An Assassin's Trust [Watty Awards]

Chapter Seventeen

A/N: Guys!! I finally fucking did it! I wrote a chapter and during probably the busiest time of the year! I know I should be writing more frequently than this, but I am still so proud of myself! I'm going to do better :') Thank you to everyone who has stayed with me and to my new readers as well. I appreciate you all so much, please leave a comment with what you think!

Without further ado, please enjoy Chapter Seventeen of An Assassin's Trust...

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We parked just outside the gates of the Rutherford Estate and made our way over to the entrance where our target was confirmed to be. I made sure to leave Sam behind with specific instructions for an escape plan, should he need it. However I had a feeling that his stubbornness would get the better of him and he'd end up doing the exact opposite of what he was told. I don't know why I let myself get convinced into bringing him on this mission, it was already proving to be a distraction.

I regained my focus as Julian intertwined our fingers just before approaching the front entrance, mimicking the perfect newly wed couple that waited just before us. It was time to get into full character, I needed this kill to be quick and simple. In and out. Back to Sam as soon as bloody possible.

      "Names?" There was a tall man in a sleek Armani suit and a headset, standing at the entryway of the gigantic mansion belonging to our target Cristof Perovsky. As Julian gave our names, I discreetly surveyed the area, taking in all of the possible escape routes that aligned the mansion. I noticed huge vines going up the sides of the massive estate, reaching up to the windows on the highest floor. Those would prove to come in handy if we really had to flee this place.

     "Ah yes, right this way Mr. And Mrs. Smith," said the tall man as he signaled us to walk on through as the previous couple. I did my best to not let my eyes roll out of my head at the alias Julian picked for us.

    "Are you bloody serious? Mr. and Mrs. Smith?!" I whisper-yelled to Julian through clenched teeth. This buffoon really picked the most obvious god damn couple assassin name in history! He must have gone mental or he just really wanted us to get fucking caught.

   "What? I think it's fitting!" Julian whispered back as we made our way towards the laughter and clinking of glasses, guiding us through the grand foyer. I responded by giving our interlocked fingers a good squeeze, hoping he'd pick up on the disapproval. I would definitely be in charge of picking the names next time, if we made it out of here alive of course.

The interior of the mansion was absolutely stunning. I took in the exquisite chandeliers that lined the high ceilings, they seemed to go up at least 5 meters(16 ft) to the top. I maneuvered over the marble flooring, allowing my heels to signal the arrival of a bad bitch. We finally reached the center of the residence, though could you truly call it that if the owner only resided there for about 2-3 weeks out of the year?

There were approximately 50 other guests mingling around the large room, some renowned diplomats whose only agenda was to help the struggling people of their countries and some whose plans involved using those same people as stepping stools for their own selfish gain. Yeah, it seemed like a great crowd.

    "Champagne?" A brown haired waitress holding out a metal tray with several glasses of a bubbly delicious liquid. Julian and I each took one just to blend in with the other attendants, for this job we needed stealth and precision, so it was best that we only took a few sips to remain focused on our mission. At this same moment, I glanced over at Julian to see him downing the entire champagne flute like he was throwing back a shot of tequila at the local pub. He then reached out and grabbed another glass before the waitress could walk away. This time I returned his foolish actions with a long glare, hoping the figurative daggers would actually pierce through that thick skull of his. I was honestly working with a man-child.