Page 28 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

She took something. I’m certain of it.

"Camela," I sigh, choosing my words carefully. "There's something you should know about this mission. The historian was in possession of an ancient artifact – a golden arrow with powers beyond our understanding."

She sits there unblinking, her breaths controlled. She is trying very hard to appear calm.

I continue to watch her closely for any sign of recognition or guilt. "This arrow has the power to make anyone fall in love completely and beyond their control. Now, you can imagine how dangerous that can be, can’t you?”

“Love?” she questions.

“Yes, love. Love makes people weak and makes them do crazy things. It makes people stab the ones they care about in the back. Now, you wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?” I ask straight up.

A fleeting expression of surprise crosses her face before she quickly regains her stoic demeanor. Her hands clench in her lap, but other than that, she’s wearing her usual calm exterior.

"Love is a weapon of the feeble, Handler. I assure you, I have no interest stooping to such level," Camela replies, her voice steady but lacking its usual ice-cold tone.

Her omission of the golden arrow is conspicuous, but I decide to keep my suspicions to myself for now. There's a chance she simply didn’t take it, that a conversation about love is simply uncomfortable for her, since she doesn’t understand the concept.

However, I can't shake the nagging feeling that something has changed within her, something that may jeopardize the success of my mission and the years of training I've invested in her.

I need to remind her of that.

“That arrow, if possessed by the wrong party, can put countries at war. I need that arrow, Camela. I want it.”

She nods furiously. “Eliminating the historian was just the first step. Vincenzo might be in possession of the arrow. That is why you were sent to eliminate him.” “Might?” she questions.

Interesting. She has never questioned the validity of a kill, just always played her game to fish for the reason of the kill.

“He might or might not possess the arrow. Does that bother you, Camela?”

“Never,” she shakes her head, a smile on her face.

She sure knows how to play a good game.

I lean back in my chair, locking eyes with Camela as I lay the trap with my words. “So now, you understand why I’d like to acquire that arrow?

I would have the power to bring politicians, actresses, activists, journalists, all to their knees. Eliminating Vincenzo is one step closer to getting that arrow.”

Chapter 10

Camela

I don’t believe in god or fate, but this coincidence is too uncanny to ignore.

Eliminating Vincenzo is one step closer to getting that arrow. The Handler’s words play on repeat in my head, almost driving me crazy.

On the one hand my relationship with the Handler is straight forward, black-and-white. My reason for existing is him. Without him, I would accomplish nothing, be nothing.

I’ve never lied to him.

On the other hand, our dynamic is complex. He’s not my father figure, but my loyalty to him is the same as if to a father, had I had one. I’ve never kept secrets from him; partly because he was the one who taught me to conceal lies, rendering them futile in his presence.

I live to serve him. So how the hell did I find myself in this situation? In what universe can things get so out of control that the first time I decide to pick a ‘souvenir’ for my kill, that god-damn stolen piece becomes exactly what the handler is looking for?

I try to withstand the Handler’s scrutiny with a steady gaze while my mind spins with everything he just revealed to me.

I believe I’ve fallen victim to the arrow’s powers. My target, Vincenzo, has become my greatest weakness. If the Handler finds out, he might just slit my throat.

It’s too late to come clean with him now. He had already laid his trap when he asked if I took something.

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