Alora Imari has the face of an angel, but the body of a vixen. She's feared by all. Her and her elder brother, Giovanni Imari, were passed down the family business; becoming mobsters for the Italian mafia.
Many describe Alora as being heartless and...
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"Mic check," Zara speaks into our mics. I adjust my mic to make sure that I can hear her properly. I angle my rifle and peek through the scope. Another shipment is arriving tonight and we're here, of course.
"Do we always have to do mic checks?" My annoying twin brother asks.
"Check," Marcus and Alex say in unison. Those guys are like Siamese twins, it's kind of insane.
All of our other remaining snipers check in with Zara, leaving the asshole and I to check in. It's been three weeks of little to no communication with him. I've been keeping myself busy with Ivankov and you know, how the Russian Mafia wants me dead. Christian has found out where all their shipments were being dropped off and we've been there. We steal their shit and kill, the ones that are unfortunate enough to not die are taken to Gio's estate and interrogated. And by interrogated, they're tortured until they give us information. We've managed to pry a significant amount of information from them, but it's still not enough.
"A? Sal?" Zara says through her mic.
"Check," he says from right next to me.
"Check," I say after a significant amount of time has passed. He's tried to talk to me, but I've grown up listening to people's bullshit. I'm over it. Every time I try to let down my walls, someone gives me a fucking reason to build them back up again.
I position my sniper rifle where I need it and aim it at someone's head. I wait for the call that it's good to go. The wind blows my hair out of my face and it flows behind me. I lay uncomfortably on my stomach and want to get this over with.
Salvatore turns off his mic and glances towards me. This is the first time in three weeks where we've been alone. There's a reason for that.
"How you've been?" He asks and I pretend to not hear him. I adjust my scope and inhale the fresh air around us. "Silent treatment? Really?" He scoffs.
I turn off my mic.
"Okay, you have no fucking reason to be mad at me. I don't want to talk to you, it's as simple as that. Leave me alone, dude. Lets just get this over with," I snap.
"No, I wanna talk," he persists.
"I don't give a fuck if you wanna talk. I've said it before and I'll say it again: you and I will never work. You're too fucking egotistical and I'm... me. Go find someone else to fuck over because it's sure as hell ain't gonna be me." I'm not some gullible, naïve girl he can fuck with. If he's looking for a sex-based relationship with no strings attached, that's great for him, but he's not going to find it with me. "I don't have anything else to say to you."
"Good, because you're gonna listen," he states. Excuse me? I'm going to what? "Gio was right. I used to do that and I did have a thing with Isabella. She fell in love with me, but I didn't love her--"
