Mikhail

25

"Why was Floyd Wilson's body outside?" My father entered the sitting room, furiously glaring at me.

I glanced over at Noah, who then shrugged, as confused as I.

"You assume I have something to do with it?" My brows raised, unamused by the sudden interruption of my game of Candy Crush and the unnecessary blame.

Floyd Wilson was someone on my hit-list, but after my decision to stop the futile attempts of taking down the unbeatable business, I had hardly thought about who was still left, let alone completed any hits.

"Don't play games with me, Natasha. He would be one you'd go after," my father interjected, nearing me after rounding the couch Noah was laying on, "do not be this irresponsible."

"I'm not after anyone anymore," I gritted out, returning his glare without a second thought, "I didn't kill Wilson."

I watched as he roughly pulled out a small envelope from the pocket of his suit coat, before tossing it at me.

"Why would you leave a body outside?" Noah piped in curiously, and I huffed out, ripping the envelop open.

"If I had killed the bastard, there wouldn't be a chance of anyone finding the body," I assured the two in an unappreciative mutter, pulling out a small and white card.

"This will only add to the talk of the Devil's Mistress," my father raged, seating himself down by Noah's extended legs, "you can't be this reckless. And outside the estate for the world to see? You understand how dangerous that is..."

"I didn't-!" My voice raised, annoyed at the lack of belief and trust all of a sudden.

I cut myself off the moment I had opened the small card to find a handwritten message.

I cursed underneath my breath when my focus darted to the signature underneath it.

Who's next on your list, sweet girl?

Whatever weird and uncalled for romantic gesture this was, it could burn along with him. His insistence for me to now keep going with the doomed mission was irritating, and I had no idea as to why he would purposefully wish to further endanger the both of us and the families we worked for.

And for him now to singlehandedly continue the hits of the men I had been after, to either motivate me to return or to keep the ball rolling until I did return, was really pushing it.

"It was Mikhail," I informed the two coldly as I folded the card and slid it back into the envelop, "I'll handle it."

"What?" my father's fury only grew, his menacing glare silencing any further reply from either of his children, "how does he know you live here? I consider this as a threat. I'll speak with Mogilevich."

"Dad, I think it's more of a flirt than a threat.." Noah added lightly, a grin tugging up his lips.

"It's both," I murmured distastefully, more to myself than to anyone else in the room.

"In what world is something like this considered a flirt?" My father's anger directed over at my brother, who shrugged casually, unbothered and mostly finding this amusing. That was one way to deal with constant butting of heads in the house.

"In our world," he pointed out and my father fell silent, realising it was true.

"He has my location," I cleared my throat confidently, knowing such wasn't too far fetched of an idea or hard for him to acquire. I could easily find out Mikhail's location as well, but I feared doing so would only lead me down further in the rabbit hole that was him.