If you're here for some cute story, fuck off. This is the story of my life and it's not going to be pretty. I'm going to get into all the gory details of my assassin training up to this point.
I was sold to the Russian Mafia when I was twelve. I can't blame my mother for wanting to provide for my three younger siblings. Still, it wasn't the best move for a parent to make.
The Russians paid good money for me so they could train me to be an assassin. It's not all bad, sometimes I get to kill sick motherfuckers who deserve it. Other times, it's hard to pull the trigger. The hardest was a wife and child of a traitor.
That kill was when I was sixteen. Now at twenty-three I don't have any emotions. It's much better that way. I know I'll never escape, so the next best thing is to escape from my mind.
I've been trained in absolutely everything. I'm talking knives, guns, hand to hand combat, seduction, and bedroom activities. I'm actually the best at all of them in my class except hand to hand combat. That's not my fault though that John is 6' 4", and beefy. He towers over my 5' 6" stature.
I can kick the ass of most of the six footers. John is just a god damn mountain of a man. Of course it pisses him off to no end that I beat him in everything else.
He's probably the closest thing I have to a friend amongst the six of us that trained together. Every five years the Russians pick six "acolytes" to raise and train. Three girls and three guys.
"May," John said while snapping his fingers in front of my face.
"Do you seriously have to zone out every time I talk to you?" he whined.
"Oh fuck off John. It's not like you listen to me either," I snapped
"Yeah, whatever," he grumbled out.
"Plus, you know we're getting a new assignment today," I reminded him.
"Yeah yeah I know," he said while biting his nails. It was his nervous habit and tell.
I sighed before reaching over and pulling his hand away from his mouth.
"It's going to be okay, we've been trained for anything and everything. You've got this," I said while giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
I heard the door open. John and I both snapped up and stood in our "submissive" stance. That was our legs hip width apart, head bowed, and hands clasped behind our backs.
"Alright you two, are you ready to go?" Asked Dimitri.
Dimitri was the son of the current Russian don, Adrik. The new assignment was to bring John and I to the Italian don as a "gift". Their don was to choose one of the two of us to keep. The other one of us would return and continue with other assignments. I can't imagine the Italian don would be stupid enough to let an assassin/spy into his home without an ulterior motive. There's no way he's the leader of the most successful mafia if he's that stupid.
Of course our real assignment is to keep an eye on him, and report all of his moves to Adrik. Dimitri ushered us out of the room the six of us assassins live in. It's a danky concrete room in the basement with three bunk beds pushed against three walls. The remaining wall had three shower heads and three toilets with no sort of cover for us.
John and I followed Dimitri out of the mansion and into the black SUV waiting for us. We hopped in with all our belongings; which consisted of our phones, two sets of clothes, one set of pajamas, a bar of soap, deodorant, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. All of which fit into my worn out black back back I got when I was twelve.
I would've been more comfortable if I could place some of my beloved guns and knives in there, too. However, Dimitri said we had to leave them behind to show "good faith".
"Okay, so the Italian Dons name is Enzo Esponito. Don't forget to showcase our training well. You will remember your allegiance and all we have done for you and your families the past eleven years. Is that understood," Dimitri questioned.
John and I resounded with a firm, "yes, sir".
"Good, prepare for a big change in one of your lives," Dimitri answered.
John and I glanced at each other. I could see the sadness in his eyes. A sadness, I told myself I didn't feel, about us being separated. All the gruesome horrible things we've done didn't seem so bad when we got to come home to each other at the end of the day.
We reached out at the same time and laced our fingers together while sitting back and getting ready for the journey ahead.
YOU ARE READING
The Assassins Weakness
RomanceMay was sold to the Russian mafia at twelve years old. Now at twenty-three she has her most intense assignment yet. She has to live with the Italian mob and report all of their movements. What will happen when the dark and brooding Italian don shows...
