KATERINA
Intuition is interesting.
It's like turbulent energy slamming into a hard object. Intuition can predict that you'll lose the battle before it starts.
I don't lose battles.
High above, concealed in the intricate network of beams and rafters, I lie on my stomach and stare through the lens of my rifle.
As much as the Russians considered themselves particular about their security, they couldn't tighten it enough to eliminate the invisible soldiers on the roofs—or the ones tucked in their ceilings.
In the grand, opulent ballroom, the air is thick with the murmur of conversations, the clinking of crystal glasses, and the gentle strains of a string quartet. Glittering chandeliers, their countless crystals refracting light into a myriad of colours, hang majestically from the high, ornate ceiling, casting a soft, enchanting glow over the assembled guests.
I narrow my lens's focus to the centre of the floor, where a beautiful blonde stands beside a man wearing a tailored black tuxedo—Boris and Polina Smirnov.
The former is a top player in the Russian mafia. And my latest target.
He's laughing at something another man said while clutching his wife, which in turn makes her squirm. Lucky for her, by tomorrow she'll be a widow, free from the confines of the disaster that is marriage.
I place my finger—on the verge of pulling the trigger.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a movement. A tall figure, effortlessly graceful, cuts through the crowd with the predatory elegance of a panther.
He exudes an aura of quiet power that makes people step aside without a word. His dark hair, perfectly styled, and his piercing brown eyes scan the room with an intensity that could waver over a lesser man.
He approaches Boris, his presence commanding attention. Dressed in a tailored suit that fits him like a second skin, he is the epitome of ruthless sophistication. His sharp jawline and the hard set of his mouth speak of a man who is used to getting what he wants, no matter the cost.
I zoom in until he's in full view.
He stops a few feet away from my target, his eyes locking onto Boris with a look that can only be described as lethal. He leans in slightly, whispering something in Boris's ear that causes the man to tense up, his laughter dying instantly.
Just then I see a flicker of movement near some rafters. I think for a second that I am just seeing shadows move. But then I spot a flicker of blue hair at the same moment the figure's gaze goes to me and they narrow.
They lift their own rifle, aiming for me.
I realise what's happening a moment too late.
One, someone already warned the Russians of this alleged assassination attempt.
Two, intuition is a faithful bitch.
The figure shoots, and I dodge.
Their bullet grazes my shoulder, causing my foot to slip sideways, and then I plunge backwards. Off the rafter and into the open air.
For a moment, it feels like flying.
I crash onto a banquet table, knocking fresh fruit to the floor.
They roll in every direction, into puddles of spilled mead and shattered crystal. I can't seem to get my breath. But that is the least of my concerns.
I open my eyes to see people crowded around me.
YOU ARE READING
God of Vengeance : Vaughn x OC
FanfictionKaterina 'Silencer' Romanova In our brutal world, there's no such thing as the truth. Lies overflow until they become a reality. I may not remember, but this war is far from over. I'll have my revenge. No matter who stands in my way. And when I fin...
