2. Paolo

The thirteenth floor was well and truly going to be unlucky for one poor sonofabitch as Paolo aimed down the sight of his fully locked and loaded sniper rifle.

As he peered across toward the room across the street, Paolo's mind was calm, and his blood was running cold. To most people, the very thought of taking another person's life would have been almost incomprehensible. But to Paolo it was simply another job. He rarely asked what, who, or why. But Paolo knew that everyone he took down was in some way involved with the mafia or had crossed them in one way or another.

It was fair game.

It was the business.

It was the world they all operated in.

With no sign of the target just yet, Paolo stepped away from the mounted sniper rifle and took a seat in the fold-up chair next to it. The apartment was sparse, a short term rental that the Doni family had taken up with the sole purpose of providing Paolo with the ideal location to take out the target.

Paolo was forty-three years old and had made his way up the ranks of mob hitmen to a point where his reputation very much proceeded him. In mafia circles, the very mention of the name Paolo Totti brought people out in a cold sweat. He was the man that you never wanted to glimpse lurking in the background for fear it might be you he was eyeing up as his next mark.

Life in the mafia was dangerous and every day could be your last. This was true for Paolo too, and he had the scars to prove it. But Paolo was meticulous, ice cold, and lethal. He might get taken out one day in the future, but it was going to take someone even sharper than him to do it.

With his dark eyes and jet-black hair, Paolo was a man who liked to dress the part too. From his selection of finely tailored suits down to his impressive collection of gleaming shoes, Paolo carried himself with class and distinction.

And while he embodied everything that a sophisticated man in his prime should, Paolo also knew that when the time to fight came he would do whatever it took – no matter how blood splattered his finest white shirt might get.

‘Come on, what's keeping you,' Paolo grumbled, holding up his binoculars and casting his gaze back toward the apartment window across the street. ‘We're only delaying the inevitable here…'

Paolo took a sip from a cut glass tumbler of iced water and leaned back in his chair. While he had friends, Paolo had always considered himself something of a lone wolf. And that was certainly a good thing when it came to being a hitman. With endless hours by himself or moving anonymously across various cities, Paolo was very much used to his own company.

That being said, when Paolo caught a glimpse of his phone flashing up with a message, it felt like a welcome break from playing the waiting game for his target to make himself known…

DANILO: It's me. That opportunity at the academy I presented you with recently is ready to go. Your up. Finish what you're doing and come back to the city. I'll explain exactly what I need when you arrive. Go well, my friend.

PAOLO: Got it. Go well.

Paolo put his phone down and took a moment to consider Danilo's message. Having listened to Danilo explain the concept behind the Ice Bears academy, Paolo had been both intrigued and a little bit puzzled.

The idea of training up new Ice Bears players in the kind of thing that would typically be the sole domain of mobsters and career criminals was highly unorthodox. But that said, neither the Doni family nor the Ice Bears could ever be accused of being like anyone else.

And the prospect of taking some time off the mean streets and instructing others in the deadly art of assassination did come with a certain appeal. If nothing else, it would mean a break from hour after hour spent waiting for a dead man walking to arrive. There was also the fact that Danilo was paying very, very well for the instructor job too. Paolo had amassed a decent amount of money over the years, but nowhere near enough to say no to the kind of payment that Danilo was offering for this risk-free role.

As much as Paolo considered himself to be a lone wolf, he also knew that there was something missing in his life. Even if a relationship or anything similar was out of the question, the chance to work with some hot, young hockey players did appeal to Paolo.

However in that moment there was no time to let his mind wander and cock harden. A flicker across the road drew Paolo's attention and within seconds he was staring down the rifle sight and slowing his breathing down.

The target had entered the apartment.

He was alone – which was perfect. And he seemed to be heading toward the couch to take what would in all likelihood be his final nap in this world at least.

As the man sat down and took a sip on his whiskey, Paolo could easily have pulled the trigger. But Paolo wanted to show some respect and let the man enjoy one last moment of pleasure…

‘Drink up, enjoy, and… die,' Paolo whispered, waiting until the last drop of whiskey had left the glass.

Three.

Two.

One. And…

Paolo squeezed the trigger and watched as the unwitting man's head rocked backward and a flash of blood burst across his couch. There was no room for doubt, the man was dead before his whiskey glass had shattered on the oak floor beneath him.

It was time for Paolo to make his exit.

The job had been completed and now it was time to make a quick, subtle getaway and prepare for a quiet evening back home safe in the knowledge that he had bullet proof windows installed as standard.

