The Monster's Protégé

F O U R

M A R C O

Past

"Seriously, Viktor?"

"What on earth took you so long?" he groused, stepping inside the house.

I slammed the door with a force and turned around to face him. "What the hell are you doing here at this time?"

His gaze zeroed in on the pink woolen scarf of Jessica lying near the sofa and darted back to mine, questioningly. Then he muttered with a smirk, "Of course. Is she gone?"

"No," I said, walking towards the kitchen island.

I grabbed the bottle of scotch, two glasses and went back towards the sofa where he had already made himself at home. His presence ensured that I would be having a crappy night so I thought I might as well get drunk for that. His suit jacket was tossed over the arms of the sofa by now, while his legs rested on top of the table.

Viktor Romano was the present Boss, after his father, Alessandro Romano, stepped down, handing him over the reins of the criminal empire. Viktor, as the youngest Boss of the Mafia family, was invincible so far. It was difficult to say whether people bowed before him out of fear or out of respect–but either way, he didn't care. If I had to put my money, I'd say fear. He was ruthless, but he was also a headstrong strategist. In short—he was the eye of the storm.

While his brother, Dominic Romano was the second-in-command, I was his enforcer. A couple of years back, I would have been a happier man, engaging in the street fights, managing the clubs and spanking the women of my choice but this fucker had to drag me back to this godforsaken place.

Had it been anyone else, I would have flat-out refused. But I couldn't refuse him. He may not have been my blood, but he was more than that. He was both a brother and a friend. The man knew what loyalty was, honored it with his blood and for that I respected him.

But he was also a crazy fucker who thought it was okay to pay me a visit at 2 AM.

"You need to get laid," I said, nonchalantly and passed him the glass of scotch.

Viktor chugged down the whole glass in a swig in an instant. "Fuck. I needed this." Then he cocked his head to the side, looking at me. "Lock the door," he said, pointing to the room where Jess was fast asleep, I presumed.

"Door's locked. She's asleep and every room is soundproof," I assured him.

Viktor wasn't paranoid, but cautious. His business, the mafia business, wasn't exactly something that one could discuss so casually. We didn't know who wore what kind of masks until the facade drops and a bomb blows up in our own faces.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and slowly nodded. "I have an assignment for you."

I smirked knowingly. "Tell me the name and whoever he is, would be six feet under by tomorrow." That was how things had worked between us. He would give me a name and I'd finish the job for him. As simple as it got.

But this time something else happened. He ...smiled. Fuck. Now, I realized this was bad. Actually, way worse.

Viktor's default mode was anger or impulsiveness. The fucker never smiled unless he was really mind-fucking with the other person. And this time, I think, the other person was me.

The glass in my hand stopped midair and confusion stirred in my brain.

"You don't have to kill anyone," he said and gave a dramatic pause. And I actually fucking held my breath for what was coming next. "You have to train someone."

"What?" I spat out. Putting down the glass on the table with a loud thump, I turned to face him.

"It's a girl," he said and took out his phone. Punching in some security code, he opened a document page and passed it to me.