The Assassins Kill

chapter 1- home.

you know I'm no good- Amy Winehouse

Billie Bossa Nova- Billie Eilish

Stressed Out- 21 Pilots

useless- Omar Apollo

*jades pov*

*13 years ago*

"come here for a second jadey." my glowing, overly pregnant mother called me over from playing with my dad. i skip over to her, my pigtails flopping on my shoulders.

"what momma?" she takes my tan skin in hers, a solemn look on her face.

"i need to tell you something about your dad.." she tears up a tad, her hands are shaking. i scrunch my eyebrows together and she takes a deep breath.

"your real dad died before you were born baby, when i was pregnant with you." she pauses for a moment, looking away and taking another deep breath. she continues, this time her voice is shaky.

"your dad tried to hurt me baby. he was a very very bad man and he was a horrible person. caleb, was always there for me. i loved him, and he loved me. he didn't want to hurt me, or you." my tiny heart breaks.

"that's not my real dad?" a tear falls down my cheek and momma wipes it, another tear falling from hers.

"my dads- dead?" she purses her lips together, quivering. she nods.

"he was a bad guy?" she nods.

"am-am i a bad, guy?" she exhales, pulling me into a hug. she strokes my back, squeezing me.

"no jadey.. your a good guy. don't think that about yourself." she pulls away, pushing my brunette hair behind my ears. i don't understand.

~~~~

*13 years later*

i tossed my curled brown hair behind my shoulder, my heels clicking on the marbled floor. i lift up my dress while no ones watching, putting my gun back in my crimson garter. i check my watch, walking a tad quicker. when I'm out the doors of the plaza, i grab a taxi. a black car pulls over and i tell them where I'm headed, Le Meurice.

while I'm sitting in this disgusting car, i feel my pager buzz. yeah i know, retro! we have to use these stupid fucking things because the organization 'cant afford more expensive technology.' stupid. i look at the digital screen, seeing a unknown contact messaged me. i click the text and read it, not being fazed at all. it reads,

Julian Barley, 24, New York City

i roll my eyes, i love my job (that sounds bad considering what i do but, whatever). don't get me wrong, but i never fucking get a break. the cab stops, and the driver says something to me in french. i understand french, i spend a lot of my tine here- I'm not just not in the mood to listen. i hand him a 30 and hear him murmur something to himself. i step out of the car, putting my sunglasses on my face and standing up. i walk into the moderately luxurious hotel and walk up to Ivy's room.

Ivy Auclair is genuinely the best person I've ever met. besides for the whole- you know, assassin thing- shes literally perfect.

i knock on her door, and she opens it, ushering me to come in. i walk in and see Pierre sitting at a small table in the room. i sigh and sit down next to him, ivy follows me. there's tea on the table, i grab a cup and take a sip from the black tea. i set it down on the table, clearing my throat.