Taming The Mafia King's Little Assassin

A Successive Plan

Her tongue fearfully ran across her now-dried lips as she processed his command.

‘He has a suspicion,’ she thought to herself while she watched his gaze burn the mug.

Of course! She had done something to the coffee.

How could she not?

From the maids, she overheard that the Master had problems sleeping at night—well, it's expected, judging from the amount of blood in his hands.

The thought nearly made her roll her eyes.

She also found out that he could only sleep when he had this special decaf coffee digested down his system.

And it was a strict order from the Old Mistress herself, to have this coffee brought to him every night before bed.

She had even assigned him his maid in the mansion, who's in charge of all that gets into his stomach in the mansion.

‘How deeply she loved her eldest son.’

Alyssa almost clicked her tongue in pity for dear Nathan.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He sounded the least interested. “I told you to drink the coffee, or do you want me to shove it down your throat and watch you writhe in pain while it burns?”

This threat undeniably brought her back from her deep stupor. She flinched when his voice intruded her ears again.

He didn't growl, or shout.

He threatened in a gentle and low tone, yet it was surprisingly intense and was more scarier than the loudest growl.

“I—I'll drink i—it now,” she mumbled, pressing the tray's edge to her body firmly.

As if it'll protect her from his outleash.

Her shaky hand slowly went for the coffee, she stopped to look at him once more; and wasn't the least encouraged by the raised thick dark brows he flung at her.

“Master, are suspecting I poisoned it?” she questioned with a timid tone that was barely audible. “If that's the case…then you don't have to worry about that, this was specifically given to me by Aunt Edna, I had nothing to do with making it,” she explained, wandering her eyes around everywhere but him, hinting at her demure and gentle nature.

“I see…” he drawled, causing a sweet vibration in his throat, a weird glint transparent in his eyes—a glint Alyssa did not trust.

“That's why I want you to try it; you haven't tasted Aunt Edna's coffee, no?” he said, obviously he didn't trust her intentions.

Sensing Alyssa's reluctance to speak, he concluded with a, “Have it, you wouldn't like it if I repeat myself,” following his threat, was his expression that instantly switched from neutral to devilish.

Alyssa swallowed. Having no choice, her quivering hand continued from where it left off, she wasted no time and immediately downed the whole content of the mug, not minding how it burnt.

When she was done, a wronged expression smudged her face with a slight pout of her reddish lips. “See, I told you nothing was wrong with it, but you refuse to accept my apology,” she complained bitterly.

Zion stared down at her with an expressionless demeanor.

Whether she spiked it or not, it wasn't to his concern. He just doesn't want to let his guard down around her.

Something about her was vague to understand, he couldn't tell what it was, but he knew he was going to find out, one way or another.

But he must!

“Now get out,” he spat, his gaze spelled cruelty.

Alyssa mummed her lips, she looked downward, trying to hide the stream of glistening liquid in her eyes.

“Mmm,” not wanting to ignite his fury, she hummed in response and turned away.

“And…”

She paused midway to hear what he had to say to say.

“And next time, don't you ever come in here again, except you have a death wish. That...I will grant you,” he warned her with a note of seriousness.

She heard the promise laced in those words, but she did her best, to not shudder at the threat.

Hastening her strides, Alyssa made it to the door, with a single pull, she opened it and flew out.

Closing it right back with the tray consisting of an empty mug in one hand.

The minute she was outside, she heaved heavily, letting out all that pent-up fright he had stirred in her.

“God when would this end?” she whispered to herself.

Just then, she felt the effects of the drug-induced coffee, take its toll on her.

Her eyes closed shut when she felt a throbbing pang in her head.

Despite the effects, a cold smile flashed on her lips when she realized that her plans were working.

Of course, she didn't miss the swift evading of a silhouette by the sharp bend of the lobby.

Instead, it fueled her exhilaration.

Clutching her head in her palm, she began to slowly mutter, “Hot...it's so hot,”

A few minutes after the heat rained down her system, making it impossible for her to breathe normally, she tripped and hit the ground, producing a loud ‘thud’ sound that surely was enough to wake the residents of that particular floor.

Having her knees bent backward with her butt on the back of her legs, Alyssa's palm flew to clutch her head.

Everything appeared as though it was spinning rapidly, and it was difficult for her to catch up.

The drug affected her so strongly, that she was beginning to feel intense dizziness that made haze subdue her sight.

Alyssa firmly hit her weak hand on the marble-tiled floor, struggling to regain her footing, but the effects were so potent it made her powerless against her weight.

With an incessant struggle, she finally succeeded, gritting her teeth hard to garner strength, headed for a particular door.

By the time she made it, a weak sigh inaudibly set off from her lips.

Alyssa utilized the last puny energy in her body to weakly knock on the door.

Her powerless knocks were doing nothing compared to the help she needed.

“Youngest Master—” lifeless was an understatement to the way her voice sounded.

Giving in to the turmoil inside of her body, Alyssa allowed her strength to fail as she collided painfully with the strong metal door.

Her palms were pressed against it in an attempt to support herself with the last ounce of strength she possessed.

Her face had turned ghostly pale, and her luscious, lustful red lips had lost all its color.

Alyssa precipitated with cold beads of sweat strolling down her temple, her face was contorted into an agonizing frown—she looked utterly pitiful at this stage—as if she was going mad with pain.

“Help me…please,” her tone has lost its fervency.

“Nathan…” she hadn't even known when she began calling him by his name, slapping her listless limbs against the door again in a futile attempt.

“Nathan…p—please—” her consciousness was gradually drifting away.

Fortunately enough, at that exact dire moment, the door parted open slowly.

It was indeed Nathan.

She got the door right!

Amid agony, Alyssa couldn't help but mentally rejoice.

“Youngest Master,” she whispered to him, looking lifelessly at his worried eyes as they cruised through her in scrutiny.

Was it her or did she spy a little anger…in them?

She forced a small smile across her lips when a drop of sweat trickled down her lips, before she could part her mouth to say anything else, she immediately lost consciousness and fell right into Nathan's strong arms.