Page 26 of The Pretty Savage

The alcohol was barely noticeable with the taste of cranberry exploding in my mouth, and I was thankful she pushed me to take this.

There were not many situations where I got to relax and enjoy myself, and allowing myself this one moment where I could do something like that reminded me why I was doing this. Why I accepted the mission when I could've said no, or at least, I could've disappeared.

The art of hiding in the shadows wasn't something everyone got to master, which was why Heinrich desperately clung to me all these years when I showed I could do it better than most.

"Cheers!" Yolanda laughed, shaking her head at me and taking a sip of her drink.

"What is that?" I asked, pointing at the pink concoction in her hand. "It looks like fucking poison."

"It's a French martini," she giggled, licking her lips. "Wanna try it?"

"Oh no, thank you." I stepped back. “I prefer this.” I lifted my glass.

"But this is tasty." She frowned, taking another sip. "You really should try it."

"Oh, no, thank you." I was a creature of habit. While I liked trying some new things, I mostly stayed in my own little lane, where I was perfectly safe, and I wasn't risking food poisoning and stomach pain. Besides, safe was good. It kept me alive all these years, and I would rather be called boring than six feet under the ground because I decided to be reckless once in my life.

"Suit yourself." Yolanda shrugged, focusing on the growing crowd in front of us, her eyebrows pinched at the sight of everyone gathered. "There are so many people," she almost whispered, and the only reason I was able to hear her was because she kept leaning toward me, talking directly to my ear. "I swear I didn't know we have this many people at the Academy."

"Not all of them are from the Academy," a feminine voice spoke from our right, and both of us turned to see a stunning brunette leaning against the bar with a bored look on her face. Unlike us, she had no mask to hide her true identity and I couldn't recognize her from any of the photos I had seen so far. "Sorry." She grinned, showing a line of perfectly white teeth. "I couldn't help but overhear. I'm Gabriela," she said, pressing the palm of her hand to her chest.

The black dress she wore hugged her curves, with a dipping neckline revealing a snake tattoo on her sternum that said everything I needed to know.

There was only one family that used that snake as an emblem and none of them were attending the Academy—at least not officially.

"It is nice to meet you," Yolanda chirped, sidestepping me and getting closer to Gabriela. "I'm Yolanda. Yolanda Engström. And this is?—"

"Vega." I threw in a little wave at her, but I already knew that I needed to be wary.

Gabriela Barone.

The Black Widow.

A twenty-three-year-old assassin from the Barone family. She was a mafia princess, guarded by at least three men at all times, as if she needed them at all. Her father, Domenico Barone, was a legend in our circles, and while I rarely had to deal with the Italian mafia, I knew who she was.

Hell, everyone knew who she was.

She single-handedly took down the Greco family in the south of Italy, after they dared to attack the funeral of her late father. I had no idea what she was doing here, but there was no way someone like her would need to attend the Academy. And there was also no way that her being here was just a casual social call.

No, Gabriela Barone never did anything by accident, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't admire the woman that managed to fight against all those chauvinistic prejudices against women in this business and ascend to the throne that was rightfully hers.

"Are you attending the Academy as well?" my poor, innocent Yolanda asked, chatting with Gabriela as if they were old friends.

Dark eyes landed on me, narrowing slightly when she saw that I was already looking, before she smiled at Yolanda. "No," Gabriela answered. "I was summoned," she said bitterly, returning her focus to the crowd in front of us. "But I'm not gonna lie," she chuckled, straightening up, "I'm glad I'm here." She looked at me again, taking a step closer. "I have a feeling that tonight is going to be fun."

There was a deeper meaning to her words, but I didn't know enough about The Brotherhood and The Pit to dissect all she said and try to figure it out.

"I honestly don't know what's going to happen tonight," Yolanda said. "But I'm excited to see it all."

"You'll see." Gabriela chuckled, lifting a champagne glass to her lips. Her long, manicured nails caught my attention and I wondered how she managed to keep them so long, considering what she did.

Many underestimated her for being a woman, but Gabriela wasn't someone you wanted to fuck around with. She didn't need her bodyguards to protect her or to do her job. She was more than capable of bringing grown-ass men to their knees, and woman or not, she was fucking good at what she did.

Which was why many wished to see her fall. They wanted to see her on her knees, but something told me that wasn't going to happen.

The music suddenly stopped, letting the room fill with the murmurs of the crowd, their voices becoming louder and louder until one of the men that had stood with the stranger earlier entered the ring, his mask in the old Venetian style, his lips set in a permanent grin as he looked over us as if we were peasants waiting for his instructions.

And maybe we were, but one glance to Gabriela at my side told me she knew him. Her face was set in stone, her eyes firmly plastered to the man in the ring, but there was no softness directed toward him. If anything, her features were filled with so much hatred that I could almost taste it on my tongue.

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