Zion Armani's eyes darkened when the small figure of the girl walked out from behind his right-hand man, her body covered by a robe they supplied in her closet. He could practically hear the thoughts of the men standing around the room and sitting on the office chairs, they were unpure as their eyes latched onto the scowling woman.
She trailed her eyes over the men in the room, then snapped her head in Zion's direction. She was still angry about him trying to hit her. The remainder of last night's punches ached around her face and her recovering thigh felt weak as she stood with her head held high. Admirable confidence.
She was slightly worried when she realized Flynn wasn't around at the moment, and her mind immediately resulted to her memorization of faces when she matched them to the men inside. This office was huge, and there was room for at least three times as many men. Ren Coste leaned on the wall on the right by the shelf with many books, piquing her interest. Isaiah Bianco sat widely on the leather chair on the opposite side of the room near the whiskey bottle and tray of glasses, a stupid smirk playing on his face. Xavier Kahandi sat in the chair next to Isaiah, focused on the white bandage around her thigh, the gaze making her uncomfortable. Liam Russo sat in front of the desk on the couch by the glass coffee table with a few files and work documents lying on it. Zion leaned back on the edge of his desk, casually clenching the ledge of the dark wooden furniture.
Her eyes narrowed at Zion, pupils dilating due to the work lamp that was lit on the desk, which was different from the dark room she was recently in.
She was also fully convinced these men lived in suits. What an uncomfortable attire...
"I apologize if I woke you," Zion smirked. She blinked twice before finding the composure to speak. Zion Armani apologizing? Tell her another joke.
"Sure," she seethed, raising her eyebrows for a quick second. She watched as Inan walked towards the couch and sat down by Liam, leaving her standing alone, all the men staring at her. Something about Inan standing near her kept her from shaking, but now she was trying to stay standing.
His smirk faded and he pushed himself off the desk, standing up straight and practically causing her knees to buckle when he stood to his full height. He was trying to intimidate her, and it was working.
"Sit," he ordered, bossing her around like a dog. She sneered to herself and looked around, seeing the chair across from the couch was empty. She took a step towards the chair, but another idiot had to open his mouth.
"I'm sure my lap would be more comfortable," Isaiah boasted, winking at her with the same cocky smirk. Her head snapped up and she clenched her fists, stopping immediately as her body visibly tensed. Her lips quirked upwards at the thought of pissing off every other guy in here and proving the other assassin wrong, and she was never one to pass up an opportunity to make someone mad. She shrugged to herself and walked right around the chair, staring straight at Isaiah the entire time. She couldn't deny, he was attractive, hell, every male in here was attractive, but she wanted to beat him at his own game.
Feeling the daring eyes of everyone in the room on her, she smirked down at Isaiah Bianco and watched as his eyes widened as she sat on his thigh, crossing her legs so they rested in between his knees, her back leaning on his shoulder.
He wasn't completely wrong when he said it would be comfortable. She felt his hand trail up to her waist, keeping her in place, almost making her regret her decision.
She crossed her arms and looked back over to Zion, seeing his hands clenched in fists and his jaw clench repeatedly.
"Go on," she swaggered, wanting to see him snap again. Maybe he would actually hit her this time, it would most likely give her the motivation she needed to shoot him.
"Sit in the damn chair," he demanded, obviously not one for her games this evening. She tilted her head, her hair waving over her shoulder and down onto Isaiah's chest. She looked down at Isaiah and saw the look in his pale eyes, then she looked back up at Zion.
Too bad, she thought.
"Hm," she hummed, fakely questioning herself, "I don't think I will."
Isaiah's grip loosened, and he put his hands up in surrender towards his boss, showing that it was all up to Zhara now to see if she is joking or not. She wasn't. Her robe was leaning off her shoulder, showing the silk tank top that was under it and the thin strap resting on her collarbone.
"All talk now, huh?" she teased the assassin, arching her back purposely against him. Isaiah looked down at her ass before smirking up at her. Idiot.
She pushed herself off of him while sighing through her nose and kept eye contact with Zion as she walked over to the chair she was supposed to sit in.
