"I'm very proud of you son" the large man would mumble as he flipped through the newspaper. It would be Apollo's first mission. Of course, this man wasn't his father, but he had taken him in as his own when he joined the Mafia.
"Thankyou, sir." Apollo muttered softly as he played with his fingers under the table. The boss had given him a dirty job. Spy on her, get as much information as he could, and then kill her. That was his mission. He tried convincing himself that it would end well, but that small chunk of doubt continued to eat him up inside before he picked up the file carefully. The file contained different photos of the girl, papers which seemed like medical records, even a few trinkets which belonged to her. Small brass jewelry to be exact.
He took in a sharp breath before standing up and holding the file tightly by his side. He let the breath out as a sigh before giving the man a nod and heading towards the tall, wooden door. He turned the handle and opened the door but before he stepped out, the man spoke again.
"Apollo," he started. "Be careful, she's tricky at times." The man took a large drink from a mug before setting back onto the desk. Apollo hesitated before nodding softly.
Tricky? How is she tricky? He shook away the thought before heading to the front door of the manor. Once he was outside, he slinked into the drivers seat of his black Mustang. Sliding to the key into the ignition, he continued trying to convince himself it would go as planned. He would go to the bar she works at, strike up a conversation, get her outside, and hope she doesn't hate him.
Apollo slowly started to drive out of the drive way of the manor, heading towards the bar. He was already dressed in the proper clothing, and it was barely breaking dusk. As he made his way there slowly, he turned up the radio just enough to drown out the self deprecating thoughts. He knew he couldn't doubt himself. He had to have a shred of confidence in order to win the girl over. Even a sprinkle of doubt could blow the whole thing.
He carefully pulled into one of the very few open parking spots outside the bar which he knew would be packed. Before heading inside, he slipped a small handgun into the inside pocket of his black suit jacket, then checked himself in the rearview mirror. He fixed his shirt collar before hopping out of the car and locking it. As he approached the door of the bar the large man standing outside gestured for his ID. Of course, he flashed a fake one. Didn't want any evidence at the scene of course. He tucked his wallet back into his pocket and took a deep breath in before opening the door and walking into the bar, filled with deep blue lights and classical music while extravagant men and women stood in corners and sat at bars gracefully sipping their cocktails.
He had already closely examined the information within the file, and scanned the growing crowd looking for the girl in the pictures.
