“I don’t plan on it,” I say as I step around them. I sigh as I finally walk away from them and toward the exit. The last thing I feel like doing is defending my position here, but not everyone is happy about me even being here. Clearly.
As I make my way up ground, I adjust the collar of my shirt and prepare myself for putting on the mask of my alter ego.
“Tonight, must go perfectly,” Stephan Bianchi tells me and the others that stand in his office. I’m standing in front of his desk with my hands behind my back, dressed up in my best suit and tie, prepared to pretend to help them wage a war that I’m secretly on the other side of.
Petra stands at my right, and Raff at my left. The two assassins who are expected to take out Carmine tonight. I’ve managed to convince Stephan that I should be there as well, as a distraction and another gun. To them, I’m a ruthless killer who knows no bounds. If they were smart, they’d have seen through this by now, but they’re not. Not nearly as much as they think they are.
“I don’t want a single person who sees what happens to come out of there alive,” Don Stephan Bianchi says. “If they even so much as hear a peep from Carmine while he’s being detained, take them out. We can’t risk witnesses or some bystanders trying to stop the damn mission.”
“Yes, Sir,” I agree, just shortly after the other two do.
“There shouldn’t be any problems, but if you get the feeling that they’re onto us and you can’t get the job done…pull out,” he orders. “I don’t want any one of you deciding to be the hero and dragging Carmine Dresvanni out of there while the entire gala is looking. That includes you, Trevor. Do you understand me? No showing off.”
My jaw tightens and I look to the side as though I’m annoyed at his order. Of course, I don’t give a fuck about it. It’s not going to come down to any of this. The Dresvanni know what their plans are, and by the end of the night, the majority of this little crew going to the charity ball, gala, whatever the fuck you want to call it, will be dead.
“Got it.” I look him in the eyes and place my hand on my gun for a moment. “I will do what it takes otherwise.”
“I know you will, but we have to be smart about this, we can’t go in guns blazing at a public event like this. I have a reputation to uphold,” Stephan insists.
If I wasn’t trying to maintain my composure and appear completely serious about all of this, I may have snorted in response.
The reputation Stephan Bianchi thinks he has to uphold isn’t long for this world…and neither is he.
“We’ll get things done right, boss,” Raff promises him.
Petra nods in response, her face stiff and serious. She’s the one who wants to do this the most out of everyone. I know that just by the way she holds herself, and the way she’s been talking about this for weeks. She wants to be on the front line of themission, and if she isn’t the one who wraps him up in a pretty pink bow for Stephan, she’ll envy the one who does.
Too bad for her there won’t be a gift to give.
“Get out of here before I change my mind on this whole thing,” Stephan waves us away. “Kidnapping…twenty years ago I would have simply set a meeting with him and killed him right then and there.” He shakes his head.
I can’t help but ask. “Why don’t you?”
He glances up at me from his desk, as if I’ve dared to do such a thing.
“Things are different now, boy,” he hisses at me. “In order to get what I want, we need to make them sweat. Not just take them out.”
I simply nod my head at him before turning around and following Petra who was already leaving the room. I watch as she adjusts her purple and blue gown, not because I’m interested in the body underneath. No. Because I’m interested in the weapons she’s hidden under the billowing layers of soft fabric.
As we walk down the hallway and toward the front entrance, I decide that she probably has two weapons on her. One gun holstered to her thigh, and a blade, probably a dagger, somewhere on her person. Perhaps stowed away in a special pocket of her cleavage or in a hidden pocket of her skirt.
Either way, I know she has something; we all do.
Given that she is going to be the hardest for me to take out, I need to know more specifically before we arrive. So, I make it my mission to ask her as we’re getting into the black car, her and I in the back, and Raff in the passenger seat beside the driver.
“What pieces do we have on?” I ask the both of them. “We should know how we’re all equipped.”
Petra eyes me suspiciously but then clicks her tongue and answers. “My gun, my switch blade, and a throwing star. She reaches into her clutch and pulls the throwing star out.
I smirk at her. “Now that’s my kinda woman,” I tease her, my voice deep and rumbling.
Her face flushes lightly but she rolls her eyes and looks to Raff who has a modest look of jealousy crossing his features.
“Gun. That’s all I need to get the job done,” he says. “Threaten with a gun, kill with a gun, either way.”
I nod my head slowly. “Fair enough,” I reply and keep myself quiet for the remainder of the drive. The charity gala is an hour outside of Tessari, and we arrive fashionably late, of course. The Bianchis are never be expected to arrive somewhere on time. Besides, they figure if they show up when the crowd has already started to form outside and inside, they’ll be less noticeable.
Franky, I don’t think it fucking matters. The Dresvanni already know they’re going to be there, not just because of me, but because it makes sense for them to be there. They won’t be the only ones. Anyone who is anyone in Italy will be there. Celebrities and Crime Lords alike.
