U.N.P.L.A.N.N.E.D// Illya Kuryakin

3.

As he walked toward me I imagined all the possible scenarios:

1. Another hole in the corridor wall

2. He tries to choke me? Or kill me? 

3. He starts yelling some random words in Russian until he is satisfied?

To my surprise, he just sat closely across from me. Even from far away you could see his tension, the way his shirt stuck to his arms; and his heavy, uninterrupted stare - which, by the way is not uncomfortable at all, although his eye were... dense, dense with stubbornness but also with a will of not letting go of any emotion.

Then, he took a breath then sealed his lips shut. It gave me the impression he was going to say something but then regretted it.

Before I could say anything, they all came out of the 'meeting room' with an amused expression. Possibly the amused expression will be somewhat not related to me; I hope its not, and my self-revolving thoughts were not helping in any way.

"Illya" the American guy called him, in a matter of seconds he was already down the corridor. From what I gathered this alliance was of both of the powers of the cold war and some more. So probably checking some kind of mission? Since the other man was holding a thick file - I just don't know and probably making these things up since I'm left with nothing. I guess I do have to stay here, I can't do anything on my own and I hate myself for my incompetence.

My parents are still my parents no matter what they did. They still gave birth to me and raised me and -

"Hey - " Gaby started "What's her name again Napoleon?" she then whispered not so successfully. The guy apparently called Napoleon reached out for the files and read through, "Alba Sinatra"

"And you did not know you Father was in the Mafia?" Illya rhetorically asked, "Ha ,with that name."

"So, Alba, we had a long discussion and we finally have decided to include you on our latest mission since you probably know half of the mafia networks and family friends - without realisation. Plus they might want to reach out to you since you are only one left in the family now."

"And, just refresh my mind, why should I help you?"

"Because - because its the mafia!" they stuttered, the question taking them by surprise. Their reaction a clear 'why won't you?! its the mafia!' But what they were talking about were the generous people that had been there throughout my life, the thought of them being in a criminal organisation never crossed my mind. What if they were right and these people were wrong?

I've always hated when people make assumptions based on nothing, no knowledge - no proof, nothing. That was my limit really, I thought they would've been more... just more... just more of everything.

I turned and looked around. The problem was where should I go? My house? Probably not the safest place. Giuseppe? Certainly not since he would just bring me back here. Just then I thought about the real opportunity that was being offered here. Maybe even a double game..

Noticing that Illya was looking at me looking as he knew what I was thinking, I quickly asked in what the mission consisted in and what was my role in this wonderful theatrical play. Firstly, Napoleon started explaining that as the mafia was known everywhere but the proof was lacking - well thanks for the clarification, I've lived here my whole life and I wouldn't know that? - they needed to collect as much as they could.

The core of mission consisted on getting close to the new mafia leader (suspecting a new one since there are rumours the 'old' one has been in an 'accident') by pretending Napoleon wants to 'join' since he married me - fake marriage. I repeat fake. 

"Sounds reasonable. You should be glad I'm your wife to be" I said feeling relieved, I processed quickly. I came up with a plan. I know what I will do.

"Actually that I now think about it, how would it be to swap Nap with Illya since he is the most agile one? And then pair Nap with Gaby on practical collection? Illya is not a fan of paperwork and I think my head is at stake if I put him down for the intelligent side of it and not his brutal strength" the apparent leader mockingly reconsidered.

This actually amused me, the idea that Illya was not ideal for the real, brainy mission but only for a display of strength and an act amused me loads. However, after my little triumph of degrading Illya I realised that now I had to be his wife. Wait no, Illya had to be my husband. Fake. Fake of course. That was going to take me a whole new lot of energy back firing his killer instincts and arguments.

I just have to get him to get sick of me before I do.