Assassination 101

Lesson 1: Surprise

Lesson 1: Surprise

The sound of my blaring alarm grated on my ears all the way from my bedroom as I showered in the scalding water to ease my tired body and tense muscles.

I'd gotten barely a wink of sleep last night. My mind had been racing with ways I could've made my last mission run smoother. This tended to happen rather frequently. I was what you could call a bit of a perfectionist but that trait of mine had saved my ass more than once so I definitely wasn't complaining.

I quickly scrubbed my body and got dressed, readying myself for the day ahead despite how tired I felt. In my line of work, I always had to be alert and ready even if my body was protesting.

Feeling somewhat refreshed, I exited my room to head downstairs towards the kitchen, catching a whiff of some freshly cooked eggs. There was a mouthwatering omelette on the kitchen island which I swiped without a second thought. However, I didn't even get to eat my first forkful before my plate was snatched away.

"Now Blair, stealing isn't nice," the voice chastised, making me scowl as I looked at him.

"Well Emilio, maybe you shouldn't leave your food unattended," I retorted, slipping out of my chair, readying to rip the plate from his hands.

Realising what I was about to do a split second before I could act, he lifted the plate above his head, far from my reach. "Tsk. Tsk. A rookie move, Blair. I expect a lot more from a mafia trained assassin. Where's the element of surprise?"

Too caught up in his momentary victory, he didn't anticipate my next move, thinking he'd already won. Idiot. Using the knife I'd picked up from the counter, I sliced down the side of his abdomen, not deep enough to scar but enough for him to wince and put the plate down.

"What the fuck, Blair!" Emilio cursed, clutching his side in pain as he reached for the cabinet containing the first aid kit.

Lightning fast, I snatched for the plate, bolting out of the kitchen and into the living room, laughing in victory over my shoulder. "You shouldn't have let your guard down. I expected more from a mafia trained assassin," I shouted in triumph, a smirk on my face.

I plopped down onto the cushy sofa in the living room, crossing my legs underneath me and turning the TV on, changing the channel to a random game show. I answered every question with ease, barely even having to think. I really should go on one of these; I'd be rich in only a few hours.

About twenty minutes later, the sofa dipped beside me, Emilio sitting down with a sulky expression as he shoved a brand new omelette into his mouth.

"Where'd you get that from?" I asked, the smirk from earlier returning to my face.

He glared at me then returned his attention to his breakfast. "I got Maria to make me another. I don't see why you didn't just ask her instead of stabbing me," he said, pouting as if he were a child.

I chuckled at the theatrics, finishing the last of my delicious omelette. "I didn't want to wait and it looked so inviting just sitting there, unattended. I couldn't let such a good meal go cold, now could I? And I barely grazed you, stop being so dramatic," I finished with an eye roll, putting my empty plate down onto the coffee table.

"Barely grazed," he mimicked as another person entered the room.

"Blair, Maria sent me to ask why there's blood on the kitchen floor," Gio said, a shit-eating grin on his face. His jet black hair was messy as if he'd just gotten out of bed and the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt confirmed my theory, his slender yet muscular build on full display.