Assassin Thirty Two

Nineteen: At Your Service

It was late in the night and Valentino had locked himself in his office. The only light in the room was the small desk lamp and the screen of the laptop in front of him. He was angry and he knew that if he saw Ivy's face, he would hurt her so he chose to run through the figures of the shipments that he ordered into the country. After finding out that the Russian's were trying to fuck his shit up thanks to Rob, he demanded more men that were guarding the docks, heavily armed of course. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Valentino leaned back into his chair, his arms behind his head as he stretched, rolling his head side to side to release the tension that had built up in his neck. He was beginning to become tired but fought against it, needing to finish the few remaining details on the documents before he would call it a day and go to bed.

The air in the room was crisp and light rain pattered against the floor to ceiling windows. Even when it was raining the city lights were still glowing and yellow taxis were still zooming around. There was no noise coming from the rest of the hotel apartment and he thought that Ivy must've been in bed when his office door opened, revealing her standing in the doorway.

Her hair was dripping yet, the coat she wore drenched and a dark, muddy brown. It was obvious that she had been outside and Valentino was ready to snap when Ivy walked forward, placing what was in her hand in front of him on the desk. Valentino stared down at Peter's severed head. His skin was icy white and the note pad underneath it soaked up the crimson slime.

"Mission complete." Ivy whispered in a monotone voice, her eyes boring into Valentino's frowned ones.

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Ivy didn't sleep. She tried to close her eyes but minutes later she would only stomp out of the bedroom, frustrated that she couldn't sleep. It was a rare occasion when she would find herself wide awake, the images of the missions she's completed keeping her from sleeping. It wasn't the ghostly faces of the dead that stared at her but instead it was a dark shadow, standing in front of her, a mirror of herself. It was there to remind her how cold hearted she was. That she wasn't human because she didn't show remorse, or regret or sadness from killing her targets. The only thing she would feel was numbness. A robot obeying orders of its master. But this time it wasn't him who ordered her to kill, it was Valentino. The target that was set up only for her to fail.

It was early hours in the morning, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and forehead, damp from the shower she took. Valentino was fast asleep in the bed, lying on his stomach with his large arms buried underneath the pillow. Ivy sat at the breakfast bar, a glass of cold water in front of her as she stared at the reflection in the mirror splashback. A ghost. A person with no soul.

Night soon became day and the sun rose above the city skyline, a burst of pinks and oranges burning the apartment. But she sat on the barstool, leaning against the kitchen island. She had mostly dried and the coldness of the room didn't nip away at her anymore. She had become numb to feeling things. The sound of Valentino walking into the room didn't grab her attention, it was as if she was frozen in time, a sculpture of a beautiful monster sitting in an expensive hotel apartment trying to figure out why she was so coldhearted.

Valentino didn't disturb her thoughts, instead he walked into the kitchen, shirtless and began to make a bowl of cereal for breakfast. His hair was messy and unbrushed but he still managed to look like a Greek God even from only just waking up. Ivy finally pulled herself from the chair she had been sitting in for hours and arched her back, the bones clicking from the built up tension. She stared at Valentino as he ate his breakfast and he stared back at her.

They didn't say a word. The tension was too heavy and Ivy enjoyed the silence. Grabbing a bowl, she poured herself some cereal and began to eat it. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Ivy looked at Valentino who dropped the spoon and stalked towards the door, a gun firmly in his hand just in case. He sighed in relief when Joseph casually walked in.