When a swivel of events land Jaslene Romero in jail, it's up to Aarirai to get her out. Desperate to release her sister-by-heart from the concrete block she's been thrown into, Aarirai Andal gets help from Lysias Efah, the only man in New York City...
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The sky reflected New York city's mood everyday. The dull blueish grey skies paired with fluffs of white and dark across the expanse was a everyday vision to the passersby.
My fingers drummed against the steering wheel as I unconsciously hummed the song pouring through the radio. My gaze drifted to scene in front of me, taking in all the joyous children stumbling and pulling their parent's hands to get to school faster, the awkward teenagers trying to get through the crowd, the adults who held a phone in one hand and a styrofoam cup in another, trudging in the mass to get to work on time, and the elder groups taking their time to mosey around. I scanned the crowd to find any potential threats to our mission. The city of dreams had me fascinated, even after being my humble abode for almost four years.
This is me, observant, yet, distracted as ever during a mission. My ability to sense things was always heightened, I'd blame it on precognition. Precognition seems a bit too psychic, so I stick to calling it my "spidey sense".
I could hear Jas through our connected earpieces, luring in the not-so-innocent pig. I'd pity the man for the death he's going to face, but this was his repentance for all the misdeeds he'd committed.
Listing a few, he'd stolen drugs from an ally's shipment and sold them to young teenagers, verbally and physically assaulted girls in multiple underground clubs, broken omertà and the most disgusting part is that he's had a history of attempting to rape women.
That was the tipping point for me and Jas, we decided that he must be gone, to somewhere far below the earth.
That's what me and Jas did. We took out the disgusting, discriminating, pejorative arses across the world who thought they had the right to do whatever and not face consequences.
To the normal world, we were students studying fashion design and architecture at Parsons, but the underground world knew better. The power and respect we'd earned due to our skill to execute and lead in a short span of three years seemed astonishing to some and caused envy amongst others.
I trained as an assassin for a year, anywhere, anyone, any weapon, you'd see the opponent perfectly executed. But I grew to have an unusual comfort in using knives. The weapon stole my heart when I set my hand over it. The cold metal, the slender form with sharp features, the wicked glint it strikes under light, and absolutely effortless usage had me smitten.
I split from my group post training to save innocents who've been dragged into the underworld without consent, and provide them with a better life to my strengths.
That's when I met Jaslene.
The woman was on a mission at Sapphire, a club owned by Keith Jerna, a sophisticated man with an I'm-a-crazy-bitch-with-a-wild-soul attitude. You mess with him, you'll meet his flavour-of-the-month bodyguard, you mess with his club, you'll either see me or Jas. With his strip club well known to be the perfect location for dealings, the rainbow baby knew his influence in the underground world of New York. He made it the perfect location for majority of our executions.