Crossing her legs again, she rested an arm on the side of the chair and propped up her chin, somehow looking professional in nightclothes.
Zion's eyes lingered too long on her bare legs, and he scolded himself for it. She stared at him blankly until he finally calmed down, whatever that steamed within him during that little performance she played off was still there and it bothered him.
She wasn't supposed to be comfortable near the people here, she was supposed to be scared. She was supposed to hate it. She wasn't supposed to find it amusing to mess with him, to try to get him mad.
"Tomorrow night, you will be disconnecting a tracker at one of our port stations," he states, causing her face to drop and her eyes fill with something he couldn't read. She didn't really know what to say, she wasn't expecting to have to do something like that this early on. They didn't even trust her yet, and they probably never would, so why would the let her do something like that.
She nodded, not knowing how to reply with words. He expected more.
"This tracker has been planted for a month, one we found after a stock raid. You will have to cut all ties to it and destroy it without damaging anything around it or cause even more destruction," he added, slightly hoping she would speak.
Trackers of that level were very difficult to get rid of without a tech person guiding one through the process, so she hoped she would have someone telling her what to do. Because if she didn't, this would be a death trap. And something about that thought made her think that Zion was giving her this assignment on purpose.
"Where is it?" she asked after a few seconds, suddenly more serious than she had been a few minutes ago.
"A cell tower that is a quarter mile from the base, you will have to get there without being seen and get back to the warehouse silently," he explained, and her eyebrows raised.
"You expect me to climb a motherfucking cell tower with a stab wound and find a way to destroy a professionally planted tracker and not get caught?" she gaped, gripping the edge of the seat as she leaned forward. Zion smirked and leaned closer to her, making her shiver slightly.
"Like you said, you are good at what you do. Why don't you prove it?" he taunted, his stupidly attractive face teasing her and waiting for a point in her weakness. She stood up, her thigh aching under the sudden pressure.
She lifted her chin high and showed no sign of defeat as she stared into his eyes.
"Fine, then. If that's what will lead me closer to my death," she hissed, causing his demeanor to change and the energy in the room to slither around the two of them.
She didn't give him a second glance as she turned and walked towards the door, but he obviously wasn't done. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and put too much force into his pulling back, choking her and knocking her off her feet at the same time. Her hands tried to break her fall, but her already injured leg took most of the damage. She quietly let a cry slip past her lips when she hit the ground, the room too quiet as the noise echoed off the walls.
Her leg had been bent and twisted by just getting thrown down, so the chances of her still being in okay shape were slim.
She hoisted herself up to her elbows, trying to lift the weight off her leg. She turned to Zion, watching as he hovered over her defenseless body. Her head felt like it was ringing in a thousand pounds, and her vision blended into itself.
If he wanted to hurt her, he should just get it over with now, it would at least give her something to feel.
The soreness ached through her body and her arms gave out, cradling her head before she hit the floor again. A struggled sound came from her throat as the pain got worse, and she knew why he had thrown her on that side. He was trying to make it worse for her. He wanted her to not be able to do it tomorrow. He wanted her to not be able to get up from the wooden floor.
"Shit, don't move," she heard from beside her as her leg felt like something had torn through it. The sound of many footsteps was heard around her, and she so badly wanted to fade into the darkness. But instead, she pushed herself up again, causing a muttered curse to come from who she thought was Inan standing beside her.
Bending her leg to stand up was agonizing, but she got through it. She always got through it. She watched as the once white bandage turned crimson, and she snapped her blurry eyes up to Zion. He had ripped her stitches. His face faded as she saw no emotion in it, and that destroyed another part of her being.
She stared into his eyes, practically hunting the grey orbs as they scanned her figure. She felt something dripping down her leg and knew that the blood had already soaked the bandage. She let him know how much she hated him through her eyes, something she could do with a lot of people, and then relaxed into her own pain.
Without a word, she turned towards the door and left the men and their shocked faces in the office behind her.
She limped the entire way to her room.
