So, the French and the Germans. Alliances. Who else are we allied to? Who is our enemy?
Will my family even share this with me?
They probably know I know about their mafia already.
I'm an assassin after all.
For all they know, I could be plotting to kill them right now. They could be plotting to kill me, or to use me as bait.
My mother taps on my shoulder. I jerk away, and stare into her eyes. She's startled, but composes herself. "Are you ready, my angel?" She asks softly.
I nod.
My mother takes my hand in hers, and leads me over to a white door. It's simple. I hear light conversation on the other side:
"YOU LITTLE SHI—"
"BASTAR—"
"I swear, I'll kill all of you if you talk like this in front of Lila. She's twelve, remember?"
That sentence silences them.
And now I finally know how old I really am.
Twelve-years-old.
What a nice word. 67 is fifteen. She guessed that 28 must be around seventeen. She told me I'm ten, but I now know that was false.
I'm two years older than I thought I was.
Two extra years to experience the world.
The asylum had me for two more years.
The Center had me for two more years.
The thought leaves a sick knot in my stomach. I bite onto my lip, and glance at my mother. I pull my hand away, and wrap it over my chest.
She opens the door.
And we step inside.
I take in the five Monet boys— my brothers. I've watched them for years. I've killed their pets, their friends, their soldiers.
Alexandre. The Heir.
Nicolas. The Doctor.
Arthur. The Killer.
Charles. The Hacker.
Pierre. The Shooter.
I wonder why my name is 'Lila' and not some super-French name like 'Odette'.
"Hello," I say. My voice is soft. Deceiving. Their eyes widen. Are they confused? Why? I don't think I gave them anything to be confused over.
The oldest, Alexandre, smiles lightly at me. "Hello, Lila. I'm your eldest brother, Alexandre."
I nod. "I know who you are. I know all of you, actually."
He nods, analyzing me. "Right."
Arthur snorts. "Well, that makes sense," He points to the black circle around his left eye. "She punched me."
"Of course she did. You were being a freakin' weirdo. Your communication sucks as hell," Charles mumbles.
Nicolas smacked him upside the head.
I shrug. "I tried to kill him." My finger points at Alexandre. "I was almost about to do it, too. Why were you torturing small children and pregnant woman?"
Silence falls over the room.
A tight blanket of tension.
"Lila," my mother says, "What are you talking about?"
YOU ARE READING
Little Lila
General Fictionstandalone ~ mafia siblings series "She's a monster!" "She's a demon!" "She's a... child." Lila grew up in an asylum. She could see things other people didn't see. Lila was told she was crazy. Crazy people must be punished. The asylum was a cover...
four | house of men
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