How to Raise an Assassin

CHAPTER 18: I DON'T FALL

Having Ash along was really cramping my style.

The target was a former mistress of some CEO of a rich tech company who was about to go public on her relationship with one of the world's richest men, ruining his marriage and possibly seeing half of his fortune go to his wife in a future divorce. Of course, he couldn't have that happen. That's why I was there to end her before she went public and ruined the hard work this man has toiled through to build up this company from a start-up to one of the world's best computer and video game software companies in the world.

Of course, none of this would be necessary if he kept it in his pants, but you know how men with money are. They think they can buy anything, from love to silence.

I guess that second part was true since I was at her downtown apartment about to shut her up for good.

Dressed in dark gray leggings, a black muscle shirt, and a false face that made me look like a redhead, Ash and I arrived at the apartment that was tended to by a doorman.

Since Ash wanted to tag along, I decided to use him in a way that would get him out of my hair. "I need you to distract the doorman."

Ash was dressed in black jeans, and a hoodie. "Sure, send the black guy to scare away the doorman."

"You wanted to come," I said, patting him on the back. "Go make yourself useful."

"And if I wasn't here?"

"I'd scale the back of the apartment and enter through her window."

"On the twentieth floor? Are you crazy? What if you fall?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't fall Ash. Now go distract the guard."

Ash put his hands in his pocket and was muttering stuff to himself about who knows what. He waltzed in front of the apartment, muttering louder.

"Damn Bulls can't even win against the crummy Knicks. I'm about to stop being a fan and join the Lakers bandwagon."

"Whoa kid," said the doorman. "The Bulls lost again? Glad I'm on door duty tonight then."

"It's like they don't even try anymore," Ash complained and faced the doorman. "Like how you lose against the freaking Knicks?"

"I feel you man," the doorman stepped forward beneath a lamppost that illuminated his dark skin. I was expecting the doorman to be white and for Ash to do something to scare him since Ash was dressed the part. But I guess Ash was versatile to distract people of all races. "But you can't abandon the Bulls. They have a great history. Jordan, Pippen..."

Ash dismissed him with a wave. "That was like a hundred years ago. They ain't got squat now."

While Ash was distracting the guard with basketball talk, I slipped in behind the doorman and took the elevator up to the 20th floor. So much easier than scaling the side of the building. I pulled out a sash with countless badges over it and put on a red cap.

I skipped down the hallway like a fruity girl and knocked on the target's apartment door. "Girl Scouts."

I heard the door unlock and the woman stared me down in her violet silk robe holding a cup of chardonnay. Why would she go public if her fling was hooking her up so well? My father would say it was greed. Poor people like to bleed the rich dry until they become rich and take the same measures to prevent their poor relatives and neighbors from doing the same.

I could also see why she could seduce a billionaire. She was pretty smoking. Smooth physique, glistening skin, long brown hair that curled down her shoulders, bright blue eyes, a bosom that almost put Auntie to shame, and a stature that simply spoke, open for business.

"You got those coconut-flavored ones," she said as her hand slipped from the door frame and she leaned up against the wall.

"Yes ma'am. How many would you like?"

She drained her wine and dropped her cup on her carpeted floor. Then she started laughing. Drunk victims were the easiest of targets. You could make it look like they practically killed themselves by mistake. This would be over in five minutes.

"I have my wallet back in the kitchen. Come in, come in sweetie."

I came in and she closed the door behind me. Then she walked into the kitchen. I reached into my bag to pull out my sword. When she stepped back into the hallway, I'd give her the three options like I usually did.

Then something unexpected caught me off guard. I was suddenly in a chokehold. Two men popped out from a side hallway with pistols aimed at me. The muscle freak behind me was squeezing my neck like a boa-constrictor.

I glanced back and noticed the door to a coat closet open. Damn it. He was hiding inside.

The woman came out of the kitchen with another cup of wine while snickering. "Caught you."

This was bad. Really bad. I knew inviting Ash would be bad luck. He wasn't even here, but his presence ruined the mission. The last time I met resistance from a target was when Noa died.

I guess it was bound to happen to me sooner or later.

"He sent you," the woman snarled at me. "That greedy bastard sent you to kill me. He's clever to send a baby-face woman like you."

What she didn't know was that my baby-face was actually real because I was only twelve.

"How would you like us to dispose of her ma'am?" the guy choking me asked.

She looked at the massive windows that had a view of Lake Michigan. "Make her fly."

I was really starting to think I jinxed myself when I told Ash that I didn't fall. The two men with the pistols went and opened up the window. I never received the memo that high-rises suddenly allowed windows to be opened up like doors. It would've made breaking into them much easier over the years.

I was led struggling to the window. I tried to kick my way free. I twisted and even spat on the guy's arm, but he only tightened his grip.

"Before you meet your maker," the woman said. "I want you to know that your boss, Remi Omega, isn't untouchable. I will expose him for the dirtbag he is and ruin his precious little life for using me as a tool."

With a wave of her hand, she cast my die and the man brought me to the edge and tossed me over into the streets of Chicago to meet my inevitable splat.