10. Bianca

It's party time—aka murder time.

I adjust the grip on my rifle and scan the area. I knew I had to be here earlier than the designated time to do a full swipe for potential dangers.

For my spot, I"ve chosen a small hotel a few blocks from the port where the meeting is about to take place. I"d scouted the area a few days back and calculated the angles and range to be fully prepared for any outcome.

My shooting skills won"t beat any distance records, but I can hold my own against any Army-trained sniper. I"ve been coached by one my entire life. Drew, my bodyguard since I was a little girl, is ex-military. He"s also the father I never had, even though my own is very much still alive.

The keyword is still. Drew has spent years training me when no one is around to question my activities, and I"ve taken my lessons seriously.

As I look around the docks and areas where potential shooters might hide, I hit the jackpot. Two men, at twelve o"clock and eight o"clock, are on their stomachs with their gears ready. The position of their rifles tells me they aren"t even looking for other targets, but the one set to arrive… now.

Two black cars pull up between the shipping containers. Three people get out from the first one: two nasty-looking men who appear to be bodyguards and then another shorter man in a tailored suit.

That must be Martinez.

I know all about this meeting and its purpose, which is why I"m here. You don"t do business with a cartel and expect them to honor their safety assurances. Even I know that.

Just as I know that the man who steps out of the second car hasn"t even considered the possibility that this could be a setup.

He is, after all, buying information from the second in command of a fucking cartel. He"s dressed in a sleek shirt and fitted pants that emphasize his physique and make my insides burn even now.

Focus, I tell myself.

The second man, Theo, has a briefcase in his hands. He takes a few steps towards Martinez, and words are exchanged. I hear them, but they don"t know or need to know that.Theo opens the suitcase to show rows and rows of cash, to which Martinez removes a flash drive from his jacket. It"s all about to go down. I quickly turn to the other men and note their tense positions. They"re about to shoot.

My finger squeezes the trigger with practiced speed. Once, twice. They drop dead. The shots have alerted the others to the presence of another sniper. The bodyguards are now in shooting position, and I know that the next few seconds are invaluable. Target set and target down. I get one bodyguard and am glad to see Theo seek cover. I don"t care about the other bodyguard, but Martinez won"t make it alive. He dared to threaten Theo"s life, and that makes him a dead man.

I take a few breaths and scan my surroundings. He hides, that motherfucker. Knowing he must have taken refuge behind the car, I take a couple of random shots to draw him out in the open. He must have taken the bait because he runs towards one container to his right, all the while ignoring his bodyguard"s warnings. I don"t hesitate, putting a bullet right through his skull—a kill shot.

I breathe out, relieved. Screeching car tires alert me to Theo driving away.

Yes, run!

Pulling myself to my knees, I take apart my rifle and store it in the violin case I use as cover.

Quickly, I hurry from the roof and into the staircase where I change into my disguise. I put on the wig, an elegant bob with straight bangs.

I add a pair of spectacles and fake braces. Then I take off my blazer to reveal the high school uniform to one of the schools in the area.

No one will question my guise. In this outfit, I now look completely underage. Taking my violin case, I exit the hotel and hail a cab.

I stop at Chinatown and walk around for a half hour before taking another cab to Midtown, where I"ve left my car. Once I"m behind the wheel, I quickly shed my disguise and go to my spare apartment to deposit all the materials. Not lingering more than necessary, I then hop in my car once again, going home.

The moment I"m inside the penthouse, a voice greets me.

"Darling?"

"Yes," I answer and turn to see my husband walking towards me with a strange expression on his face.

"What"s wrong?" I ask as he takes me into his arms and holds me as if there"s no tomorrow.

"Just glad to see you," he whispers in my hair, kissing my forehead, eyes, nose, and finally lips. He looks haggard, as if he"s just been through a harrowing experience.

"What?" I manage between kisses.

"I missed you," he rasps out.

"I love you, Theo!" I squeeze him to my chest, knowing exactly what has prompted his display of affection.

"I love you too, dear," he murmurs, taking me to our bedroom and proceeding to make sweet love to me.

I can tell that Theo"s shaken up by what happened. He"s always been uptight and unyielding with crime and violence. That"s why he must never know. My husband must never know the things I do to make sure he"s safe.

Never.

* * *

"You look amazing." I look in the mirror, adjusting the ribbon at my shirt"s neckline. Theo comes from behind, fitting himself to my back and making me shiver. I smile at the interruption and tip my head to kiss him.

"You too." I take in his appearance. He"s always been handsome, but he"s most attractive when he looks at me with love in his eyes because I know he"s mine. His short, dark-brown hair has the silkiest texture I"ve ever felt, and I take every opportunity to run my hands through it. But his eyes made me forget myself all those years ago. Not quite brown, not quite green, they sparkle with warmth and intelligence. He"s now dressed for the office, in a dark-blue suit and a white dress shirt.

"When are you coming home?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"After seven. I have a few meetings. Will you be at the foundation all day?"

"Yes, we"re having an event in a couple of weeks, so I have to approve all expenditures."