~~~
Zhara's eyes snapped open when she felt a tugging feeling on her body, a muffled sound coming from her.
She looked down to see Inan at the foot of her bed, tying another round of stitches in her thigh. His gaze was solely on fixing the wound, but she knew he found out she was awake by the way he started being more gentle.
He rubbed something cool over it before wrapping another bandage around it, lifting her thigh felt like a dead weight being pulled by her muscles. Her head still pounded from getting thrown on the ground, and the back of her neck was definitely sore with bruises.
She had no idea why he was doing this. Why was he always the one that was helping her? She didn't need help. She honestly would've wanted to bleed out in her bed, then she wouldn't have to go on that stupid mission tomorrow. He couldn't tolerate her, no, no one could. So why did he do this? He could be doing much better things with his time, it had to have been pretty late by now. The other men would just make fun of him for it, but then she remembered. They needed her to perform this mission. Something about that made her feel a bit better. If they wanted it done, she would at least need to be able to walk.
She craned her neck to watch as Inan finished his work, not touching her more than he needed to, much to her appreciation.
She turned her head away from him, only to look out the window. She felt like there was something squeezing her chest, clenching her heart. She didn't like the feeling, it made her wonder if she would actually start crying. She hadn't cried in a long time. She didn't know the last time she cried, and maybe that was a bad thing.
He pushed himself off the bed and grabbed his suit jacket off the foot of the bed, but not before putting a pain reliever right next to the tall glass of water on her nightstand.
She had nothing left to hope for. She didn't need hope. She was going to prove them wrong, whether or not it killed her in the process.
He looked down at her as he hovered over the side of the bed she was laying on, and she met his gaze with her own. He could see the gratitude in her eyes, she didn't have to speak. He assumed she was able to do that with anyone and any emotion, referring to the look she gave Zion earlier.
He gave her a curt nod before turning away from her limp body and exiting the room. She watched the door shut, and the light from the hallway dull out, along with the last bit of spark inside of her.
~~~
Flynn watched as his best friend ran on the treadmill in the training room, who was occasionally cursing when her injured leg would buckle under the stress.
It was barely eight in the morning, and Zhara was pretty sure was teetering on the edge of death. She had made a promise to herself to prove them wrong, and she sure as hell was gonna do it. So, to fulfill that covenant, she got up at dawn and worked out, preparing her body for the intense experiment it would have to undergo. She had already drank at least three bottles of water during her run, so her system would be fully cleansed and she wouldn't cramp up tonight.
She had taken that pain reliever Inan had left for her and ran through the stinging. She lost track of how much time she had been running, she was only focused on the fact that if she was gonna do something she hated, she would make it look easy to them.
"Are you gonna keep staring or go get me some breakfast?" she asked breathlessly, turning to her friend who was standing in the doorway. Flynn chuckled and shook his head as he pushed himself off the wall, walking towards her as she turned off the speed and stopped running.
"How's your leg?" he asked as she reached for her water, stepping off the machine. She raised an eyebrow at his stupid question. What did he think?
"Just peachy," she replied, sitting on the cool bench near the large windows. He tilted his head at her knowingly, and she knew he wanted a real answer.
"It hurts like a bitch, what do you want me to say?" she scoffed, sliding on her hoodie after wiping her forehead. She looked down at the new bandage Inan had put on it last night, and all the painful memories hit her like a wave. She was suffocating in exhaustion, but not because she was actually tired. She was fed up with living here, and it had only been a day and a half.
"I don't know, Z. I want you to say you care. I want you to say that you want to live through this, but we don't always get what we want," he snapped, turning towards her with begging eyes. She kind of thought he was out of line for saying that, but she did ask.
"I don't care or want to live through this. At this point, we both know I have nothing to live for," she admitted, standing up before Flynn grabbed her wrist. He yanked her over to him, capturing her in his hold as he wrapped his arms around her. She gasped in the surprise of the sudden affection, and she kinda wanted to punch him.
"You have so much to live for, why can't you see that?" he muttered into her hair. She was about to snap at him when she realized he was sad about this, too. It wouldn't do anything if she just got mad at him.
