Mafia King's Fatal Lover

Chapter3 Birthday

In the apartment, Elektra turned off the shower and walked out of the glass room.

The mirror on the washstand was misty. She put on a broad white t-shirt and wiped out a bright half arc.

The wound on the forehead stopped bleeding, but the bruise on the neck became serious.

In the cold white lamplight, the finger that inspected the condition of injury stopped. Elektra was stupefied: she found her necklace was missing.

She suddenly became panic and rushed from the bathroom to the drawing room barefooted.

It could be lost during the confrontation with Abel Hill.

"Looking for this?" A husky, tipsy female voice came from the bar.

Elektra turned round and saw Wendy wearing a dark green robe, disheveled and leaning against the bar whilst drinking. There was a thin thread of silk hanging from her finger-tips, sparkling in the dim light.

The tense eased finally.

"This inferior necklace is what your frustration is?" Wendy’s tone sounded lazy.

Then she put the necklace on the table.

Elektra did not speak.

She walked over. When her fingers were about to touch it, Wendy suddenly pressed her hand down.

“Why is it so important?” Wendy asked, with a defiant tone, like a cat playing with its prey.

“It's the reason why you worked for Mark Evans, isn't it?”

Elektra stunned.

It is true that women's sixth sense is terribly accurate sometimes.

She was assigned to Wendy after she came to New York, by Mark Evans. To put it mildly, she was Wendy Evans' bodyguard; to put it bluntly as a matter of fact she was here to help him monitor Miss Wendy Evans.

Elektra has always been an indifferent person, too lazy to care about irrelevant things. Now she just clenched her fists and yanked the necklace out of Wendy’s hand.

She exerted 80% of force.

But Wendy’s hand was too late to take back. Her elbow hit the edge of the marble table, and she gritted her teeth in pain.

The wide cuffs of the robe slid down, revealing a bruise on the arm.

Elektra stopped, and knew that they must be injured on the cruise.

Although she didn’t want to participate in family affair of Evans, Wendy's injury was the dereliction of her duty after all.

She could not help but feel a little self-blame.

Elektra put on the necklace, turned around and grabbed Wendy's wrist.

She dragged her into the bedroom directly.

Wendy howled all the way, until she was pinned down on the sofa by Elektra without any resistance. She wanted to jump up and resist. But sensing a cold wind from Elektra’s eyes, Wendy withered to sit back.

Elektra then went outside to get medicine.

“Eh,” Wendy still tried to talk to her, “How much does Mark Evans pay you? I give you double, you help me kill him.”

“Miss Evans,” said Elektra coldly, “This joke is not funny.”

“I'm NOT joking!” Wendy was still full of cynicism.

She leaned back on the sofa, half-drunk, and she muttered, “Didn't they say that one must pay with his life if he killed someone? Mark Evans has done all the bad things, so why doesn't he have to pay with his life?”

Elektra did not want to talk. She buried her head to apply the balm for Wendy.

The room was quiet. There was only rustling sound of the gauze bandage wraps.

Under the effect of alcohol, Wendy finally settled down a little. She put her hands down, ran into the cabinet next to her sofa, and knocked down the sundry box.

Stuffs fell all over the floor.

Two bottles rolled out of a paper bag.

Elektra recognized them.

It was the"Sleeping Pill" that Wendy had asked her to take tonight.

Clomiphene Citrate, a drug used to induce ovulation.

Both of them were petrified at the same time. Wendy rushed over to snatch the things on the ground. During the scuffle, Elektra pressed her on the ground.

“What is it?” She asked, her tone being cold and terrible.

Seeing that things could not be hidden any more, Wendy simply lied on the ground and sneered: “Isn't it book of words? Can’t you read?”

“I mean, what are you gonna do with it?”

Wendy smiled even more happily, “What do you think? It can't be health and beauty, can it?”

Elektra became speechless. She wanted to strangle this woman immediately.

Wendy's rebellion was known to everyone.

Since the first day of being her bodyguard, Elektra had been told in detail.

She didn't know if it was true love or if it was just to make things difficult for Mark Evans. As soon as Wendy came to New York, she quickly hooked up with one of his most capable assistants.

That man has been with Mark for many years. Now, he is the marketing director of Wings Group's New York branch. Logically, he couldn’t have been so stupid and did such a thing with Wendy.

But beautiful girls are usually femme fatales. Boys are more often than not slaves to their own p*****s.

Now the cooperation between the two Groups has been decided. As long as it doesn’t cross the line, a love affair is normally not worth mentioning in front of huge interests.

So Elektra can somehow figure out what is on Wendy’s mind.

"You don't have to make fun of your body to get back at Mr. Evans."

"Oh, really? I can't." Wendy asked. "Then why could they?"

Elektra was silent.

At last, without a word, she took the medicine off the ground and left.

*

The rain had let up at last. The wet air still obscured the view from the terrace of the apartment.

The orange-red light was faint, and a c***k pierced the hazy night.

A little spark and white smoke rose. Elektra saw the city sky in pale ink.

The train started. Orange and silver lights came on. The following taillights on the road rolled like pearls. Innumerable lamps that set in the vast night time made her feel lost.

The current situation became more uncertain than Elektra had expected.

Two years earlier, she had thought about how difficult it would be when she promised Mylan she would take on the FBI's assignment.

So giving up was not Elektra’s intention at all.

Although her true identity was still hidden well at present, Abel Hill would not give up easily once he suspected that she was from Nano.

This also meant that she was not sure how long she could get close to Abel Hill before the truth out.

So, she had to think of a solution quickly.

But how?

Elektra thought that the most feasible way for the time being was to start with Nano family.

They say that the enemy of an enemy is a friend.

If only there was a way to tie her and Abel's interests together, and to make him believe that she had a reasonable motive to approach Wendy Evans, or even to approach him, it would at least prove she wasn't the mole from Nano.

When all’s clear she could still stay with Wendy Evans.

With a long smoke of sigh, Elektra reached into her pocket for her cell phone. She lifted the lighter lid, and took out a fingernail-size SIM card.

The call went through.

Mylan's voice came from the other side.

As expected, he was still wide awake.

It seemed as if he’d always been there whenever she needed him.

Elektra suddenly felt warmth in her heart. The circulation of the smoke that expanded in her lung as a torch incarnate dried up her wet body.

“It's good hearing from you,” he said, with a touch of relief in his voice. “No worries eh?”

“Eh,” Elektra answered. She always reported good news, and had a habit of leaving out unnecessary concerns.

“Help me find out more about Nano, will ya?”added she, “The more details, the better.”

“What's up?” Mylan asked, a little worried. “Why the sudden interest in Nano?”

“To get close to Abel Hill.”

“Don't try to be play hero,” the voice on the other side raised apparently. Mylan was unable to hide the anxiety.

Elektra rubbed her sore temple. She didn’t try to persuade him, but said in a light tone: “If you find the request hard to accommodate, I’ll go to someone else.”

There was a long palpable silence. Mylan finally said, “Okay.”

He then whispered, “Heads up, three o'clock.”

Elektra looked toward the direction, and saw a row of almost invisible colored lights in the Central Park Square not far away.

They formed a small circle, like rubies in the dark night.

“Happy Birthday,” Mylan said, “May I be your first well-wisher?”

Her heart skipped a beat and sank again.

If it hadn’t been for Mylan, Elektra would have forgotten it was her birthday.

She stared at the circle of cake-shaped lights for a long time before she drawled calmly, "Thank you."

The man on the other end of the phone paused, wanting to say something, but only came to a simple “Good night."

A tender whisper.

Elektra gave a slightly "Night", and hung up.