Page 15 of Trapping His Assassin

I shook off my thoughts and prepared for the killing ahead. I got into position, and waited for him to come to the primary bedroom. It didn’t take long.

He walked into the room and took off all his clothes.

“Fuck me,” I whispered.

As I peered through my sniper scope, I focused on the man standing across the street. His muscular body was covered in intricate tattoos, each one telling a story. With my enhanced vision, I could see every detail of his artwork, and it left me mesmerized.

“It’s a damn shame to rid the Earth of that,” I muttered as his cock hung there in open, teasing me.

My teeth sunk into my lower lip, drawing blood. Even though I knew Roman needed to be eliminated for the greater good, I couldn’t deny his attractiveness. Shaking off my conflicted thoughts, I peered through the scope of my rifle, and saw him closing the bathroom door.

“Shit.” I stomped away from my rifle. I’d missed the perfect window. I needed to figure out my shit, so I could carry out my mission. So much was riding on this. I could feel my breathing pick up as my chest grew tight.

Not here. Not now.

I stretched and shook out all my limbs, trying to calm down. Time passed, and I waited, feeling like a predator in the shadows. As the bathroom door swung open, I made my waytowards my scope. Leaning in closer, I couldn’t help but watch, as he covered up his impressive manhood with a pair of boxers.

I observed as he drank straight from the bottle, thinking it was mighty bold of him to do so. Wasn’t he concerned about poison? He hadn’t followed the legendary Tiffany Petrov, and her antics in Russia all those years ago. I was trying to calm my nerves, babbling internally to myself. He walked out onto the veranda. An even better position. He tilted the bottle up to his mouth. I had to do this.

Breathe. Fucking breathe, Valentina.

I extended my index finger, feeling the weight of the gun in my palm. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I aimed at Roman, who was calmly standing on the balcony. His hand reached for his bottle and lifted it to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip of vodka. It was as if he had been thirsting for an eternity, but his composed demeanor never faltered. I held my breath, waiting for the perfect moment to pull the trigger.

I seized my opportunity, my movements fluid and precise. I exhaled slowly, aligning with his head. The world fell away, leaving me with Roman trapped in my sights.

In a single, decisive motion, I pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the night like a clap of thunder, piercing the silence. The bullet streaked across the distance and met its mark. The clouds moved over the moon so I couldn’t see, but he staggered back into the primary bedroom and fell over.

I’d done it. He was gone. I let my shaky breath out and smothered a sob. I didn’t know why I was feeling like this. My anxiety raced more as my breathing sped up. I wanted to let out a wail, but I couldn’t. Was I… mourning? Regretting his death, particularly at my hands?

Scrambling, I grabbed my things so I could get the hell out of dodge. I didn’t pay attention to the tears streaming down mycheeks. I was a warrior, and I would not let these misguided feelings break me.

So even though it felt like I left my heart bleeding in Castle Fuego, I walked away, wearing my black burglar outfit, and carrying my black bags. Whoever Roman Petrov was, the world would miss his brilliant mind.

I never experienced anything after a kill. Usually, my heart was so hardened that I could walk away with a job well done.

I called Mateo. “It’s done.” I hung up the phone and texted the cleaners, my heart still working in overtime. I couldn’t breathe, but I had to push through this. I shook off the weird feeling in my chest where my heart was, and moved on, covering my tracks along the way.

CHAPTER FIVE

Valentina

I reported straight to Don Ricci’s office, my head held high, as I anticipated gaining everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d ever dreamed of right now. I took one step inside and my senses went on high alert. I grabbed the hilt of my knife when a click sounded at the back of my head.

A gun pressed hard into my skull.

“Don’t move,” one of the soldiers commanded.

I hesitated, weighing my options. I could take most of the men out here, but I wasn’t the best in combat. Especially hand-to-hand. My training focused more on the art of seduction, and how to kill a man from a distance, or with poisons. I hadn’t wanted to act in the Don’s home without knowing the circumstances. It’d been a while since I’d engaged in offensive tactics, choosing to subdue my victims before they saw me coming.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Don Ricci slowly got to his feet. Mateo handed him a cane that he leaned over, as he made his way toward me. Mateo followed silently behind him. I didn’t move a muscle as the rage burned in the Don’s eyes.

This wasn’t the friendly uncle I’d met when I negotiated my freedom. This was the leader of the Italian mafia. He may not be in full form, but he could still hurt me.

And he did.

He swung his cane up and brought it down on my face. Pain exploded from my cheek where it hit. “FAILURE!” His voice boomed before he had a coughing fit.

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