Loving a Killer | 18+

1.2 - Red Snow

| Norah |

It took me weeks. A couple of weeks for me to build my persona - my alternate identity. The accent was an easy pick-up, but the language was not. I only studied a few words and phrases, but Adriano insisted that the Russians wouldn't need any further indication of my legitimacy if I stuck with the accent. I prayed to God that he was right.

I was to achieve the attention of the intended targets and spark a conversation. From there, I would have to find a way to leave with them and bring them out to where Maddox would be waiting. My brothers and Xander were to wait outside if anything went wrong.

Thing is... I couldn't wear a wire.

Also, all of us knew that getting the targets alone was up to me and the sole fact that I was a woman. We were quite seriously praying on the fact that these targets weren't gay, so to speak, and if they were... then I guess we'd just send in Maddox.

So basically, I was to go in blind and go straight for their quite obvious weakness: sex. Although, the plan was to simply get the target out of the building. Sounds pretty easy when it's explained, but I know it won't be.

On another note, December had finally come. A cold, brutal winter had now set in. The same cold and brutal feelings came from Maddox for the past couple of weeks. He neither reacted nor gave his two cents when Adriano told them all that I had agreed to Xander's plan like I thought he would. And in these weeks, I never spoke - never even glanced at Maddox.

What tension that was between us had frozen when the first snowfall came bustling through New York. It wasn't gone, but it was stagnant. I let him do his job, but after Oasi and seeing how out of hand my little game with him had gone, I let it go and devoted myself to helping with the plan. I guess you could call it my distraction...

So after following leads on where a lot of the insiders were going to be, I found myself standing in the icy air outside of a shady pub on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Apparently, it was owned by one of the mobsters and was a typical Russian hang-out. I snuck a glance at the picture they had of the target.

Anton Demenok. Married into the Kosta family and was now the nephew-in-law of Viktor Kosta, the Russian mob boss, AKA the man who calls the shots and ultimately wants his men to bring my head to him. Anton is the main handler of the lower-level drug curriers. He was mid-thirties with dark black hair and almost charcoal, ego-filled eyes. He had stone-cold features with a five o'clock shadow darkening his jawline.

I shivered as a gust of snowy wind hit me, and put the picture back into my handbag. I held the warm fur coat close. It was wrapped around my upper body, covering my dress underneath. Snow crept into my stilettos, chilling my feet as I shook out my hair and turned my head to see Xander standing in a dark hoodie across the street. He nodded his head once and started walking away, out of sight.

I didn't know where Maddox was. He was out there somewhere, probably waiting for the right time. I guess I'd see him later, once I got the target outside.

I ignored the nerves of what could go wrong, and relaxed. I planted a soft smirk on my face and felt a certain confidence wash over me like it had the night at Oasi. There was to be no trace of Norah Romaniello.

Tonight, it was Nastasia Volkov. 

I strutted over to the bouncer, my hips swaying, perfectly fitting the confidence of my new identity. The bouncer looked me up and down, not budging.