Assassin Thirty Two

Thirty Two: A Work Holiday

The woman sitting in front of them bawled her eyes out, the tears caused her cheeks to burn a bright red. Ivy sat in the chair, leaning back as Valentino interrogated her as she was quickly getting frustrated with the woman's cries. Turns out she was a stripper that the Russin's made work for them undercover, in Valentino's club to try and gather information about his business. Valentino was getting sick and tired of rats in his business. First the FBI Agent, then the waitress that was Franco's spy and now her. The place she was living in wasn't anything flash, her belongings still in boxes as if she had just moved in. Or she was preparing to leave.

"I-I'm s-sorry. P-Please don't kill me." She cried and Ivy rolled her eyes, frustrated with the annoying pleads. Valentino chuckled, turning his back on her and winking at Ivy who grinned sadistically.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't kill you but she will." Valentino laughed evilly as he handed Ivy the gun and she stood up, walking up to the woman and pushing the gun against her forehead. The woman sobbed and Ivy took off the safety causing the girl to flinch.

"P-Please! Please let me live!" Ivy rolled her eyes and hit the gun over her head before she pulled the trigger, the bullet emerging right between her eyes and erupting out the back of her skull. Blood splattering against the wall behind her. Her lifeless body fell to the floor face forward and Ivy wiped the gun clean with the cloth in her pocket before she handed it back to Valentino.

"Well done, Princess." He smirked, roughly kissing her over the dead body. As they left the apartment, Valentino rang someone to come and get rid of the body as well as any evidence of their existence before they were outside and climbing into the car. The vehicle zoomed off, weaving in and out of traffic as Ivy watched the city escape from her view.

"Fucking Russians. Pain in my ass, they just love to start shit with me and think I won't retaliate." Valentino muttered to himself with a grimace of annoyance.

"You're hot when you speak business and are angry." Ivy commented out of the blue and Valentino snapped his head to her. His hand squeezed her thigh and he leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear.

"Is that so? Yeah, well you look hot when you're on your knees for me. Drives me fucking crazy." He grunted in her ear, his fingers sneakily trailing to the inner of her thigh. He placed a sloppy kiss on her neck and she tilted her head to the side, letting him have more access.

"I drive you crazy? I think you're falling for me Mr. Black." She chuckled and Valentino suddenly pulled away, looking coldly into her eyes.

"I don't do love, sweetheart. Ain't got time for that shit."

"Yeah, me too. That's why I still hate you." She muttered, opening her eyes and washing out any emotion she showed.

Valentino raised his eyebrows; amused. "You hate me?"

"I'm still capable of killing you, Valentino. We're enemies yet you've pulled me in closer than you would want. You're drowning in the thought of me." She mumbled, turning away from him and watching the rain pour down against the car window, the grey clouds above crying long streams of tears.

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The words Ivy had said to Valentino earlier were lingering in his mind and he slammed his fist against the punching bag. The chain holding it up rattled and cracked as the bag swayed back and forth, taking hit after hit before Valentino couldn't see it but a blur of rage.

He wasn't angry at her. Well he was, but that's because deep down, he knew that she was right. She was wriggling under his skin and affecting every part of his body. The control she had over him was terrifying. Normally people who rebelled against his orders or chose to give him cheek would find them at the end of his gun, their pleading eyes looking down the barrel of the gun before he would pull the trigger mercilessly.