Page 30 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

Could it be tears?

I hold them back by thinking of things that calm me. The curve of a sharpened steel knife, the edge of a cliff, a man falling, blood dripping. The tears disappear, my heart steadies its beats per minute.

"By tomorrow, I expect you to have your prey, Huntress." The Handler warns, his voice cold and piercing like a dagger. That’s my cue to leave, and I stand. He suddenly reaches out and grabs my hand. I look down at him, wanting to be free of his touch but forcing myself not to flinch or jerk back.

He has his neck craned up at me, and he slowly speaks out a threat, one word at a time. "I’ve always demanded complete honesty. Lying to me is unforgivable. Pray that you’ll never see what my vengeance looks like.."

His words send a shiver down my spine, and I focus on breathing, letting the spit rest in my mouth, postponing the gulp.

He’s messing with my head. He keeps suggesting I’m keeping secrets, and yet he is sending me back to complete a failed mission. I’ve known the Handler long enough to know he likes toying with those that anger him.

And those that fail him.

And those that disappoint him.

The only problem is that I don’t know what he thinks I did. Am I a traitor, a failure, a weakling?

To protect myself, I have to carry on as always. In one quick go, I pull away my arm and meet his gaze with a look that could turn rain into ice. I then stare down at his hand, showing him I despise that he grabbed me.

I turn on my heels and then pause, with my back to him. I crane my neck to the right, just till I can see his outline from the corner of my eye. "I understand," I say. The weight of his warning bears down on me, making it harder to breathe.

I stand there, waiting for dismissal.

"Good." I feel his gaze burn into my back. "You may go."

The door to the warehouse creaks as I push it open and step out into the cool night air. The scent of saltwater fills my nostrils, and I take deep breaths to try to steady my racing heart.

I want to get the hell out of here. But not yet.

I inch myself up against the wall and stand there. He forgets that I know him well.

Then, I hear it. Within the warehouse, a steel door creeks open and then a man’s voice I don’t recognize."Is she gone?"

The Handler’s tone is venomous. "Make sure she doesn't get too far. I want to know every move she makes and who she speaks to. Do not let her out of your sight."

"Understood," the man responds.

My heart hammers in my chest, each beat pounding in my ears as I try to process what I've just heard. It seems my fears were justified – the Handler doesn't trust me, and he has sent an unknown face to spy on me.

This means there’s danger all around, from anyone, anywhere.

I quickly slide off my shoes and slip away from my hiding spot, running silently towards my car. The night is dark and still, the only sound is the distant crashing of waves against the shore.

My mind races with thoughts of Vincenzo, the golden arrow, and the consequences of deception, each one sending another wave of dread washing over me.

The moment I slide into the driver's seat, panic fully sets in. My thoughts swirl chaotically, each one punctuated by the knowledge that every move I make will be monitored.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as I try to force some semblance of calm into my frantic mind.

"Stay focused, Camela," I whisper to myself, taking a shaky breath. "You can do this. You've faced worse."

But even as I try to reassure myself, doubt gnaws at the edges of my conviction. What if I fail? What if I bring harm to Vincenzo simply by being there?

"Stay in control," I mutter, forcing my trembling hands to start the engine. As the car roars to life, I steel myself for what lies ahead. There's no turning back now – I must face whatever comes at the event and pray that I can navigate this dangerous game without losing everything that has suddenly become important to me.

"Damn it!" I slam my hand against the steering wheel, my anger spilling over. "Why did I have to get involved with that stupid arrow?"

I feel responsible for ensnaring Vincenzo in the crosshairs of danger simply because I took something on impulse.

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