Page 31 of Bratva Knight

His eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Fine. I’ll admit there’ssometruth to it.”

Just as I assumed. The Cosa Nostra were old school.Veryold school. Women were to be sheltered and protected, never put in harm's way. Blah, blah, blah.

I knew Illayana’s appearance within the Cosa Nostra had caused issues. The soldiers weren’t used to taking orders from a woman. Or evenseeinga woman so involved in the day-to-day life, for that matter. So, yes, in a way I could understand Arturo’s sexist thinking. It was all he and his men knew, after all.

Although I was sure my best friend was well on the way to changing that.

“Good,” I nodded. “Let’s get on with it then.”

Arturo leant back, tapping his finger on the armrest. “My wife has mentioned several times that you're quite observant.”

It didn’t really warrant a response, so I said nothing.

“When you entered, you scanned the room, much like Illayana does when she steps into an unfamiliar place. Something I have no doubt is part of your training. There are three 'X's' hidden throughout the room. Without looking around, I want you to point them out—”

I triggered the mechanism in my right sleeve and the sliding rail strapped to my forearm quickly released a knife into my hand, my fingers curling around the hilt. I flung the blade right, hitting the small “X” drawn onto the wall as I activated the same mechanism on my left sleeve, another knife slipping into my palm. I twisted, sighted the next “X” I’d seen etched into the third shelf on the bookcase and released, my knife soaring through the air and hitting its mark dead centre. I reached into the holder around my waist, pulling out another knife. With a flick of my wrist, I sent it hurling for the last “X” I’d spotted when I first walked into the room—the one right above Arturo’s head.

The Don of La Cosa Nostra didn’t flinch, didn’t bat an eye as my knife embedded into the wall directly above him.

Three targets. Three bullseyes. Under three seconds.

There was a beat of silence, both men staring at me in stunned surprise. Then Vincenzo spoke.

“God, IloveBratva women.” He leant forward, eagerness in his eyes. “You seeing anyone?”

“Quiet, Vin.” Arturo looked at me. “A simple, ‘There they are’ would have sufficed.”

I shrugged, a playful expression on my face. “That was more enjoyable.”

“Yes. It seems you and my wife share the same affinity for knives.”

“It’s a Bratva thing.” I cracked my neck. “Was that it? If so, I’m immensely disappointed.”

Arturo looked like he wanted to smile but refrained. “Not quite. Vin, bring him in.”

Vincenzo left, returning a moment later with another man. He had dark blonde hair and pale skin. His hands were bound in front of him, a finely pressed Italian suit clinging to his body.

Vincenzo brought him to his knees in front of me and offered me a gun, holding it out to me.

Taking the weapon, I turned it over, admiring it. “This is one of ours.”

Arturo nodded. “Good eye.”

“And you want me to, what? Kill him? Is that the test?”

“Yes.”

I eyed him suspiciously. Something was…off. Surely it wasn’t just to see if I had the balls to kill? It couldn’t be that simple. Or idiotic, for that matter.

My eyes narrowed in concentration as I studied the man on his knees before me. The memory of his face flashed through my mind. I took all the facts into account before leveling my gaze on Arturo, one hand on my hip.

“You don’treallywant me to kill him.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one thing, this gun isn’t even loaded.” I threw it onto the desk, Arturo’s eyes tracking it across the surface as it slid to a stop with the barrel pointing towards him. “And another, he’s one of your men.”

“My men?” he repeated, pointing to his chest. “How did you reach that conclusion?”