Page 64 of Trapping His Assassin

I shook my head, a mixture of frustration and guilt bubbling up inside me. “It’s not that simple, Benedikt. I can’t leave. He needs me.”

“We can take down The Academy ourselves, but what about what you need?” he demanded, his voice breaking slightly. “Did you ever think about yourself?”

It never occurred to me to think about myself until now. No one has ever asked, and I never took the time to reflect. I simply carried out my orders without question, until I was given a reason to do otherwise.

I lifted my gaze to meet his, feeling tears welling up. “You know I love him, right? I’m sorry you got hurt, but I can’t leave Roman behind. I won’t.”

“Then you’re going to get yourself killed. You are family,” he said bluntly, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a guillotine. “And I can’t watch that happen.”

Wasn’t like he would be able to see all of it anyway. I opened my mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. He was right. I was in over my head, but I couldn’t turn back now. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice small and broken.

If Headmaster Mikhail discovered I had attempted to murder him, he would seek retaliation. It was inevitable.

His calloused hand rested on my trembling shoulder, a stark contrast to the gentleness in his voice. “Get out of here, Valentina,” he whispered urgently.

My eyes flicked to the computer screen, where a news article displayed photos of missing women. I could feel the weight of his concern and knew deep down that he was right – it was time for me to leave, before I became another one of those lost souls. Tears streamed down my face, as I decided to finally put myself first, and escape this dangerous situation.

Did he mean…?

I scrutinized him closely, taking in his expression, and discerned the fear and worry etched into his features. He was scared for me. A man I’d hardly spent any time with. I didn’t know him that well. So if he was afraid, then I needed to fix my attitude.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

“I’ll try,” I said finally, lying to his face without remorse. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” he replied, his shoulders sagging with relief. “... try. For me. Sem'ya navsegda. ” He sank back into the pillows.

I nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Will do.”

I hesitatedfor a moment before dialing the number, my finger hovering over the screen, as I wrestled with the weight of what I was about to do. But there was no turning back now. I needed Don Mateo’s help, no matter the cost.

The phone rang, each tone echoing loudly in the quiet of my room. My heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of the ringing. Finally, there was a click, and then his smooth, authoritative voice filled my ear.

“Valentina,” he greeted, the familiarity in his tone sending a shiver down my spine. “What can I do for you, cara mia?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to ask. “Don Mateo, I need your help. I need to leave the United States, and I need to do it without the Bratva knowing.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a pregnant silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Then Don Mateo chuckled softly. “Ah, Valentina, always getting yourself into trouble, hmm? But, of course, I will help you. You know I cannot resist a damsel in distress.”

Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived as Don Mateo continued, his tone turning serious. “But why do you need to leave? What trouble have you found yourself in this time?”

I swallowed hard, knowing that I couldn’t tell him the whole truth. Not yet. “It’s complicated, Don Mateo. But I need to reach a certain destination without interference. And I can’t let Roman or the Bratva stop me.”

There was another pause, longer this time, as Don Mateo considered my words. Finally, he sighed. “Very well, Valentina. I will make the arrangements. But remember, nothing comes for free. You owe me a favor, and I will collect.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Thank you, Don Mateo. I won’t forget this.”

With that, we said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone, a sense of both relief and dread washing over me.

I was one step closer to my goal, yet I understood that the most challenging part lay ahead of me.

A few days later, I stood at the agreed-upon location, my heart racing with anticipation and nervousness. Don Mateo had been true to his word, and now I found myself waiting in the darkness for my ticket out of this mess.

Suddenly, the sound of an approaching engine broke through the silence, and I tensed, readying myself for whatever was to come. A sleek black car pulled up beside me, the tinted windows hiding its occupants from view.

The driver’s side window rolled down, revealing Don Mateo sitting behind the wheel, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Valentina,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, trying to mask the fear that threatened to overwhelm me. “Yes, Don Mateo. I’m ready.”

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