Page 2 of Trapping His Assassin

They snuck down a dimly lit hallway into a room. I stood in the shadows, staring at her from the small screen of my phone. They hadn’t closed the door behind them, and anyone could see in, as if enticing me to stay and watch. Good thing I was watching through the screen, so I couldn’t get caught.

She locked eyes with him, her coy grin inviting him closer. As he fumbled with his belt buckle, I watched her drop the coy act, and suddenly become professional. With precision and grace, she quickly dispatched her target, disappearing into the darkness. My heart pounded in my chest, as her actions triggered memories of my own haunting past, the scars still visible on my skin. I imagined that, on my small phone screen, I could see in her eyes the same torment that plagued me, every time I caught my reflection in the mirror.

I followed her on the screen, but she was too quick for me; I blinked and couldn’t find her, but I kept trying.

I scanned the crowd, my eyes darting from one mourner to another in search of her. She disappeared into the sea of people after carrying out her deadly deed. I couldn’t help but be both shocked and fascinated by her lethal capabilities. My mind was consumed with her, as I desperately searched for her. She had unknowingly left a mark on my soul, and I couldn’t shake this newfound obsession I had for her.

Annoyed that I’d lost sight of her, I headed back toward my family, seeking out Alexie. However, my mind was still on this woman. Would I one day be like her? An emotionless, merciless killer?

Before I could dwell on the gravity of her actions, chaos erupted. A deafening explosion rocked the hall, sending shockwaves through the mourners. Panic seized the room as smoke billowed, obscuring my vision. The mournful wails of the crowd merged with the distant echoes of the blast.

Through the haze, I caught sight of Roger, the late Pakhan’s second-in-command, falling to the ground, a lifeless puppet severed from its strings. The room descended into chaos, the once solemn atmosphere shattered by the violence that unfolded.

I remained frozen in the aftermath, my young eyes wide with a mix of horror and realization. The funeral became a battleground, and the shadows that lurked within the Petrov family unleashed their wrath. The woman, a silent harbinger of death, had orchestrated a deadly symphony, leaving destruction in her wake.

But that’s not the way the leaders viewed it. They demanded retribution, screaming that the Italians were at fault. In order to keep the line of succession intact, we separated as soon as we made it out of the chaos.

Alexie, panicked, said that we couldn’t all go back home. If they managed to take us all out, the Bratva would descend into madness, as the power vacuum left a void in Russia.

I needed to help smooth the ruffled feathers that Alexie unsettled as soon as the dust cleared.

As the plane lifted into the air, I couldn’t help but think about my uncertain future. Here I was, heading back into the harsh reality of the world I was born into, where death was an ever-present threat, and the carefree days of infanthood seemed like a distant dream. The silent screams within me echoed louder than ever, a symphony of pain that refused to fade away.

The Italian attack was swift and fierce, forcing a war that took years to stop. Their Don attacked every Russian outfit, stealing our money, jewels, and weapons. Some turned to other avenues to make money. The skin trade took off until a ceasefire was called. Unfortunately, once those kinds of businesses were let in, eradicating them was futile.

Still, I wanted to know more about the woman I’d watched. She caught my attention. Little did I know that our paths would cross again, though not as soon as I wanted. The secrets she held would have far-reaching consequences for the Bratva’s future.

CHAPTER ONE

Roman

Ten Years Later

United States

Fucking Alexie,I thought to myself.

As the meeting dragged on, with Alexie in his office, and Viktor on the phone with us, I couldn’t help but scrutinize the latest photograph of Don Ricci. Remarkably, he had made an unexpected recovery recently. The medical professionals were at a loss to explain what had roused him from his comatose state. Deep furrows lined his forehead, and his once precise and defined features now appeared slack, and etched with weariness. I observed that he was endeavoring to maintain his composure as the head of the table, but it was obvious that he was no longer the formidable leader he once was.

“Are you listening to me?” Alexie asked.

I refrained from rolling my eyes, and opted for a nod instead. Pain surged through my throat, but I disregarded it. Ignoring Alexie simply wasn’t an option he would permit.

Viktor’s voice crackled over the phone. “I need you to go to Italy. Rumor has it that the Don has woken up, and would like to rekindle a war that has long passed.”

“We could send someone to infiltrate them–”

Viktor cut Alexie off before I could, his jaw ticked in irritation.

“No. The only reason there is a truce now is to prevent more bloodshed. If we don’t send someone of high rank to make sure the peace stands, they will announce another act of war, and we will lose on both ends.” Viktor’s powerful voice boomed across the meeting room.

All the men stood at attention, and I frowned, wishing Alexie wielded that much influence. However, he hadn’t been the same since Sloane entered his life. Their struggles to have another child had nearly driven him to the brink of insanity.

I pounded my fist against my chest, catching Alexie’s eye.

“You want to go?” he asked.

I nodded.

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