Selena

44 | Assassin

/AN/
I just realized this but...for the little aesthetics at the top of each chapter, you need to click on them to see the full thing.

SELENA M. ANDERSON

Some people really don't have a life.

One of those people is Weston Laurier.

Although he is set to take over for his father as leader of the American mafia, he just lounges around all day.

The American mafia basically has domain over all the mobs in the country. Like a peace-keeper of sorts.

That's how it worked with all the other countries as well. Italian's ruled Italy and followed the rules of other countries where they wanted to expand.

After doing my research on this target, I've realized that organized crime is actually organized.

Except for this guy.

He's a couple years older than me and is supposed to have a shit ton of responsibility, but for the past three weeks he's been home. Doing nothing and not giving me a clear shot.

Maybe he was on to me the first week, but since then I've been switching rooftops and changing disguises.

Plus he's an imbecile.

All I have to do is kill him and then move in close range to take his signet ring for proof of death.

The client wanted it done by the end of the month which is in two days, but I haven't been able to get a clear shot. I would normally go in for the kill, but being thirty-eight weeks is a hinderance. Sophia also told me I would be the next one dead if I did anything careless.

This would be the last hit I would need to do before my due date. It would also make me more than enough money to not have to every worry about my future.

Although I doubt future-godmother/aunt Sofia, would let me worry about a thing.

Between my little stakeouts, Sofia and I were getting everything together. Buying clothes, setting up a nursery, baby-proofing, etc.

Things I knew nothing about and I'm sure my parents never did for me.

Sophia's mom, Dr. Jillian Anderson, gave me about twenty books for 'expecting moms'. After pouring through them in one night, I actually felt slightly prepared and more terrified.

I doubt I'm going to be mother-of-year. But I do know that I'll be better than my parents were.

Lining up my scope, I study Laurier's movements as he moves to his bedroom. I see him hop onto the bed with a bowl in his hands.

This bitch is eating. Again.

I watch his hands funnel spoonful after spoonful of cereal into his mouth. I can only get a good shot on his hands and his crisscrossed legs on the bed.

He always managed to be just out of my scope.

Laurier's penthouse has a modern feel to it, but a dark tint was always turned on the main windows. The only time they ever turned off was when he had company over.

Let's just say he was a bit of an exhibitionist.

When he finally finishes eating his bowl of cereal painstakingly slow, Laurier stands up again and walks around his bedroom.

Moving slower than a damn sloth.

Laurier's entire body moves directly in front of the window. His back faces the window and his head perfectly in line with my crosshairs.