Chapter2.
1176 Words
Alessio's POV.
My mind is racing, but I have no time to be still and think. Not only because someone just tried to kill me and there might be more of them on their way, but because someone saw me killing someone else.
Sure, I can tell the cops that I was only defending myself and that it isn't murder, but what cop would believe me in this town? The NYPD has been jonesing for my arrest ever since I turned 18 and took over the family business from Uncle Goodie. I don't need to be giving them a reason to slap the cuffs on me.
I also can't rely on this person, whoever they might be, to actually tell the cops the truth. For all I know, they could be part of the plan. A convenient eyewitness, placed at the scene of the crime, making sure I spend the rest of my life in prison just in case the Hitman failed. Knowing my enemies the way I do, it wouldn't surprise me at all.
The door leading into the building from the alley is locked, but it's an old door that has perished over time, so I simply kick it in. A sharp pain shoots through my shoulder and I realize that I still have the Hitman's blade in me. I take a deep breath, pull the blade out and drop it on the floor. The wound is deep, and it hurts like a madre, but I'll survive it. I'm not sure where they got this Hitman, but they should definitely ask for a refund. I would.
I find a staircase to my left. I climb the metal stairs two at a time and reach the second floor within a couple of seconds. There are only two doors on the landing. One to my left and one to my right. The doors on the inside are just as worn as the doors on the outside. A faint light glows beneath the door to my right. I manage to kick it in just as easily.
The room is only lit by a singular floor lamp. My eyes are drawn to a figure standing in front of the window. I am surprised by what I find. The figure of a woman. A very small and very petite woman. I can only just make out the curves of her body in the subdued light.
She stares at me. She remains frozen on the spot. She's holding something in her hands. It looks like her phone. I manage to close the distance between us fairly quickly, but not fast enough to stop her from making a call. She holds the phone to her ear. I grab it out of her hand and check it to see who she called, hoping that I might see the name of the person who ordered a hit on my life. Instead, I see a green bar with the numbers 911 inside it. I can already hear someone talking on the other end.
"Merda!" I swear under my breath as I hold her wrist between my fingers. Why did she call the police and not her employer?
"Who are you?!" I spit the words at her. "Who do you work for?!"
She stares at me with big brown eyes. She doesn't look scared at all. Instead, she looks defiant.
"What are you talking about?" The soft tone of her voice surprises me. I raise both my eyebrows at her.
"Why are you here?!"
"I work here. This is my studio."
I take a step back and look around the room. It's scattered with paintings and painting supplies. I avert my eyes to the woman standing in front of me and notice that she is wearing work overalls covered in paint. I also notice that she is extremely beautiful. She reminds me of one of the porcelain dolls that my mother used to collect.
"What are you doing here?" Her question catches me off guard, but not as much as the confidence with which she asks it. I'm not used to people talking to me like this. I would have killed others for less, but for some reason I find it refreshing in her.
"You saw me." I respond with a deep frown between my brows.
"I did." Her expression remains vacant. Her eyes don't waver from mine.
I should kill her. I should eliminate the threat and get it over with. But I can't. Something inside me won't let me. She has a fighting spirit. I can see it in her eyes. She intrigues me. I want to know her.
"What's your name?"
"Why do you want to know?"
I smirk at her. I make the decision right there on the spot. I can't help myself. "You're coming with me, Guerriera." I turn to walk away, but she doesn't move. She pulls her wrist out of my grip and folds her arms over her chest. She's driving me crazy, but I like it.
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
I sigh heavily. I don't have time for this, no matter how much I enjoy her spirit. The cops are probably already on their way. I can't kill this woman, but I can't just leave her here either. I don't want to.
"I can keep you safe."
"Safe from what?"
"Everyone that will inevitably try to use what you saw tonight against me. Someone will come for you. I can promise you that."
"I can take care of myself." She lifts her chin as she says it.
I can feel the corners of my mouth curving into a slight smile. I really like this woman. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second, Guerriera, but you have no idea what the people in my world are capable of." "You have no idea what they will do to get at me."
I can see her hesitating for a second. "I'll go to the cops then."
"You truly believe that the cops will protect you? You don't think that there are corrupt cops in New York City that will gladly hand you over on a silver platter?"
She only stares at me, but I can see that she's considering my words. I begin to hear the police sirens as they approach. I need to get out of here right now.
I sigh again and run my fingers through my thick black hair. I take a step towards her. "I'll keep you safe. I promise. We just need to get out of here immediately."
She hesitates again. We stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds. I could easily get lost in them, if I allowed myself to. The growing sound of the sirens breaks the moment of tension between us. "Please, Guerriera?" I implore.
She looks a little stunned. Then she takes a deep breath and nods. She takes my hand in hers. Her skin is soft and warm. She leads me out of the front of the building just as the police round the corner.
- Writer
