CHAPTER 3
1577 Words
IRINA
“f**k!”
Aside from cursing, there’s not much else I can do presently.
I stand ankle-deep in water running from the broken faucet in my hotel bathroom that had long since seeped out and spread all over the hotel room, ruining the expensive-looking rug, my shoes, and and Vertani dress.
I gently rub the tiredness away from my eyes as I trudge through the watery mess further into the bathroom where a dead body casually floats in my lavender wash that fills the bathtub.
The events leading up to this very moment were nothing short of infuriating. I should’ve known better than to believe my father would book an all-expense paid trip to Spain for me with no strings attached.
Strings being his ‘assignments’ and ‘Special requests’.
It’s incredibly frustrating, I actually thought that he had finally seen how much work I had put in these last few months for the family and the business.
I felt this was his way of rewarding me for all of that, but no, this was just another elaborate setup he had orchestrated to enable me complete another of his assignments.
I had barely been here for a week when he called to tell me that he had a business contact in the area and he would love if I could extend his courtesy.
Now at the time, I thought nothing of it, I mean Daddy had several business partners scattered all over the globe, so I saw this as nothing more than a coincidence.
But I should’ve known better.
There really are no such things as coincidences in my line of work, not in the least bit.
So, Daddy’s contact was a middle-aged man named Mr.Vidal, he looked surprisingly spry for his age, but I pushed that seemingly unnecessary observation to the back of my mind.
The meeting with Mr.Vidal was amazing, he owned a chain of properties here in Madrid and we spoke about investing in real estate in great detail. Mr. Vidal was a very charming man, that much I had to give him, so it was only natural that I invited him up to my penthouse suite for drinks.
I was glad he didn’t really mind, he didn’t appear married, there was no ring on his finger, and he was incredibly attractive.
A few glasses in, Mr. Vidal and I were all over each other, the wine we had shared was already a distant memory, as we busied ourselves with finding how the other tasted.
We didn’t get too far along on that venture seeing as my phone beeped with an incoming text from my father.
I promptly excused myself, and Mr.Vidal was enough of a gentleman to understand.
‘Never ignore daddy’s calls.’ I had that lesson beaten into me as a kid, and I remember it till this very day.
On opening Daddy’s text, the blood in my veins ran ice-cold.
It simply read; “Kill him.”
I had barely finished processing the text when I felt a sharp pain in my side. I looked down and saw a small dart sticking out of my skin. I turned to face Mr. Vidal, who was holding a tranquilizer gun with a smug grin on his face.
"Sorry, Irina. I'm afraid this is where our little date ends."
He reached for his holster, but I was faster. I pulled out the blade from my dress and threw it at his chest, piercing his chest in one clean shot.
He gasped and stumbled back, dropping his gun. I ran towards him, hoping to finish him off before he could recover. But he was not as weak as he looked.
He grabbed my arm and twisted it, making me drop my second blade. He then kicked me in the stomach, sending me flying across the room.
I crashed into the bar, destroying several bottles of expensive wine in the process.
I groaned and tried to get up, but the tranquilizer was starting to take effect. I felt dizzy and weak as if I was moving in slow motion. I saw Mr. Vidal standing over me, holding a knife. He had a wicked smile on his face as if he was enjoying my suffering.
"You know, Irina, you're quite a remarkable woman. You're smart, beautiful, and deadly, I guess it's true what they say about women born into the Russian Mafia. Sadly, your story ends here. "
He raised the knife, ready to plunge it into me.
I gathered all the willpower I had left and dodged his stab, rolling away from his reach. I felt a sharp pain in my hands as I grabbed the broken glass from the bar, using it to prop myself up. I looked at him, and saw him coming at me again, his knife shining in the dark. He was fast, but I was but I was pissed.
As he tentatively approached, I scanned him, his stance and outfit, looking for anything I could use to my advantage.
Then I saw it—a flash of fear in his eyes, a slight hesitation in his step. He was not as confident as he pretended to be. He knew I was dangerous, even in this state, and that tidbit of knowledge gave way to the right amount of fear and uncertainty.
I seized the moment, and lunged at him with all the force my sluggish body could muster.
We collided with a loud crash, knocking the wind out of me as we fell to the floor. He tried to push me off, but I clung to him like a wild animal, scratching and biting with all my strength. I didn't care about the pain, or the blood, or the darkness closing in on me. I only cared about one thing—ending Mr. Vidal’s life.
And then I heard it—a snap, followed by a choked scream. I had broken his neck with my bare hands. I felt his body go limp under me, his knife slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground.
Shaking last night’s memory away from my mind, I dragged down the shower curtain and covered up Mr. Vidal’s body. The last thing I want is for his empty stare to give me nightmares later.
With that done and out of the way, I return to the semi-flooded room to find my phone.
I had passed out before I could report back to Daddy that I had completed the assignment.
It takes a fair while, but I eventually find my phone under a heap of broken bottles, and unsurprisingly, the phone is ruined beyond repair. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the jacked-up screen is the least of its problems seeing as it had spent the night wholely immersed in alcohol.
“Fuck.”
I have to get word out to Daddy somehow.
I make my way to the room’s entrance and open the door slightly, bearing in mind my present state of undress.
“Olav, give me your phone.” I hiss at one of the bodyguards Daddy had dispatched to travel with me. Not really as a security measure, but to sell the guise of a spoiled princess.
“Is there a problem Miss? We heard a lot of disturbances last night. Are you doing okay—
“Give me your damn phone Olav!”
The large man raises his hand in surrender before rifling through his pockets and handing me the device.
“If there’s a problem miss Irina we can—
I slam the door in his face, I don’t have the time to waste being mothered by Olav.
Finding Daddy’s number is easy enough. I don’t feel like talking to him or debriefing in person, so I shoot him a text.
‘It’s done. Lost my phone in the scuffle. Will reach out soon.’
That was more than enough, daddy wasn’t the type to waste words, a trait I had picked up from him.
I slide Olav’s phone through the gap underneath the door, I don’t want him badgering me anymore.
I collapse onto the sofa and all but melt into it. I felt tired as hell, like I hadn’t slept a wink last night.
My eyes travel to the ceiling where there’s a large mirror that fills the space of the ceiling, and I take a few seconds to take in my disheveled form.
“A hot mess.”
There is no better description, my hair is all over the place and there are patches of dried blood in several places. There’s also a slight cut on my forehead that also has a trail of dried blood that’s now plastered against my face.
No wonder Olav looked so worried.
I let out a tired sigh, the events of last night catching up to me. At this point, I’m just glad I made it out alive.
On that note, I needed to get Olav and Andrew to dispose of the body later, while I go make a scene at the reception.
It’s a standard practice of mine in situations like these. If I make a big enough scene, then I’ll have a good enough reason to suddenly up and leave.
The leaky faucet can fly, but I don’t know how I’m going to spin the destroyed bar and drinks.
…Maybe I slipped and fell?
I mean it's not too far from the truth so it could work.
- Writer
