Page 72 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

“Veronika,” she confirms with a nod. I observe her firm grasp and the intensity in her eyes as they dart between his as if committing him to memory. Once she lets go, Vincenzo withdraws his hand, shaking off the lingering touch.

I frown. There’s something intense about her. Shouldn’t guides be more amiable?

She’s wearing tight black trousers, with a black shirt tucked in. To my surprise, she’s in heels. Not just heels but stilettos. What kind of guide dresses in high heels for a tour through ancient ruins?

“Shall we proceed?” her eyes flicker over me for just a brief second and I see a smile cross her lips. It’s not directed at me because her eyes move across my face towards an alley on the Western end of the Forum. “We can begin with The Temple of Saturn.”

That smile, it’s haunting. And her accent? It’s not Italian. It sounds vaguely… Eastern European.

“Please, lead the way,” Vincenzo says, in that gentleman-like manner, coming closer to stand beside me. Veronika walks ahead, never once turning back to see if we follow.

Vincenzo hurries, pulling me along to walk beside her.

Veronika's high heels click against the stone path, echoing hollowly in the quiet night. She moves with a confidence that borders on arrogance, her gaze flickering over the ruins as if they’re not worth her time.

Something doesn’t add up. I can't shake off the unease that’s settled in my gut from the moment she appeared.

We approach the Temple of Saturn, the colossal columns rising like silent sentinels against the moonlit sky. Veronika gestures towards the entrance, and through it, her smile never quite reaches her eyes.

“Largely reconstructed, the temple today has eight surviving columns. Originally built in the 5th century BC, during the early years of the Roman Republic, it was dedicated to the Roman god of agriculture and wealth. It underwent several redesigns, and the ruins we see today primarily reflect the changes made in the 4th century BC, during the reign of Emperor Diocletian. The temple was of deep importance to rulers and played a prominent role in religion when the empire suffered from famines.”

"Intriguing," Vincenzo murmurs, his eyes roaming the ancient structure. I can see the historian in him now, as he makes deductions most visitors wouldn’t.

"The importance of agriculture and wealth to the ancient Romans is evident in the grandeur of this temple. It exemplifies the strong foundation for a civilization."

Veronika looks at him and smiles. Cold, detached. Like she’s playing a role. She offers no comment and I feel something clutch my heart.

“Come,” she says, turning her back to us to take us further.

"Excuse me," Vincenzo says suddenly, releasing my hand. "I need to use the restroom if you don’t mind."

"Of course," the guide replies, her eyes now warm. She smiles sweetly at him and extends her arm to the right. "I'll show you where to go so you don’t get lost."

I can feel my instincts kicking in, a warning that something isn't quite right with this woman.

"Vincenzo is perfectly capable of finding his own way," I interject, putting a whine to my voice. "Besides, I still have so many questions for you! Please, won’t you stay?”

The guide hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. “He could get lost.”

“I’ll be quite alright,” Vincenzo says warmly, placing an arm across my waist to give me a quick kiss on my cheek before pulling away. “I’ve been to the Forum many times during my student days, and I believe I remember most of the pathways. I’ll catch up with you both; don’t worry.”

There’s a tense silence, and Veronika’s eyes narrow. “As you wish,” she says curtly.

As Vincenzo disappears around a corner, I turn to face the guide. Who is this woman, and what does she want? The air between us crackles with tension, waiting for one of us to make the first move.

Or perhaps I’m being paranoid. I can’t just attack her unprovoked. If she’s innocent, it will be front-page news by tomorrow, and Vincenzo would have a lot of questions. I need to get a good read on her.

If she is an assassin, she’ll make the first move.

I take a step to my right, pretending to look at the carvings on a marbled pillar. From the corner of my eye, I observe her movements. Her eyes track me like a hawk, one hand hovering near her waistband. Is she armed?

My senses heighten, scanning for other threats. But we appear to be alone among the ancient monuments.

“So,” I begin. “This structure–”

But before I can complete my sentence, I catch a glint of metal. I jump to face her, my arms outright in a position to defend myself and see her fingers clutching a blade tucked within her pants, her shirt lifted ever so slightly.

Neither of us move, and her eyes latch onto mine.

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