"Because of this, Flynn. I'm stuck here and I can't do anything about it. I'm just trying to survive until I actually can't anymore," she confessed, clenching his black shirt in her fists. She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, feeling that this was just a few seconds of clarity she could get before getting chased back into reality.
"I wish it didn't have to be you. I wish they could've left you out of this, but you just had to be a Di Maggio," Flynn bleated, causing her to grin slightly. What are the odds, right?
"You know, you're still important to me, you piece of shit," she slapped the back of his head, holding back a laugh as she pulled back, hoping his demeanor is a little lighter. He was smiling stupidly, so she felt a little relieved as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and walked with her towards the door.
"You still gonna get me breakfast?" she asked as they walked out into the hallway.
He snickered at her and slapped the back of her head this time.
~~~
"You have four minutes to disable the tracker without alerting the planter and the origin, if you can't get it removed within that amount of time, just destroy it and remove all trace of yourself," Ren explained as he wired Zhara up, hooking the earpiece to the wire that goes into the battery latched in her leather jacket. They were at the base, and literally, everyone was watching as they prepared for this. The car ride here was full of a scowling Zhara and an angry Zion, who had to listen to Ren explaining everything she needed to do during the twenty-minute drive.
"How do I know the difference between one of your guys and an enemy?" she asked as he clipped the tool kit onto the waistband of her black jeans. Her gun was resting in a reachable spot near the kit, and her knife was sitting in its holder around her thigh. Luckily, she had gotten extra bandage support on her wound, thanks to Inan, so the pain had lessened.
"Our guys all have the visible mark on their neck, but if you can't recognize it from a certain distance, they will be wearing all black with a white and red band around their left arm," he clarified, tightening the loops in the attachments in her jeans, which didn't bother her as much as she expected. She nodded and looked over Ren's shoulder, seeing as the computers he had said up were right beside the desk Zion was sitting at, along with all of his right-hand men standing around it.
"Am I permitted to kill an enemy if needed?" she asked, not wanting to make that mistake and suffer for it later. He looked over his shoulder at Zion, who nodded at him quickly.
"If it questions your ability to succeed in the mission, then yes. But if not, try to keep your hands clean," he answered, attaching the hidden camera to her jacket collar. He had said it would help when he had to assist her in snapping the wires and disconnecting the main energy source.
"You need to climb up to the first satellite level and the tracker should be tied around one of the metal bars near the first antenna. Whatever you do, do not come in contact with any of the energy sources. It will alert the closest police department and the bastards who planted it in the first place," he warned, walking back over to the computers. She nodded and took a deep breath. This was going to be way harder than she expected, and the only easy part would be running to and from the base.
"The idiots will be patrolling cautiously, but they can't be seen either, so you most likely won't have to encounter one. Watch for snipers," he said casually, and her heart hammered in her chest. If she was terrified, she sure as hell wasn't showing it to any of the men. She tightened her ponytail and shook out her tight muscles and rolled her shoulders. She was to sprint down to the cell tower when the guards were doing a shift switch, or right when Ren told her to do so. She was kind of relying on him to survive through this.
"Camera's on, mic works, and she's completely wired," Ren said, basically to himself as he checked the screen that was lighting up the main office. There was a back door in the corner, the one she would be exiting out of to get to the tower. She walked over to it and stood near it, her stomach doing flips as she breathed in and out.
"Don't fuck this up," Zion ordered, causing her to smirk at him. She could if she wanted, and then die, and then watch this fall apart from Hell.
"As you wish, Capo," she winked in his direction before turning towards the door, hearing the beeping of the computer in her ear. At least the earpiece was working.
"Go on the third signal, Raven," Ren said, leaning back in the seat as he watched the computer. Her eyes gleamed at the nickname, something that sort of calmed her. She nodded her head and listened for the third beeping tone, clenching and unclenching her hands.
Second tone.
She took a deep breath and muttered an Italian blessing to herself.
Third tone.
She threw open the door and did what she did best.
Zhara Di Maggio ran like hell was chasing after her.