No Strings Attached

CHAPTER 1

"So you made the kill?" my grandfather asks, his lips curling up in disgust, his eyes filled with hatred as he looks at me.

"Yes," I grit out, fighting the urge to spit on him. Every fucking time he sends me on a mission he asks the same question, as if I've ever not killed the target. Treating me as if I'm some sort of simpleton.

He gives me a short nod, taking a sip of his whisky, "Your next hit is a man called Martin Giovanni, he's in an alliance with the Italian-French Mafia, doing work for them. I want you to take care of him by the end of tomorrow,"

I nod and stand up, ready to leave this stupid fucking conversation. "You're dismissed," he spits out, "And don't fail this next hit, it's an important one,"

I roll my eyes and begin to walk out, "Anastasia did you hear me?" he snaps, his eyes boring into the back of my head, "Yes Grandfather, I won't fail," I groan, walking out before he can make another snide comment.

I close the door behind me and go upstairs to my floor, checking the time on my phone; 1:47, enough time to have a shower before my 2:30 client.

I walk into my room and head straight for the ensuite, throwing off my blood-splattered blouse and jeans, and tossing them into the washing basket.

I turn the shower on and take my hair out, massaging my head as the tightness from my ponytail sets in.

I run my hands through my hair and step into the shower, letting the hot water soothe my aching body. I pour some shampoo and rub it into the roots of my hair, trying to get it clean enough so my client won't turn their nose up at me. I massage the conditioner into the ends of my hair, rinsing it all out when I'm satisfied with how clean it is.

I scrub my body down, trying to get the blood out of my fingernails, vigorously scraping them with the nailbrush.

Once they're clean enough, I turn the shower off and step out, squeezing the excess water from my hair and wrapping a towel around my body.

I get a separate towel and start drying my hair, putting it up in a bun as I walk out into my room. I go to my walk-in robe and throw on some black jeans and a white tank-top, heading back to the bathroom to finish drying my hair.

I plug the hairdryer in and start drying my hair, my eyes watching my reflection, travelling over my tattoos. The ink littered all over my skin, my favourite being the flower running down the back of my arm on my left, matching with Mom. I always wanted tattoos like her and Dad, and they said they'd do my first tattoo, a flower like Mom. That was until my Grandfather killed them when I was 14, still angry at them, feeling as though they stole his opportunity of becoming more powerful in the underworld.

He signed custody papers over me, keeping me under his authority until I turn 21, using me to get what he wants.

He wanted Mom to marry Luca De Santis, effectively making her the queen of the underworld with the power he had. Mom was already dating Dad by then, and Luca knew that and declined, angering my Grandfather beyond anyones original expectations. Which is why he's been getting me to slowly take out their allies.

We have the power to do that, not being connected to any Mafias, being our own separate sniper corporation. Mom and Dad worked a few times with the De Santis', and when I was little Mom would take me to Adelyn De Santis' cafe. It's always been one of my favourite places to go, as I knew Mom loved it so much, with her and Adelyn becoming friends over the years.

I still go there sometimes, but I don't think Adelyn recognises me, even though she'd always give me a cookie for free when I was a girl.

I finish drying my hair and brush it out, sliding into my black wedge boots and walking downstairs to the parlour.