Shadow

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

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Natalia tells security that she is spending the night with a friend by the name of Anna. She pays this girl to come to the mansion every once in the while to portray a normal teenage relationship. They can't know who her true friends are- what they do.

Natalia sits in the passenger seat of the black Mercedes, waiting for Tomas to drive. He comes out of the house, duffle bag in hand.

Him and her will be in the Mercedes, and Aya and Roman are in the armored vehicle.

They start following the big black van, on their way to Granada.

Tomas and Natalia have been friends for a while. Tomas is British, but got involved with some Spanish drug lords, less civilized than Natalia's family business.

At the time, it was just Aya and Natalia doing missions. Roman and Aya weren't reunited yet.

They were hopping buildings, making their way back home. Tomas was in an alleyway, with three fatal gunshots. Blacking out periodically, and couldn't cry out for help.

Natalia saw, and Aya and her dragged his long body home with them. Natalia patched him up, and so their friendship began.

Natlia hasn't talked to anyone since she found out about her, being the 'heir to the throne. What does she say? What is she supposed to say?

"So..." Tomas says.

He grips the steering wheel nervously. He's been feeling different, around Natalia. Tomas knows something is wrong with her, she seems conflicted. But, she is like a deer, if you make one wrong move and scare her, she's gone.

"Are you ready for this?" He asks.

She mumbles yeah, as she stares out the window at the raindrops racing.

The car stays a bitter silence through the ride to the city. Natalia gets out as soon as the car stops, get's her duffle bag. And goes inside the vacation house, saying nothing to her team members. They look at eachother, "What's wrong with her?" Aya knows what's wrong. She's been with that girl for two years, conflicted. For once she's indecisive.

Roman steps on the creaky wooden porch, finding shelter from the rain. He walks in, Natalia is upstairs in her room. She's always giddy during missions.

The team walks in, sitting their stuff by the door. Getting out papers on their target.

This one is pretty easy.

Just another corrupt politician. 60 years old, but handsome.

Juan Hernandez.

Newly divorced, is going to be at Club Amnesia. Natalia agreed to seduce him at the club, easiest and fastest. That the boys protest, but don't show it. They know and respect that Nat is her own woman, and any protest would result in getting their asses whooped.

Natalia sits on the dusty bed upstairs, looking out the window with broken lines.

Another person to kill, she thinks to herself.

That does the same things as my father.

Tomas knocks on the doorframe as he walks in the door.

"Are you okay?" He asks her.

She stands up, "Yeah."

He stares into her eyes for a minute, and she walks closer. She seems taller, like some supermodel, but she's 5'2''.

She stands in front of him looking straight ahead with a 1000 yard stare. He sighs, and moves away. Watching her walk down the hallway, and down the stairs.

He wanted to give her a hug, and tell her whatever she was thinking, it was gonna be okay. That he was gonna help her- with whatever. It didn't matter.

Tomas sighs, and pushes back his long curly locks.

The team sits downstairs, planning out the killing of tomorrow night. They all sit at the rectangular table. Aya and Natalia on one side, Roman and Tomas on the other.

Aya informs the team, "So, here's the plan: Tomorrow at 23:00 Juan Hernandez will be at Club Amnesia in Granada. Natalia and Roman enter first. Juan labels himself as an Alpha Male. Roman and Nat are going to play on his emotions. When he sees a woman he wants, he asserts his dominance over her. Play along.-"

Tomas clenches his jaw and looks at the flower arrangement on the center of the table.

"Then, Juan will lead Natalia upstairs. Give it about 10 minutes, Nat slips some candy into his drink. I come in, telling him I'm Nat's sister. Hinting at a threesome, then I shoot the bastard in the back, we get the hell out of there. Tomas, will be doing surveillance."

Nat smiles, 'Alright then, I'm going to go for a run."

She pulls on her coat, along with the concealed carry belt that fits along her waist.

Natalia Perez, 5th generational donna of the Perez Mafia.

What would her team say? Besides Aya. The "do good" assassins find out their friend is to be crowned a killer within the week.

Nat starts picking up her pace, starting at a slow jog, her strong heart beating at a steady pace.

Then, she speeds up, and thinks about nothing. Running is an oblivion for her. Her legs start to feel as if she is running through concrete, and she smiles. After running five city blocks, she turns around to go back home.

By this time, it's roughly 9:00 PM. A blanket of night sets upon the city of Granada. She walks thinking about life distractedly. A larger pair of footsteps follow her. Nat takes a right around a block, the unlucky soul does too. She starts sprinting, around a dimly lit alleyway. And hides beneath the shadows, the man looks for her. She jumps from behind, ramming her knee to the back of his leg. Knocking his balance down. "Hey!" He yells.

She smiles, "You were going to kidnap me. How do you feel, knowing your life is in a woman's hands. That she can do anything she wants to you. You are simply a toy. That, my friend, is how sex slaves feel."

Natalia gets a look at his face and recognizes him, "Fabio."

This is one of her father's associates.

"Natalia Perez?" He smiles thankfully. Thinking that she was his friend.

"You waste of space," She grimaces.

Not in the right of mind, she uses the butt of the gun and rams it into his face. Blood splatters everywhere, all over her clothes. Red splotches all over the dismayed woman.

"This. Is. What. My. Father. Stands. For."

She backs away from the body. A cold man, pale, laying in his blood. Murdered by Natalia. The first crime she commited out of emotion. Her legs quiver, breaking down over the body.

Natalia picks herself up, staring at the blood all over her hands. She feels the copper smelling substance between her fingers.

Her training kicks in, Spain is not like America. If a criminal dies, they don't investigate into the murder. She pulls him beside the dumpster, with the rest of the trash.

Nat gets down on her knees and prays, "Jesús, forgive me."

Then she stands up shakily, backs up a few steps and walks home. Luckily no one is out, questioning the blood all over her face.

This kill wasn't an ordinary one, it was full of the rage and hatred she had been bottling up.

For the mafia.

Herself.

Her mother.

Her father.

Life.