𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗔𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥 ⚔︎

22

it was very strange for giovanni to be waking up in a bed that was actually his own. rays of sunlight streamed through the half-closed blinds over the window, casting thin lines of gold around the whole room. he slowly peeled his eyes open and took a look around his bedroom — his bedroom. his very own apartment, all for him.

the time on the alarm clock read half past eight in the morning. he got out of bed and stretched his arms high above his head, shirtless, grey sweatpants clothing his legs. he walked down the hallway to the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast.

standing on the balcony with a cup of espresso in hand, giovanni looked down at his view over 1st avenue and the concrete jungle. the city was humming with noise from the morning commute, the sky a cerulean blue with a few dark clouds looming in the distance over harlem. the skyscrapers ahead of him stood tall and unmoving, their height differences giving the impression of a congregation of people, all of whom seemed to stare right back at him. below, rows and rows of cars piled together amongst metal buses and yellow taxi cabs, the honking of their horns and the occasional screech of a tire as somebody got too impatient to wait in the queue.

it had been a week since eddie had told him to follow william turner, — and as of today, september 1st, giovanni still had yet to fulfil his mission — but looking down over new york with a cigarette between his lips, he decided that today would be the perfect day to begin.

after breakfast, he brushed his teeth and got dressed into one of his very best suits: armani, black with dark grey pinstripes, with a silk plum and gold patterned tie. standing just beside the front door, he opened the top drawer of the mahogany dresser and raked through to find his camera, which eddie had bought and given to him, never before used. giovanni tucked it into the inside pocket of his blazer, tight and perfect beside a trusty pistol. he put on a pair of rayban sunglasses and left the apartment.

due to not having a car, he headed to the nearest garage to rent one for a few hours — maybe for the whole night, if it was needed — preferably something black or dark coloured, something that wasn't memorable if he was spotted, god forbid. emerging from the apartment building, he stepped out into the late morning sunlight on the sidewalk, taking a swift look around to make sure he wasn't being followed.

he took a look around the garage on east 81st. one of the young salesmen joined him, dressed in a white polo shirt tucked into high-waisted black trousers. nearer to the back and beside a metal post, a particular car caught giovanni's eye — an all black mercedes benz 190.

giovanni stopped and pointed at it, not glancing at the salesman. "how much for this one?"

his accent took the worker by surprise — giovanni could always tell whenever he startled people. the youngster's eyebrows raised as he spoke. "well, that depends, sir. how long would you like to rent it?"

giovanni glanced at his watch. "hm, let's say... eight, nine hours?"

the salesman nodded. "nine hours?"

"nine hours, please."

"that'll be $180."

giovanni dipped a hand into his trouser pocket, relieved to find a money roll that he had forgotten to take out from previous endeavours. since moving into the apartment, he had little rolls of money hidden just about everywhere, in every room, readily available for taking out at a moment's notice. he lifted off the rubber band and counted $180 from the thick wad, handing it to the worker.

"thank you. i'll go and get your keys."

first, he drove all the way downtown on roosevelt drive, stopping at foley square. rush hour had ended an hour ago, but still, the traffic wasn't anything grand. he parked across the street from the FBI headquarters, looking up at the building with narrowed eyes. it was tall, but it was in no way threatening — not to him, at least.