Page 133 of Diavolo

The girl knew how to handle a weapon.

"What am I doing wrong?" Elyse demanded.

Mariposa arched an eyebrow. "Do you really want to know?"

"Of course."

Mariposa pursed her lips as she cast a critical eye in Elyse's direction. "Trigger control is faulty."

Elyse's brow knitted. "What?"

"Your trigger pull needs to be straight as an arrow."

This still didn't compute for Elyse. "Um..."

Mariposa released a growl of impatience, "Do not exert pressure on the sides of the trigger. Focus the touchpoint as close to the center of your finger pad and the center of the trigger as possible. Then... pull back."

"Ah."

Elyse readjusted her finger on the trigger, taking heed of Mariposa's instructions like an eager pupil.

"Plus, you flinch like a littlebambinaevery time the gun fires. Make a conscious effort to keep your wrists steady."

Elyse grimaced. "The recoil is strong, though. Sometimes it catches me off guard."

Mariposa sighed as though speaking to a slow-witted child, "That is because your mind is weak. Your grip is weak, too."

Elyse felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Alessandro had been a far more lenient teacher than Mariposa, and, while Elyse found the younger woman's criticisms to be annoying, pricking uncomfortably at her pride, she also appreciated the girl's unapologetically direct, precise explanations. Like a physician diagnosing the cause of disease and prescribing a viable treatment for the patient. It was extremely helpful. Moreso than her husband's encouraging but far less actionable advice.

"Thank you, Mari," Elyse murmured humbly.

Mariposa spent the next half hour relentlessly chipping away at Elyse's problem areas. Her stance. Her grip. Her pull.

With thickened skin and steely resolve, Elyse kept listening, changing, adapting, fine-tuning, and practicing until they ran out of ammunition and her arms and hands and shoulders ached with fatigue. By the end of the hour, though, she managed to hit her first bullseye at a ten-foot distance.

"Dumb luck," Mariposa scoffed, but there was a gleam of approval in her dark eyes.

"No," Elyse replied, "none of this was luck. You're an excellent mentor. I'm a grateful student. I've said it before, and I'll say it again.We make a good team."

Mariposa wrinkled her nose. Elyse no longer wished to beat around the bush. "I need your help."

"I know."

"Name your price."

Mariposa smirked. "Depends on the size of your ask. What do you want from me?"

Elyse began to state her case, "You're friends with Cara. Good friends. Right?"

"I have known Cara for a long time. Yes."

"She hates me," Elyse expressed, "but she seems to tolerate you."

Mariposa laughed and drawled in snippy tones, "If you wanted her to tolerate you as well, you should not have married her beloved Alessandro."

Elyse didn't let Mariposa's jab deter her. She stayed the course. "Do you think you could keep an eye on Cara for me?"

A shrewdness crept over Mariposa's face. "You want me to spy on the Berlusconis?"

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