Code name: Athena [18+]

Code name: Faccia a faccia

•Ilya Zharkov•

Okay, hi, my name is Ilya Zharkov and Arabella might kill me after her husband comes get her before we can get to—wait, she's running towards the car and and and Ethan is after her.

Fuck.

I hopped off the car and pulled out my gun from my shoulder holster "He knows!" Arabella shouted.

She stood behind me and grabbed the other gun from my left ankle as I pointed mine at the guy "What does he know?"

"Who I am," she replied out of breath.

"Get in the car, Arabella," I ordered because she is fucking pregnant, I'm not trying to let someone hurt my upcoming niece or nephew.

"No," she approached the man slowly.

"Arabella, get back here," I told glancing at her.

"Shut up," she snapped. "Do you know who has my son?" The muzzle of her gun was against his Adam's apple but he stayed quiet looking down at her "Answer me!" Arabella shouted desperately.

"Maybe I do," he told "maybe I do—" before he could finish that sentence, Arabella kneed his stomach and then hit the back of his head with the gun's magazine causing him to fall unconscious.

"Oh well," I sheathed my gun "let—" this woman is full of fucking surprises. A group of six girls came out of the corner wearing all-black clothes and moved the man onto a wheelchair. One of them talked to Arabella about if they should take them to HQ or to my place.

Arabella's eyes met mine "How about you teach me that technique?"

"Of what?" My right eyebrow arched as I crossed my arms.

"Torture," she said with a straight face.

I glanced at my wristwatch "I have time."

"You don't have anywhere else to go," she said walking towards the car.

What a rude teenager "I do," I walked towards the car.

"Like where?" She desperately tried to open the door.

I hopped in without a problem "Girls panties!" All four doors were shut and locked.

"Open the fucking door you twat!" She exclaimed knocking on the window "or I'll break the window!"

And with that I unlocked my door because this woman keeps her word and my car will not be a victim.

We drove to a shady location. Well I drove while she complained about my slow driving but I was following the damn van filled with the hot girls.

"So are they like your security or—"

"They're like family to me," she said looking out the window "They had nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"When you have no one it feels like you have nothing," Arabella sighed deeply "I know that feeling all too well. They were abused their whole life and took a dangerous route...people blame them for falling into crime but they were pushed to it by being marginalized so I wanted to show them they're not alone."

I thought I knew Arabella. Yes she's a badass capo who will make your death last a month, yes she's the girl who doesn't miss when she throws knives, yes she's fucking scary and yes she is fucking hot (sorry not sorry Apollo) but only a few people know how selfless, kind and loving she is. If she kills is because the person on the chair has done something horrific and she rescued these girls...isn't that what superheroes do?