"I"m proud of you." His hands on my hips, he turns me around to give me a breathless kiss.

"Enough of this. You"ll be late."

"I"d always be late if it means one more kiss from you," he replies sneakily. I playfully punch him.

"Love you, now go."

"Love you too, sweetie!" He gives me one last glance before grabbing his briefcase and taking off.

Sweetie… Love… I sometimes wonder if he loves me or just who I am for him. Could he even love me if he knew the real me? The answer is no, and I"m painfully aware of it.

I was sixteen when I first saw him. He"d been fresh out of Quantico, mingling with different prospective employers at one of my father"s many banquets. I wasn"t supposed to be there, but that hadn"t been the first time I"d done something I wasn"t supposed to.

That night was the night my obsession with Theo started, and it"s never stopped. I remember seeing him in the ballroom, from my hiding place on the veranda. He"d been engaging in conversation with two older men, and he had this severe countenance devoid of any arrogance that just intrigued me.

When he"d turned, and I glimpsed at his face, I saw my future reflected in his eyes. I knew without a doubt that he was mine, and one day, I"d possess him. It hadn"t taken me long to find out everything about him and put my plan into motion. It would be another three years before I would officially meet him.

He was just getting his start in the mayor"s office and was looking at my father for support, and I was the young daughter of a man he knew and looked up to. Those circumstances had been fortuitous, for I"d had the advantage of my parentage and a wealth of information on his preferences. I"m not ashamed to say that I"d used that information to craft myself into his dream woman.

Innocent, sweet, vulnerable.

Theo had a savior complex. And I just needed to play the damsel in distress. Not that it was too hard with my unyielding father and seemingly restricted upbringing. He"d taken one look at my cowering self and had immediately come to my rescue.

He liked delicate and nurturing women.

I was neither.

But I made myself into one.

Two years of sporadic encounters followed by a year of slow courtship, and I knew I"d won him. Now, three years of marriage later, and my innocent persona has become a second skin. Nurturing, however, that"s still hard. It doesn"t help that he"s been bringing up children for a while now, and I don"t know how much longer I can put him off.

I don"t see myself as a mother, but more than anything else, I don"t want to share him with another being. He"s mine, only mine. He thinks we"ve been trying for the past year, but I"ve been secretly getting the shot. There are just so many things that if my husband found out, he would never forgive me.

With one last glance in the mirror, I pick up my bag and head out.

For the past five years, I"ve been involved with a foundation for the fight against homelessness that my father founded. Why? I"m sure you"ve guessed by now. Homelessness is an issue that"s very dear to Theo"s heart. After his parents died when he was a teenager, he spent some time on the streets to avoid foster homes. Through his intelligence and sheer determination, he finished high school and then put himself through college, getting merit scholarships and working part-time jobs to support himself. In the beginning, he"d wanted to become a lawyer because he"d seen too much injustice in the world.

But Theo isn"t a small-scale type of man. He"s a visionary. He wants to save everyone, and so he"d gone into law enforcement. Now, he"s chief commissioner for NYPD and a trusted friend to the mayor. And I, through my charitable efforts and my connections, am the perfect wife for him. An image I intend to keep.

I drop by the foundation and check all the documents. I wasn"t exactly lying when I told him I"d be at the foundation; it just wouldn"t take the entire day. As director, I have a lot of responsibilities and things to keep up with. I don"t enjoy it, and given the size of my trust fund, I shouldn"t even work. But it makes for an excellent cover when I need to leave the house. I speed through a couple of meetings with the staff and take my leave for the day.

I get in my car and drive to my spare apartment in Midtown. It"s a property registered in my late mother"s name that I got when I was eighteen. More than an apartment, it"s a haven for me and my vices. Since it"s almost past midday, the traffic is awful, so it takes awhile for me to reach the apartment.

The place has three bedrooms, but only one of them is functional. I"ve transformed one bedroom into an armory, and it houses all my priceless possessions: my guns, rifles, knives, and protective gear. It also has tracking technology and listening devices.

The other bedroom is now an enormous closet, and it contains all my disguises. It has a wall-length wardrobe with different outfits and another panel with wigs and complementary accessories that make all the difference when wanting to become someone else. A few mannequins are clothed in disguises that are dear to my heart. In the middle is the one I remember most fondly: a pink bob-cut wig, a tight purple dress that barely covers the butt, fishnets, and a pair of high boots. I close my eyes as I fondly remember my first taste of Theo.

Like all young white-collar workers, he"d taken to frequenting this strip club in East Village. Theo may be the most righteous man I know, but even he can"t resist a pair of tits and an inviting smile. That"s when I realized that for all his serious demeanor in day-to-day life, he"s rough and dominant in the bedroom. He"d fucked me seven ways to Sunday, and I still wanted more. But for all our lengthy affair, I was only a prostitute to him, not Bianca Ashby.

Because Bianca Ashby would never step foot in a strip club, would never be taken roughly, would always be treated like a porcelain doll.

Bianca Ashby wasn"t fucked; she was only made love to.

