well bury me whole.
“The past is gone. All that matters is now.”Augustus’s words flash in my mind like a warning, but then Adamo opens his mouth.
“You were brought here from the States.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me to question everything—a wanderer lost in the jungle of her thoughts. If I want the other part of the puzzle, I have to kill Enzo.
Without a second thought, I walk straight to my desk.
Opening my laptop, I access the Council’s search engine. Typing his name, his photo pops up. The Council keeps information of friends and foes, intel gathered over the decades.
It doesn’t even matter to them which category you are. All that matters is that everyone stays in line. They’ve ruled for centuries, and if you disobey, they send people like me to eliminate you.
My eyes roll automatically at the picture of Enzo Ferrara stepping out of his black Lamborghini as he enters one of his hotels. The upper button of his black shirt is unfastened,revealing a strip of tanned skin and a silver object shining, most likely a necklace. Shades cover his eyes, but can’t hide his defined high cheeks and sharp jaw. No bodyguards surround him. It will be my easiest kill.
Tilting my head, I flip through pictures of him. Arrogance emanates from every single pose. From his smirk alone, self-confidence cascades like a waterfall. He’s a showoff just like any other man in our world.
I go through his file. He’s twenty-seven. Father dead, mother alive, sister Dahlia, a pianist, and his best friend is the youngest Pakhan in the Bratva’s history, Mikail Morozov. Interesting.
I can’t afford a single mistake, or I’ll have the Council and the Russian Bratva after me.
I graze my fingers over my diamond necklace. Every sparkly stone represents a tally for one of my kills: twenty-eight in total. And soon another one will follow. I feel nothing, not a jolt of excitement or a smidgen of pride. I wonder if there is something irremediable screwed up in my head.
After I book my flight, I call Augustus, each ring skyrocketing my unease. Inhaling deeply, I quickly steady my frayed nerves. I can’t have him doubting my intentions in the slightest.Why am I even nervous?
When he picks up, the deep rumble of his voice anchors me. “Luciana.”
“I decided to take a vacation after all.” There’s not a single inflection in my tone.
The silence on the other end is expected. He’s an overthinker, and it must come as a surprise. I stay silent, knowing if I babble, it will give me away.
“Things have been quiet, but I don’t like when you’re not available.”
Leaning back in my chair, I get as comfortable as possible. “My best people protect you. And if you need me, I’ll return as fast as possible.”
“What destination do you have in mind?”
“The States.”
A brief silence falls, infused with nervous energy.
“How is he different?”
“He’s expanding his family’s empire, making him look—”
He stops himself as if not able to admit someone could ever be better than him, when it wouldn’t take much to achieve that. The Council knows about Adamo’s proclivity to gamble, paying exorbitant amounts of money to indulge his lavish lifestyle. He’s not a contributor, he’s a spender.
Face to face, he lifts his hand to touch me, but raising my eyebrow stops him. No one touches me. My skin is a canvas of purity and flawlessness. No man will touch me. No man will get inside of me. No man will know me.
He glowers. “Get it done. Quickly.”
Done with having him in my space, I cast an intent look his way. “Don’t tell me how to do my job. You know how I work.”
“Yes, half the payment now. Half when it’s done.”
You still have a bit of time to give up on this, the voice inside my head says and quickly quiets. A ravenous desire for thetruth blasts through, deafening me. Not knowing has haunted me my entire life.
I’ve never reached this point before, so I never considered what happens afterward. What then? I will achieve my single life goal in my twenties. But the lifespan of an assassin is questionable at best. My name might be hushed in the underworld as if not to call on me, but there’s something else simmering below—pure hatred and the need for vengeance. I have the protection of the Council and that’s what I am gambling here. For a planner like me, this comes with a pile of risks that might as well bury me whole.
“The past is gone. All that matters is now.”Augustus’s words flash in my mind like a warning, but then Adamo opens his mouth.
“You were brought here from the States.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me to question everything—a wanderer lost in the jungle of her thoughts. If I want the other part of the puzzle, I have to kill Enzo.
Without a second thought, I walk straight to my desk.
Opening my laptop, I access the Council’s search engine. Typing his name, his photo pops up. The Council keeps information of friends and foes, intel gathered over the decades.
It doesn’t even matter to them which category you are. All that matters is that everyone stays in line. They’ve ruled for centuries, and if you disobey, they send people like me to eliminate you.
My eyes roll automatically at the picture of Enzo Ferrara stepping out of his black Lamborghini as he enters one of his hotels. The upper button of his black shirt is unfastened,revealing a strip of tanned skin and a silver object shining, most likely a necklace. Shades cover his eyes, but can’t hide his defined high cheeks and sharp jaw. No bodyguards surround him. It will be my easiest kill.
Tilting my head, I flip through pictures of him. Arrogance emanates from every single pose. From his smirk alone, self-confidence cascades like a waterfall. He’s a showoff just like any other man in our world.
I go through his file. He’s twenty-seven. Father dead, mother alive, sister Dahlia, a pianist, and his best friend is the youngest Pakhan in the Bratva’s history, Mikail Morozov. Interesting.
I can’t afford a single mistake, or I’ll have the Council and the Russian Bratva after me.
I graze my fingers over my diamond necklace. Every sparkly stone represents a tally for one of my kills: twenty-eight in total. And soon another one will follow. I feel nothing, not a jolt of excitement or a smidgen of pride. I wonder if there is something irremediable screwed up in my head.
After I book my flight, I call Augustus, each ring skyrocketing my unease. Inhaling deeply, I quickly steady my frayed nerves. I can’t have him doubting my intentions in the slightest.Why am I even nervous?
When he picks up, the deep rumble of his voice anchors me. “Luciana.”
“I decided to take a vacation after all.” There’s not a single inflection in my tone.
The silence on the other end is expected. He’s an overthinker, and it must come as a surprise. I stay silent, knowing if I babble, it will give me away.
“Things have been quiet, but I don’t like when you’re not available.”
Leaning back in my chair, I get as comfortable as possible. “My best people protect you. And if you need me, I’ll return as fast as possible.”
“What destination do you have in mind?”
“The States.”
A brief silence falls, infused with nervous energy.
Table of Contents
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