Dark Times

I: Angioletto

Dark Times

Chapter I

Katerina L. Wild

I WAS ONE OF THOSE people who always believed that everything is decided and ran by these decisions, not fate. Fate in my world was a myth, and one got to where they were based upon the choices in their lives. I decided to become what I am today, and the fact that my beliefs were questioned strongly by the career I knew I had chosen, I had to live with that decision.

Even if part of my job required many assassinations. I always tried to tell myself that they deserved it - all the men and women I had killed were bad, evil and cruel killers and drug and gun smugglers who got what they deserved. But never in my life did I actually regret choosing this job until now.

I stood in a tight black dress, back pressed against the wall, and heels already attempting to murder my poor feet, in what was perhaps the most waited for event in all of New York City—well, important for those who had knowledge of the world underneath the skin.

It was a ball, held every year and organized by the world's four biggest criminals. Niall Horan was a cute, innocent looking blonde, who ran the drug business in Dublin. Alongside him, and also in the drug smuggling world was Liam Payne, who ran the England and Italian division of the party.

Then there were the gun smugglers, Louis Tomlinson, in charge of North America, which was perhaps the biggest business of all. Tomlinson was also their leaders right hand, and that leads me to the reason I was there.

Both drug and gun smuggling world was controlled by the most powerful, dangerous, and damningly attractive man.

Harry Styles

Now let me tell you a little something about this man, at least, from what I know.

According to my data, the 25 year old made all his power at the age of sixteen, after successfully killing and taking over the grounds of the previous king of this business, Arthur. Now I don't know if that is true or not, but what I did know is that it was my mission is to kill him, and from what I've heard from my advisers, all the previous people who have tried to kill him disappeared and have never been seen since.

Now apart from the fact that I absolutely hate dance balls, and long dresses, I'm pretty sure everyone knows why I am regretting even getting involved in this type of work.

I am usually very confident in my work, but there's something about the way he stood in a balcony, directly across from me, in a black tuxedo, with his curly hair a mess and viridian eyes harder than concrete screamed too much work.

My eyes never left his stance, but not yet had he looked at me. I had a drink in hand, dark red lips barely pressing against the cup, and my hands twitched every five minutes for the opportunity to come.

As if feeling my hard stare, or perhaps, impatience, his eyes met mine, and for a small second I froze, and looked away quickly. A shiver ran down my spine and I took in a deep breath before taking a gulp of my drink. His eyes were so intense, I wasn't honestly expecting him to look at me.

And linger there.

I could feel his eyes on me, as I walked to return my cup, and spoke softly, I had a microphone on my bra and back in the agency they could hear absolutely everything. "Target found." I whispered, as the bar tender went to fetch me another drink.

"Good." I heard a low voice reply. "Try to isolate the target and complete the job. If compromised, escape immediately." I could hear my chief reply.