Stella, so filled with fury, could barely dial the right number on the old landline phone. When she managed to do it right, she tapped her toes anxiously.
Stella: Come on! Pick up, you lowlife imp bastard!
She could hear him, the assassin, pick up the phone and take a breath.
Striker: Hello, ma'am. So, what is it?
Stella: What is it? What is it!? Why is that deadbeat not dead yet!?
Striker: Look. Lady. These things take time. You gotta wait for the right opportunity. Everything has to be just right.
Stella: And they have been! I didn't convince that cheating prick to walk around in the open so you could fail to kill him with TWO falling pianos!
Striker: Two? Damn, these thugs are idiots.
Stella: What thugs!? Have you been hiring other jackasses to do the job I paid you to do!?
Striker: Relax, ma'am. It's under control. I paid them with cash from your advance payment. I'm not expecting anything more from you besides what I'm already gonna get when the job is done. And I didn't pay them much. You'd be surprised how many hayseeds are willing to suddenly lose control of a steamroller or drop a piano on someone for a few dollars.
Stella growled. She had to admit that made sense. However...
Stella: Oh well that explains it. You being a wanted man and all. This all seems like a solid plan. Except for one tiny detail. You can't kill royalty with fucking pianos!
Striker: Well, yes, you can. Just not permanently.
Stella: Listen you little smartass! You still have an angel weapon! So stop fucking about and use it!
Striker: Let me finish! The jackoffs I hired aren't supposed to kill him permanently. Just kill him long enough for me to track him down to one location where I can sneak in and put a bullet in his head myself. A hospital, hopefully. I know how to get to a patient, usually involves greasing a few hands. If you brought him back to your palace though... that'd work so much better.
Stella: Look, if you can't do this yourself, maybe you should stop using those brainless dickheads and hire someone worth a damn!
Striker: Yeah, well, most competent folk ask questions. They get too invested in the details. The brainless goons I paid were meant to be easily disposable. If I hired another hitman, I'd have to off them. And unlike the weak id-jits I hired, they'd know not to put their head right in the guillotine. I'd be right back at step one. Finding a way to track and kill a demon without being spotted. There can't be any loose ends.
As much as she hated to admit it, Striker's explanations made perfect sense to her.
Stella: You... you... fucking damn it! Fine! But if you can't kill him or find someone who can, kiss your ass goodbye! I don't like being cheated! I have connections, you hear me! You'll be a dead man!
Striker: Don't threaten me you- !
Striker cleared his throat.
Striker: You don't need to worry, your highness. Your husband's gonna die, I'll make sure of it. So don't rush me. You've waited a long time for this opportunity, so you can wait a while longer.
Stella: I won't warn you again! Do whatever you need to do! Just kill him, or you're dead!
Striker: Whatever you say, your highness. I'll kill him. And I'll have a new plan of attack ready.
Striker slammed the phone down onto the receiver.
Striker: And I won't leave any loose ends. Blue blooded bitch.
YOU ARE READING
Murderous
FanfictionStella's plans to murder her unfaithful husband go wrong. Stolas knows. But a greater conspiracy is at play. One that will have everyone in his sphere of influence come together, for better or worse. There will be love, friendship, growth, and unde...