One Night Assassin

•|Chapter 28 ~ The Apple Doesn't fall Far from the Tree

|Chapter 28|

A large splash of cold water awakens me from my uneasy sleep; gasping and chocking for air. Looking around, I had to process what was happening.

They actually found me... and this is where I die.

Blinking a few more times. Through blurriness, I see a large younger looking man in a suit in front of me holding a lit cigarette with his left hand.

"So Ms, Petrov, so you know why you're here?" The man says in his Russian accent with a smirk.

I stay silent, only glaring back at this man. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, I wanted to claw his dumb looking eyes out!

"So you're mute?" He stands up before walking to another smaller room. My eyes not believing what I'm seeing as they land on a beaten up and tied Veronica. "Maybe this will make you talk," he says before throwing her from bridal styles onto the floor in a split second, only making her ground at the pain.

"Veronica..." I mumble before taking in her soft badly bruised face, "What'd you do to her you price of shit?" I say struggling to get out of my restraints of rope.

"Ах, так она говорит," (Ah, so she speaks) he says in his native tongue before laughing with the guards on each side of me, thinking I can't understand him.

I didn't ever like the fact that I knew Russian. I tried to keep that part of my life a secret. Once my father taught me it up until his death, he made me promise him I'd never use it as long as we lived in America because it draws too much unwanted attention.

"What do you want?" I say with a blank stare not even a crack a fear in my voice.

"You see, that's easy. Power," he says with such ease before standing up and walking closer towards me. "And you my darling," he starts before kneeling to look at me straight on my eyes, "hold more power than any American I'd ever seen."

He starts to walk back, asking forgiveness from my father before doing it.

"Я родилась в Омск России." (I was born in Omsk Russia.) I say with a sense of pride as I swallow my fear.

I knew I promised my father to never speak the language outside the home, but there were no options left for me. There was a chance I wouldn't leave here alive if I didn't at least show that I'm not just my fathers daughter.

He stops, turning and looking at me with a surprised look on his face. "Seems your father taught you to stick with your roots still, but how do you expect me to believe that when your mother is from Italy?"

I pause and furrow my brows, "Italy? My mother is from Bulgaria. What are you..." I stop, trying to understand how he would get that type of information from.

"Hm, seems your family is has more skeletons in their closet than you think." He only smiles before yelling, "Позвони ей сюда!" (Bring her out here!)

The sound of high heels clanking hit my ears before the sights of what's in front of me make my eyes go wide.

"M-Mama?"

A skinny lady taller than me around 5,5 in a tight burgundy dress with lipstick to match stained on her lips. Confusing me more when I see her walk up to me and kiss my forehead.