Page 18 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

The Handler’s lessons always guide me when I prepare: “Pick every part of your outfit with calculated care. Each piece must serve you in your purpose.”

"Functionality is key," I remind myself as I pick a clever bracelet with a concealed pin that extends when triggered, ready to cut at a moment's notice. The needle scratches the skin, delivering the poison.

Carefully, I clasp it around my wrist, the cold metal encircling my wrist like a snake. I breathe deeply to relax, knowing that the anti-venom is in a hidden compartment on the underside.

As a backup, I slip a small, elegant gun into the folds of my purse. It is lightweight yet packs enough power to bring down any threat.

As I place the gun in a hidden pocket, a gleam catches my eye - the golden arrow resting among the bedazzled trinkets. Picking it up, I examine its intricate design, running my fingers over the detailed etchings that cover its surface.

I twist the arrowhead gently, revealing the hidden mechanism that reduces the arrow to just its ornate head.

It defies all laws of physics every time I see the arrow do this. Impressed by the brilliant craftsmanship, I deem that it could prove useful. I slip it into my purse, pleased with my growing arsenal.

What souvenir might I pick from tonight’s hunt?

I ignore the valet’s offer to help me park and choose a spot near the exit gates. I won’t leave the success of my escape up to anyone but myself.

The night air kisses my skin as I step out of my car and begin the walk up to the Consolini mansion.

It was a disappointing challenge to get myself invited. I hacked his digital labyrinth of firewalls and encryption protocols and added my details to the guest list.

With the custom-made scripts that the Handler, the Snake and I developed, bypassing the authentication measures was child’s play. The Don’s security was no match for my skills.

"Ah, the things the mighty forget to focus on when their power makes them careless," I muse, thinking how Don Vincenzo Consolini probably believes himself to be untouchable simply by virtue of his position in this world.

I ascend the three marble steps leading to the ornately carved double-door entrance. The armed guards towering on each side miss nothing. Little do they know I’ve been watching them far longer than they have me.

The doorman smiles as I give him my coat and pass through the foyer and into the main hall.

As I step inside, I'm immediately engulfed by the opulence of my surroundings. The chandeliers cast a warm glow over the guests, their laughter swinging to the music of the string quartet.

The soft clinking of glasses adds a haunting melody, one I’ll never get used to.

I don’t belong here, but I’ve been trained to fit in wherever I go. I assess the scene and walk towards a waiter holding a tray of champagne. I pick one.

"Stunning, isn't it?" A gentleman to my left murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Indeed," I agree, feigning awe. In reality, this excess only fuels my resolve. It's time to strike and be rid of my Handler’s enemy.

I keep on a coy smile, giving gentle nods to the men who part to let me pass. I navigate through the influential crowd with ease, my focus unwavering. I scan each face, and my senses are heightened, every instinct honed to perfection.

And then, like a tiger in a jungle, I spot my prey in the midst of hundreds. Vincenzo weaves through the crowd, his confident stride drawing admiring glances from the guests.

Now, I need his attention. I begin to walk towards him with deliberate grace, and when I am inches from him, I see his eyes flicker in my direction.

Just at that point, I turn to my left, right in the direction of a distracted walking man and pretend to open my purse to look for something. As per my calculations, the man bumps right into me.

“Oh, goodness me!” I exclaim loudly, holding onto my chest with one arm while pretending to lose my balance.

The man reaches over to grab me, holding me up.

“My apologies, miss. I didn’t notice you there,” he says. “Are you quite alright?”

I look down and gaze at him through downward-cast eyes. “No damage done,” I say and squeeze his shoulder before walking by.

Then, I turn and look at the floor behind me, searching for–

“Are you looking for this, miss?” my prey walks straight into my trap. I gasp in surprise and stare right at the lipstick I dropped during my little collision.

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