Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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POV: Valentino "And life went on. It was not the same. But it went on." - d.j An unsent letter from Valentino
In life, we have choices.
Obviously, some are easy while others are hard. It's supposed to be a simple principle that the choices you make will lead you to your desired path, and I lived by this for years until I met her.
While we can control what decisions we make, we can't control the unexpected outcomes that twist us on a different path of life and embark us on a new journey.
There are a million possibilities with one opportunity, and if I went back in time to remake the most pivotal decision of my life, then I would choose you every single time.
Even if it was what eventually hurt us, I wouldn't change a thing, and I hope you know that. Love, Valentino 🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
I'll never forget the rush of adrenaline that a mission gives me.
The nerves are running through my veins, and my mind is clear despite the chaos. I've trained for this since I was 12, so it should be no different, but I know that this mission will be my last one.
Once I handle this, I'll go through with the plan I've had for years. Freedom. I can taste it on the tip of my tongue. Just one more mission, and Brooklyn won't have to worry about me not coming home at night. I left in the middle of the night with her still asleep in my arms, and I have every intention of coming back before she wakes up.
"Adrian Russo, 6 oclock." Ava's voice fills the earpiece in my ear. She's controlling the security systems while my men blend into the shadows of the room. I'm armed with the knives tucked in my socks, but I walked in like the cleanest man alive. Perks of having a hacker, I guess.
Servers work the room, carrying the finest drinks. When I said The Oval was exclusive, I meant it because only 25 people are invited each year. That's good, though, because it'll make finding my target easier.
The Oval is more secured than the Pentagon and White House combined, and it's going to be hard to just kill a man. Like Adrian Russo, who's making his way toward me now. He's the owner of one of the most successful tech companies, but somehow he seems to lack common sense.
I've never liked the guy, but I'm not worried about him.
A common nod, "Valentino."
"Adrian."
I let him talk on and on about future business deals and opportunities while searching the room for the man I'm really for. I should've dealt with James when I had the chance. It couldn't be anyone except him. I know it. Only he has the classified information and men to pull off a move like that. The plan is simple but efficient.
After all the activities, meal after meal is served. James loves to eat his face off, so I know he wouldn't think twice about indulging in each meal. Even if it has poison in it.
Not enough to kill him, but enough for my men to get him out without any commotion. It wouldn't matter anyway. I've planned a multitude of events to distract the guests from his disappearance.
This will go right.
Adrian is in the middle of talking about his new wife when Ava catches my attention again: "Uhhh, boss, did you know that your brother would be here?"
My what?
I'm in disbelief before I feel the familiar chill my brother brings every time he walks into the room. I swear Russia's coldness follows Dima like a freaking cloud, but I can ignore that. What I can't ignore is him walking in with my target, James, like they're on a freaking date.
How did Dima even end up here?
The Oval is international, sure, but it's always attracted the same number of people each year. Unless they get killed like my old partner, Already, the plan is turned sideways, and my men don't know what to do.
Like I said, we can't just kill him. Gears turn at rapid speed in my head as I weigh the pros and cons of each option.
The only thing I came up with was to talk to the devil himself. Use myself as a distraction while the servers, and also my men, switch from the poison with the main courses to the side dishes.
We can't wait and risk not getting him at all, so one snack at a time will do until he heads into the bathroom.
Dima's eyes are on mine as I walk towards him and James. "Hello, gentlemen." The words slide smoothly off my tongue like butter. They repeat the phrase, and we slide into fake pleasantries. Heaviness lays thick in the air, but I don't know if it's because they know something they shouldn't or are uncomfortable.
I'm praying it's the ladder.
"Pimento croquettes, sir," the server says, coming and offering the plate to us, but only James takes it. Good. The plan is starting to get back on track before I hear Ava's voice again: "I'm losing the system."
What?
Ava losing a system is near-impossible. There are too many complications with this mission for my comfort. It can't be a coincidence. I want to call it off, not only for my sake but for my men's. Trouble lingers in the air, and I know the others feel it by the way the room is eerily quiet.
"Trap the mouse with cheese and use that to trap the cat." My father's familiar words run a shiver down my spine unwillingly. It was one of the first things he taught Dima and me. We used it to kill not only one businessman but two by pinning them against each other.
By the time I turn and pull out my gun, it's too late. Gunshots are fired from the balcony above at rapid speed. Blood sprays onto me, and screams ring in my ears.
I signal for my men, but none respond. Not even Ava. They're all looking at Dima like obedient dogs, waiting for their next order.
I turn my head left and right, watching the men drop around me. The previous polished floors are tainted with the blood of men I knew for years, but not one bullet comes my way. He's saving me for last. My brother is sadistic, and this proved it.
When the gunshots stopped, Dima spoke only low enough for me to hear, "You don't know how long I wanted to do this."
Although I'm at death's door, I joke anyway, "Let me guess, since you first saw me."
I think I have a good crowd because Dima punches me so hard that I have to take a step back.
I'm about to throw another punch when I feel something hard hit me against my head, and then everything goes black.
