Page 9 of Trapping His Assassin

One chair in front of his desk said more than his words ever could. I sat on pins and needles.

“I want you to kill someone.”

His declaration didn’t shock me. What other purpose could he have for me, if it wasn’t my persona; Femme Fatale? It was a code name I hadn’t wanted to give myself, but I needed something. A name the men whispered about within their ranks.

“Who?” It didn’t matter who it was; I would carry out his orders perfectly. If I didn’t, Headmaster Mikhail would kill me.

His blue eyes, usually sharp and calculating, softened as they met mine. “An American bastard,” he said with a hint of amusement, “pledging loyalty to the Bratva.”

I wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t forthcoming with his information. It seemed like he struggled to breathe, as he sank back into his chair and had a coughing fit, from the anger strumming through his veins.

“Ok,” I stood, thinking the meeting was over.

“Sit down!” His voice boomed out of his chest, shocking me back into my seat.

“Don’t you want to know why?”

I shook my head. “No, Don Ricci.”

His face twisted into a fierce scowl, radiating pure malice towards me. The stories of the Don’s brutal retribution against the Russians were infamous. One of them dared to impregnate his beloved wife, a woman who was not my aunt. In a frenzied rage, he ruthlessly slaughtered her, but the man responsible managed to escape his wrath.

I would think that any Russian who stepped foot on Italian soil would be a dead Russian.

“An eye for an eye,mio figlio.”

The endearment took me so far off guard, I could feel my mouth hanging open. I narrowed my eyes. What game was this old man playing? He didn’t have to fake a fatherly bond for me to carry out his orders.

Don Ricci smirked. “If you do this, I will tell you about your mother, and let you leave the school. Bring you into the fold.”

My eyes snapped to his in surprise. He was offering me something? I considered everything I needed to bring down Headmaster Mikhail. If I had the backing of the Italian force, I could get rid of him for good.

I mentally shook that thought right back out of my head. Something like that would start a war, and the Italian mafia was already fighting on one battlefield from the Don’s vendetta. I only knew what was rumored, though. Not fact.

What had he offered me again? Oh, yeah. I have to get my head in the game. This was an important meeting. I focused on the Don.

“My mom?” I croaked. I shook my head no. “I don’t need to know about her.”

The Don’s eyes widened. He slumped back in his chair like he’d lost all his energy.

“Are you saying you don’t want to be free from school?”

I met his gaze. “Of course I do.”

Don Ricci shook his head, frowning. “Then get this done, and I will do it.”

I breathed in bravely. “But I need something else.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrows, as if shocked I would ask him for more.

“I need you to take care of someone for me, no questions asked.” I could have him kill Headmaster Mikhail. Then I would never have to worry about the girls again.

He nodded his head to me, like a king granting their subject a wish.

“I could be a big asset to the business–”

“What would a woman know about my business?” The energy shifted in the room.

I was aware that I was treading on dangerous territory, but I continued forward. Perhaps he would see the worth in my observations.

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