The King Killer | Mafia dark romance | ✔️

16. She's got moves

Antonio

"Here's her profiling files." Mateo - Gabriel's assistant handed me the files on Valentina. From the last we spoke on the subject, of Val's knowledge about blades and guns, I was plied with curiosity. Los Zetas syndicate had closely monitored anyone trained in weapons and self-defense. Val's name never came up.

Mateo stood in front of me. With a body built to tackle any carnivore, emerald eyes that could pierce even through lead, he awaited my instructions. Tossing a glance at the plastic green folder labelled Val, I nodded at him.

He moved between chairs, placing himself on the opposite side of my table and opening the folder.

Gabriel had trained Mateo to be the guard and the assistant during his absence, mostly when he travelled to take care of our business. Just like my grim reaper Alejandro, Gabriel understood his absence would leave us vulnerable. So he employed Mateo.

He spread documents on my table while running his narration. "She's trained since her childhood."

My brows bridged, "but Ramon Ramirez was crippled!"

An untimely bullet to his lower abdomen rendered him useless to fight and seek the help of a metal hip. How was it possible for him to train his daughter on self-defense techniques when he couldn't support himself?

"It's not Ramon," Mateo said, looking up. The twinkling in his eye was evidence of him having discovered something. "It was his brother, Rodrigo who trained Val."

He placed photos of the deceased man, the lethal yet kind Rodrigo Ramirez who was once in charge of the Ramirez business. I looked at the French-beard donning, smiling photo of his, standing next to Ramon and little Val. The famous cartel head who was shot and killed by men still at large - now assumed to be American agents.

Mateo slid back on the chair, sighing. "When Rodrigo died, Val's training stopped and she never registered herself as a combat expert."

Our cartel ensured all family members in possession of fighting abilities were registered with us. It was not only a means to keep a check on someone going rogue but also as a record used to employ people during fights and ally aggressions.

Knowing how Ramon had already lost his brother and his wife and had to bear the tragedy while taking care of a young daughter, I understood his action to save his daughter from being enlisted. He was protecting her.

It was also this untimely understanding towards Valentina's father that had me worried. Why was I playing lenient on her? Had it been anyone else, they would have been six feet under by now for not abiding by our rules. Nobody dared to flaunt the cartel rules.

Mateo's words played me out of my thoughts. "Gabriel says that her training is coming out well. She's quick in learning new techniques and her target precision is really good."

I looked over at the photos of her laying across my table, of a little girl barely five or six in age with a gun in her hand. It was trained at the same age, clay ready to be molded.

"Are they still at practice?" I asked. Mateo nodded and peeled off the chair reluctantly. Though he was loyal, he was lazy too.

We walked together to the basement training room. The voices from inside echoed like surround sound even before we began our walk down the hallway.

The dark hallway resembled the dungeons we used for things that needed hiding from the daylight. The old mansion bestowed from our great forefathers underwent no structural changes except for coats of newer paint. The basement and structures beneath it never made an appearance in any of the blueprints, providing a haven for our activities.