Assassin Thirty Two

Thirty Four: The Becoming of a Friendship with Death

Sometimes in life we meet people that are too good to be true. Ones that are angels that have been sent from above to drag us from the darkness surrounding us. Ivy grieved Amber's death. They weren't close, merely just work colleagues but there was something about Amber that made Ivy's job more "brighter".

Death can be a heavy thing for people to handle, the mere thought of losing someone you love leaves you in a pit of confusion. Ivy became used to the appearance of death. From a young age, since her mother left her, the hollowness people were often left with became a void in Ivy's heart. It was a black hole that sucked every fibre of her being in and left her with nothing but a body. Ivy often thought she was just a body, no soul to tell a story and when she would die, she wouldn't relive a million lives as a ghost, instead she would just be a pile of bones and flesh slowly decaying in the dirt and become a forgotten skeleton.

The night air was cold and the streets of Vegas were still partying away. Valentino was inside fast asleep but Ivy's mind was too busy replaying the night's events to even let her get a wink of sleep. The smoke from the cigarette bellowed into clouds and evaporated into the night. Orange embers burned as Ivy inhaled, the cancer stick held carelessly between her two fingers as she leaned against the railing, the midnight wind biting at her bare legs.

Ivy wasn't much of a smoker. But sometimes, when she couldn't handle her emotions, she found comfort in the presence of a cigarette. It didn't take her mind off things but it helped her from not overthinking every little aspect of her entire life. It was basically there to kill time. Suddenly the balcony door opened and Ivy didn't turn to see who interrupted her peace, the smell of his lingering cologne was enough to give it away.

Valentino stood back and watched the lonely woman stare out into the city ahead. She wore an oversized t-shirt as her pyjamas and it barely covered her ass, the black underwear peeking. Her hair was wet and in strands from the shower earlier and the cigarette smoke floated around her, creating a contrast with her silhouette.

"That's a disgusting habit." Valentino muttered, walking up to her and snatching the cigarette out of her hand. She slowly turned to him as he tapped it against the railing, the burning ash falling like snow and he threw the cigarette away.

Ivy stared back at the city, Valentino's face in the corner of her gaze. "Smoking a cigarette probably isn't the worst thing I've done, don't you think?" She mumbled, casting her eyes up at the glowing moon.

"I don't even smoke. You're just killing yourself with that shit." Valentino muttered and Ivy scoffed.

"I literally kill people, Valentino. I shot Amber tonight. I killed her even though I didn't want to."

"We all do things we regret."

Ivy twisted her body and looked up at Valentino who stared back down at her. Gently, Valentino reached out and his hand caressed her cheek, pulling her closer causing her face to crash into his chest. "I wasn't thinking, she said she was going to tell the agency that I was alive and I told her I was the one that killed Peter. And I was selfish. I pulled out the gun and didn't even hesitate in pulling the trigger. I just didn't want to end up back at that place. I didn't realise that I hated it so much." She whispered into his chest as he rubbed small circles on her lower back.

"You could've gone back. Or ran away. But you chose to stay. Why?" Valentino asked in a calm voice and Ivy tense at the question. He was right. She had the chance to go back or to escape and she stayed instead. Why did she choose Valentino over her old life?

"Because I'm a man of my word. I agreed to work for you for one year." She lied.

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