No one would ever catch Paolo unawares.

Paolo was the predator, not the prey – and he intended to keep it that way too.

Paolo's apartment in the city was less of a home and more of a base where Paolo could operate out of when not away on a job.

With its stylish but minimalist décor and very few personal touches like photos or trinkets from his past, Paolo's place could easily have been mistaken for an upscale hotel suite.

But… it was how Paolo liked it.

With the payment for the day's hit now sitting in one of his offshore accounts, Paolo relaxed in the bath with a glass of red wine and allowed the hot, healing crystal-salted water to soothe his body and his mind.

‘A boy would be nice…' Paolo muttered, the idea of having his back massaged with a hot flannel sounding very appealing. ‘But… fuck boys.'

Paolo was a Daddy through and through, but there was no doubting that his previous experiences with boys had been mixed. And while he had once happily played the field, the real damage was done with a boy who had seemed like the perfect package only instead to turn out like the devil incarnate.

Even the thought of Paolo's treacherous former boy was enough to make Paolo turn cold. The relationship had come to the most painful end imaginable. And he had the scar to prove it too.

Paolo leaned forward and looked at the deep, thick scar on his left shoulder.

‘Asshole,' Paolo muttered, shaking his head and finishing off his wine. ‘Still, a dead asshole at least…'

What had gone down between Paolo and his former boy was painful history. And not something that Paolo cared to think about, let alone discuss.

No, Paolo was happy to keep any idea about boys strictly to his imagination from this point onward. And with the tingly, hot water working with the sumptuous red wine, Paolo leaned back against the headrest and allowed his hardening cock to spring up to attention.

As Paolo began to run his powerful hands over his achingly hard cock, he did so in the knowledge that no boy could betray him in his own fantasies. It was time to let his guard down and see exactly how down and dirty he could get…

‘This place is impressive,' Paolo said, sipping an espresso with Danilo as the pair of them made their way to the academy's basement level. ‘A serious investment. One you'll want a safe return from.'

‘Exactly,' Danio replied, nodding his approval. ‘We need our new recruits to be able to work on and off the ice for us. Of course, not every player will be a natural born killer. Some will be spies. Others will be used for media plants and so on. But I've got two boys for you to train who I think might just be perfect for your line of work.'

‘I'm intrigued,' Paolo said, walking through the basement's large, moodily lit space. ‘But I'm not going to bullshit you. If I don't think they can do it, I won't be saying otherwise. I don't care how much money you have riding on it.'

‘I wouldn't expect any less,' Danilo laughed. ‘But give Tommy and Olivier a chance. Don't judge them too hastily. I know how ruthless you are. Jeez. We're all ruthless in this business, but you're something else. But I think these boys could work out.'

‘I guess you called it right with Donovan,' Paolo said, casting his mind back to his work out of town alongside Donovan and Taine. ‘Okay. I'm good here. This will give me the perfect view to make my initial assessment.'

‘Excellent,' Danilo said, stopping and watching on as Paolo walked up toward a darkened ledge and blended into the background perfectly. ‘Remind me never to get on your bad side.'

‘And the same for me,' Paolo laughed, very aware of the fact that Danilo massively outranked him in the family hierarchy.

Paolo was a contractor for hire, and he knew it.

As deadly a shooter as he was, Paolo knew that it would only ever take one word from Danilo, and he would have every single hitman and thug across the state and beyond looking for him.

All Paolo could do was rely upon the fact that his relationship with Danilo was time-tested and solid as a rock. And if he could nail the role of academy instructor and produce a new hitman for the Doni family, then that relationship would only get stronger still.

Speaking of which…

Paolo crouched down and watched on as two boys nervously stepped out of the elevator and made their way toward Danilo.

The pair of them were exactly what Paolo would have anticipated from two young hockey prospects. They looked fit, flexible, and had youth on their side. But Paolo had no idea whether either one of them had what it took to hunt a man down and take his life with ruthless efficiency.

Show me who you are boys.

Let me see something.

I need to see a spark. I need a hint of killer instinct.

Suddenly, Paolo's watching brief was over as Danilo called for him to reveal himself. Paolo stepped forward and watched with interest as the two boys turned and looked up toward him.

Paolo showed nothing in response as the two rookie players stared back at him, all doe eyed and nervous. But underneath his deadly calm exterior, Paolo's heart was thumping.

Who the hell is he?

Those eyes. So sweet, but…

He might just be the death of me.