Lola Williams is exhausted from the same schemes and the same easy kills every day of her existence. Working as an assassin for the French mafia was supposed to be exciting but lately it's been more than lackluster.
It isn't until another easy kill...
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Fuck. Pacing back and forward In the tiny space was only adding to the agitation of the conversation I just had. I slam my fist into the wall and I feel the skin on my knuckles splinter. He had some kind of nerve to talk to me like that. How dare he?
Lola Williams. The way my name rolled off his tongue sparked a deep fury in me. I oughta rip his tongue out of his mouth. Who did this guy think he was? I mean, sure, he was the son of one of the greatest Italian mafia leaders of this century but still. My mind couldn't help but focus on the stores I'd heard about him.
I mean, it was fine, I was a strong woman who could do anything. I would be fine, at least that's what I want to believe. I let my mind mull over the morbid thoughts of what his soon-to-be revenge will be like. For the first time in a while, I feel a spark of fear erupt inside of me. I only focused on the fear for a second because underneath the fear was a stronger feeling that was growing by the second: pure excitement.
I exhale before exiting the room and slamming the door behind me. I walk over to him and stare at his limp body. His chest rose and fell ever so softly and I frowned at the passed-out man. I walked over to a button on the wall and pressed it. A small beep signals that I've effectively contacted my dad.
"Yes, Lola?"
"Come get him," I reply with a hint of exhaustion. I'm so ready to get this shit over with and I know he can hear the aggravation in my voice. A sudden boom echoes through the house and I look up at the ceiling as dust falls
"What the hell was that?"
There's no response for a moment and that's when I hear the gunfire and shouting. A controlled panic shoots through me. Shaky, urgent, and fearful all come out in the way my father yells, "Run, Lola, now!" "Dad!" I scream in alarm just as an exploding noise comes from some faraway place in the house and through the intercom.
Another voice I've never heard of before meets my ears over the shouting.
"We got one of 'em, boss."
Thoughts race through my head as I wonder who the hell that voice belongs to. There's no way I know that voice and an unfamiliar chill trickle inkle finestttfinestdenly, I hear my full government name and the crashing of doors while men try to flee the building. They wouldn't flee if it was a rival mafia, no...
Fuck, we've been swatted. This isn't the first time law enforcement has tried to get us. We usually evaded them by disappearing but our guard ady down because of the Italians attacking we made their invasion easier than it would've been. Today was not our best day. Grabbing a hold of my rifle and pistol, I quickly ran to the door located on the far left of the basement. It leads into a small tunnel that goes directly into an alleyway.
