She was crazy and a trained killer. She was raised by the mafia and one night she makes a mistake which could cost her her life. She shows weakness and is kidnapped by her father's enemies. While she's captured, she discovers something that turns he...
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Dad, the next day, bought me a new phone and I had found the perfect place for me. It was a condo in central Manhattan with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city.
"I love it," I said. "I want it."
"We'll take it," my dad told the realtor. "What is this sudden need to be independent come from?"
"I don't know."
"Vlad said you were spewing some random shit about the death of your mother and the Italian-Russian Raids."
"I had done some research while in hiding and shit wasn't adding up but it nothing," I said. "It was an invalid source."
"Okay, you know I would never lie to you," he said.
"Yeah, I know Dad," I said. My stomach churned at his fake kindness and innocence.
"Here," he said handing me a black card. "Buy you whatever you want. You can always come back home when you realize being alone isn't what it seems."
"I can handle myself and I like being alone," I said. "You should know I enjoy working alone."
"I know," he said. "People think you should be working as a hit woman."
"Maybe I should," I said jokingly. I could never kill someone without having my own motive behind it. "Thanks Dad. I'm going to go furniture shopping now."
"Okay, I love you," he said.
"You too," I said back and followed him out. I had to find Miguel who could help me contact Vincenzo. Miguel was the best hacker in New York. He hung out a lot at the cafe on twenty-ninth. I found myself at the cafe looking for Miguel. Found him.
The family didn't know about Miguel and I planned to keep it this way.
"I need you to find someone for me," I said sitting down next to him.
"Chica, you look somewhat normal today," he said. "What are you doing playing dress up and acting like a functioning member of society?"
"Yeah, I just got my own condo but back to finding someone," I said.
"Target?"
"No, a friend," I said. The word sounded weird on my tongue. "Vincenzo Moretti."
"As in Italian Mafia Boss?"
"That's the one," I said.
"Star-crossed lovers," he said.
"We're not lovers," I said. "Can you find him? At least get me a contact number."
"Give me a second," he said. "Finding someone on this level of ghost scale is going to take me at most ten minutes."
Like I said, he was the best. I ordered a coffee in the meantime while I watched him rapidly type on his laptop.
