The Don's Assassin

Chapter 3 ~ Hers to kill

~Alina~

Alina's hands moved, mindlessly folding the white linen napkin. She stared down at the silver tray she was made to carry as her new role.

The weight of the tray was definitely nothing compared to the short black and white collared uniform that felt as heavy as a thousand tons on her.

She was pretending to be someone she wasn't. The instructions were simple. Be invisible, don't raise suspicion and definitely don't get caught. The last part was no brainer, as she sure as hell won't leave this place alive if she got caught.

Her mind slipped to Lukan. They had a short interaction on their journey here. She tried to avoid him as much as possible but he was just as stubborn.

“Still good at disappearing I see.” Lukan had said after managing to hold her down.

“Still good at running away when things get hard?” She spat at him. His eyes returned to his hooded state and he let her be. Since then, they haven't spoken to each other.

Lukan and Alina's history as lovers was a short-lived bliss. He had been away for a “mission” no one knows about ever since their night together. He knew he was her first, and how hard it was to trust anyone. Yet he went ahead and broke her heart.

“Hey… you're new here too, right?”

Alina blinked, turning slightly towards the voice after being yanked from her train of thoughts.

The girl beside her looked younger, maybe nineteen or twenty, with flushed cheeks, two short brown ponytails and a tight grip on her own tray. Her eyes darted like a trapped bird's everywhere.

“Yeah,” Alina responded with a small smile.

The girl gave a shaky smile of hers. “I'm Mira. First day and I'm already sweating so much from anxiety.”

She tried to laugh but it came out strained. “Have you seen him yet? The Don?”

Alina shook her head. “I'm Alina, and no. I haven't seen him. But I suggest you don't call him that out loud.”

Mira's eyes widened as her lips automatically clamped shut in a thin line. “Right right. Sorry. I just— everyone's vibe is so uptight here, it's almost suffocating.”

Before Alina could respond to her, a sharp voice cut through. “Is this what we hired you for? Talking?”

Both girls turned to the door where a woman in all black and an insanely tight ponytail approached them. But seriously, that ponytail was disturbingly tight.

“This isn't some social club meeting or—or gathering.” She snapped, waving one hand frantically at both girls. “You work, you don't talk. You serve when told to and move when ordered! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma'am.” Mira stammered and Alina responded cooly.

The head maid narrowed her eyes at Alina. “You.” She pointed. “You're too calm. I detest calm girls, they bring nothing but mischief.”

“So how do you want me to act? Bellow at your feets? Or shake like a drenched cat?” Alina grumbled bitterly, mentally of course, not liking her situation a single bit.

Alina matched her gaze unfazed. “I'm not here to cause trouble ma'am. I'll do exactly what you need me to do.”

“Good. Then take those trays to the living room.” She gestured to two trays of scotch and some glasses. “The master has guests. Serve and keep your mouths shut.”

They responded with the woman stalking off to dish out more orders to the other household servants.

Mira let out a slow breath once she was gone. “Does she always look like she wants to murder someone?” She snickered softly.

“Probably does.” Alina replied with the faintest shrug.

Together they moved to the living room. The hall opened onto a wide luxurious space shimmering with gold decorations and bright lights. The place was like a new heaven filled with hushed voices.

Her footsteps slowed as she entered deeper into the room. There he was — Antonio Alverez.

He sat on an arm chair across another man, his posture relaxed but his light blue eyes sharp and calculative. Even from a distance, Alina could sense the aura of authority he carried.

Her eyes trailed the tattoo sleeve on his forearm that disappeared under the folded sleeves of his white and blue striped shirt. His dark brown shoulder length hair was tied halfway and a hat sat on top of his head. It was a mexican style of dressing and he looked effortlessly charming in it. Antonio's looks were dangerously alluring that even the pictures Alina had studied of him couldn't do justice. That scar… god that intriguing scar that stretched from the top of his left lip down to his jaw only added to his charm in a strange unsettling way.

The man sitting opposite him was leaner with a black fade haircut, ink creeping up his neck and knuckles. Kenji Sato — the Japanese yakuza leader that based in the heart of the country —Tokyo city. Alina recognized the sly man instantly.

“Who's that with the Don?” Mira whispered to Alina.

“Quiet.” She murmured back.

Antonio's smooth voice spoke out. “What makes you think this Alliance you're proposing will benefit me?”

Kenji chuckled, pouring the content from the bottle into the glass cup. “Because it's good business señor Alverez. Mutual strength and profit. We help with protecting your shipment from Asia to Mexico here, and you help us by giving us your connections.”

He has a good point there. Shipments these days have a hard time passing Asian borders and that's where the good market is.

“Hm I'll think about it.” Antonio said, raising the glass to his lips.

“Instead of that, try this beauty. It's sake from my homeland.” Kenji stopped him, pulling out a bottle with foreign labeling on it.

A smirk stretched across Antonio's face. “You think I'll trade my scotch for some rice wine?” He said cockily.

“Oh come on. It's a symbol of our friendship and you'll find the taste smoother than you expect.” Kenji grinned widely, nudging him to have a taste.

Kenji poured the sake carefully. Alina's eyes flickered to the movements of his hand, the way it brushed over the rim of the bottle, the angle where she stood gave her a clear view of the faint residue that smeared the rim of the glass. Poison.

Antonio sat still. Not touching the drink. His guarded eyes never leaving Kenji's collected ones.

“See,” he took a sip of his own glass lightheartedly like he didn't have a single evil deed behind his practiced friendliness. “It's all good.”

Antonio took this as a sign to go ahead and try the gift given to him. But Alina's mind snapped, she didn't think — her body moved before she could register anything.

She stepped forward, knocking the glass from his hand immediately. It shattered into thousands of pieces against the floor.

Everyone froze as the air in the room stilled.

Antonio's head snapped towards Alina who was still leaning close to him panting heavily. A gasp escaped her lips slightly, his eyes were the most enchanting thing she's seen in her life. They were magnificent up close.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Her attention snapped back to her master's furious expression.

“Poison.” She whispered for only him to hear. He looked down at the content that had a faint shimmer on the surface of the liquid.

Alina's attention shifted back to Kenji who was already bringing out a gun. The click of the safety being undone.

Alina was faster though. Always had been and always will. She grabbed the glock tucked inside Antonio's holster fast as lightning, her finger steady on the trigger.

Two shots cracked.

She won and he missed. Kenji Sato's gun clattered to the floor as he screamed, clutching his bleeding hand.

Antonio's men got to his own men before any of them could say Jack.

She smirked at the crying man on the carpet. “That's what you get for touching what's mine. Alvarez is mine and mine alone to kill.” She whispered under her breath.