Page 10 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

I abandon this wall. Ancient scrolls piled high on a table beckon me closer, their parchment fragile and yellowed with age. I gently unroll one, careful not to damage it. I examine the faded ink, trying to make sense of the text. It seems anciently irrelevant.

I continue to explore, unable to deny the allure of the relics surrounding me. I pick a single piece to commemorate my workmanship.

This room holds a power that draws me in, tempting me to linger just a moment longer.

"Such incredible history," I say softly, the knowledge from centuries past bearing down upon me.

Just then, a shimmer of gold catches my eye, stealing my attention. I move closer, drawn to the object as if summoned. There, resting on a silk pillow, lies a golden arrow – but as I draw nearer, it’s not a plain golden arrow.

I gasp as it gives off a shimmer in the dark. I pick it up and almost drop it; it's touching my skin warm.

“How?” I whisper in astonishment as I try to decipher the source of its glow. It is thin, as thin as the tine of a fork, and long, longer than my arm. At its head is an inverted heart, its tip decorated with the tiniest, perfectly pointed ruby. I examine it with keen interest.

"Beautiful," I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away from the exquisite craftsmanship. "So unlike anything I've ever seen before."

I hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not this is a fitting souvenir for this kill. My instincts scream at me to leave it be – to close my mission and exit the villa without unnecessary risks.

But what more appropriate gift for a huntress than an arrow? I muse, twisting it over again and again. "To think the professor kept such a unique treasure hidden from the world."

As my fingers brush against the cool ruby at the tip, I feel a jolt of energy surge through my body. The sensation is both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving me wondering what kind of force could be contained within such a seemingly delicate artifact.

Despite the fear it brings out in me, I yearn to possess it, to master it.

"That’s settled," I say softly, gritting my teeth and steeling myself for whatever side effect this thing might come with, "you're coming with me."

I grip it tighter and playfully tap the hood of the arrow. I’m about to turn around and walk out of here when I feel something shift in my palm. I look down, and the wind gets knocked right out of me.

The arrow is folding into itself. I watch, mesmerized, as it turns to the size of my thumb.

Bloody hell! It’s like you were crafted to be concealed.

This arrow just made the whole act of stealing it so much easier.

Carefully, I pocket the golden arrow, treating it with the reverence I instinctively know it deserves. With renewed determination, I turn my attention to getting the hell out of here. The clock is ticking, and I can't afford any more distractions.

The Handler must be waiting for news.

"Time to go," I whisper, slipping back into the shadows as the bookcase creaks closed behind me, sealing the ancient secrets within.

The moon casts a silvery glow over the gardens of the mansion as I slip out of the house, my heart still pounding from adrenaline. I walk out with confidence. The CCTVs are already out. No one will be able to place me at the scene tonight.

With one final backward glance at the villa, I slip onto the sleeping streets, leaving behind the murdered professor and his secrets. The warm Mediterranean breeze caresses my face, carrying the scent of wildflowers and citrus trees as I make my way toward a rendezvous point several kilometers away.

Once I reach the secure location, I pull out the satellite phone with encrypted channels, my fingers deftly dialing the familiar number. The Handler's voice crackles through the static, cold and detached as always.

"Report," he orders, wasting no time on pleasantries.

"Target eliminated," I reply, keeping my tone steady and professional. "No complications."

"Good," The Handler says, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "You'll receive further instructions within twenty-four hours. Dispose of the phone once we've concluded this call."

"Understood," I acknowledge, feeling the weight of the golden arrow pressing against my thigh. For a moment, I consider telling him about the artifact – but then, an inner urge to keep this discovery to myself stops me.

I know just what he would say. A souvenir creates a bond with your victim. You must never tolerate any form of emotion.

He would view this need of mine as a weakness. Best, I say nothing.

"Huntress," The Handler says, his voice pulling me back to the present. "Well done."

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