Mila Babinski is the most deadly assassin the underground has seen in years... all the mobsters fear her... she even fears herself. Mila lost everyone she ever cared for at a young age and the time has now finally come to get her revenge. But when...
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*BANG*
An army of men swarm into the ballroom, guns raised at us hostages. The tanned, lean man at the front, who I assume is their leader, sends a signal to one of his men. Suddenly, the man's gun is raised and the band member, who was playing the piano is shot dead.
Silence swallows the atmosphere as his body plummets to the ground with a loud thud - leaving smears of red on the keys.
I expected most of the guests to frantically scatter towards the exits in an attempt to escape, but no - most of them have pulled guns out and have them aimed at the intruders.
What the fuck has my father sent me to?
I immediately turn to Mila beside me.
Fuck.
She's not there.
Where the fuck is she?
Panic overcomes me as I desperately scan the room. My gaze sets upon my mother who also has a gun drawn out, ready to shoot. Being Giuseppe's queen, she constantly has a target on her back, so there's no surprise at her response to all this. The only good thing my father has ever done is ensure that my mother is always armed and knows how to defend herself.
That I can thank him for.
Content with the fact that my mother is okay for now, I begin searching for Mila again. She was literally beside me. I hope she got out whilst she had the chance because who knows what shit is about to go down here.
Weaponless, I subtly move towards the corner of the tense ballroom, anxiously awaiting for someone to make the next move - my eyes still frantically look for a flash of blonde in the crowd.
"Which one of you fuckers took my second in command?" the man's boisterous voice booms throughout the room.
No one answers, which only makes the lunatic more agitated.
"Was it you Morelli?" he points his gun towards a muscular man, who is stood next to the bar.
Morelli. The name sounds familiar. I slightly recall Giuseppe mentioning him whilst he was yet again trying to convince me to take over when he steps down - or hopefully dies.
"What the fuck would I want with your filthy, thieving henchman?" the thick Italian accent comes blaring through.
"Wrong answer," a bullet is quickly lodged between his eyes.