That"s probably my biggest regret in how Theo sees me. He"s never tried to be anything but sweet and tender in bed. Even when I"d suggested trying something a little spicier, he"d raised an eyebrow and asked jokingly if I"d discovered porn, and that sex in real life isn"t like in porn. After that, I hadn"t brought it up again, realizing it was a moot point. I was too fragile for him. To be protected at all times, even from other, more non-conventional aspects of desire.

I make my way to the bedroom, looking under the bed for a box that housed another one of my long-term vices. This one I am probably the most ashamed of. I quickly retrieve the box and open it to find countless small packets of white powder. I pocket one and put everything in place. With shaky fingers, I line up some powder on the desk next to the bed, and using a small straw, I inhale two lines. Cleaning my nose of residue powder, I take a seat and open my computer.

A few years ago, I would have denied having an addiction to my dying breath. Now, after enduring withdrawal symptoms several times, I"ve finally accepted it. I"m an addict.

* * *

It"s funny how it all started. Sadly, I didn"t realize how reliant I was on coke until I went through the worst withdrawal symptoms. Until then, I"d told myself that I was taking it because I could and because it gave me single-minded focus when it came to my pursuits. I can still remember the first time I tried it.

I was nineteen and had just found out about the strip club Theo frequented. When I was going to college full time, I would often go the club, hoping to catch him. I"d convinced management to give me a server position. It was finals season, and I was spending all day studying and all night in that damned club. At the end of my first full week, I could barely stand on my feet, and Theo had still not shown up. In one of my breaks, I"d been outside the club, hoping the night"s cold air would wake me up. I"d bummed a cigarette off a guy, and he"d commented on my incessant yawning.

"I have just the thing," he"d said and showed a hint of white in his pocket. I"d lifted my eyebrow in question, and he"d motioned to the alley next to the club. Now, I know it"s not safe to go with an unknown guy in a dark alley. I mean, it"s a poster scenario for assault. But at that point, I was tired and maybe a little curious. I went with him and saw how he lined up the powder on the back of his hand and sniffed. I copied his movements, and it didn"t take long for the powder to kick in. It also didn"t take long for the asshole to put his hands on me. I mean, really? What did I expect?

"What the fuck?" I spat when his hand had gone to my waist and up.

"Oh, come on, you didn"t think that was free?" He smirked.

"How much? I"ll pay you."

I shoved his hand away, prepared to give him the cash, but then he replied,"I don"t want money. I want," he said, leering at me. His hand went directly to my breast this time, but I expected it. My trained instincts, coupled with the magic powder, kicked in, and I twisted his arm behind his back. Using my foot, I kicked the back of his knees and shoved him to the ground. My other hand went directly to my boot, where I withdrew a small knife. Holding it to his neck, I snickered.

"I told you I would give you cash."

But the more I thought about it, the madder I became. I shoved harder at his tendons with my boot. "You dare touch me? No one touches me, do you understand?" No one but my Theo—the words went unsaid.

I was still holding the knife to his neck and didn"t even notice when it dug into his flesh, and blood trickled down.

"Please…" The man almost started wailing, and the sound of him at my mercy gave me a rush. Or maybe it was the drug?

"What was the thing you gave me?"

"C-C-Cocaine," he stammered, and I gave him one last shove.

Moving in front of him, I wiped the knife slowly on his shirt and told him, "Next time a woman says no, it"s no." He nodded fervently.

"Run before I change my mind." He"d taken off like a scared rabbit.

Sheathing my knife, I returned to my post at the club, and lo and behold, my night took a turn for the best. Theo was there.

Maybe my love for the magic powder developed because I associated it with my first sexual encounter with Theo. Perhaps that"s what I told myself every time I went to that club. Eventually, if I went too many days without it, my hands would shake. For a trained killer, shaking is the worst thing that can happen. After that, it became a necessity, and my addiction solidified.

Could I give it up? Yes, I could. But that would probably mean rehab, which in turn would mean an absence from home and the potential of Theo finding out precisely what I"ve been up to these past few years.

I let a loud sigh and shake myself from my wandering thoughts. I am looking at my computer screen, waiting for a reply from a weapons supplier I"d contacted on the dark web. He had a new experimental rifle that I"ve been dying to get my hands on. Problem was? It wasn"t strictly legal, and the few shipments that made it to the States had to be delivered personally by an intermediary because of the rarity of the pieces and their price range. This toy would definitely set me back quite a bit.

I have men in New York next week if you"re interested

I read the text and take a minute to think about a potential meeting location. I rarely like to use the same place twice for meetups, but this is too short of a notice to scout an area and ensure safety protocols. I"d have to use one hotel I"ve used in the past. I immediately decide on the Hotel Empire since I know the layout pretty well and have a few exit routes should I require any. I make a call and book room 204 for the next week under one of my fake identities.

Hotel Empire Room 204 14th May 2:00 PM

Okay.

After seeing his reply, I close the connection and put my laptop aside, excitement brimming inside me. In just under a week, I"d have a new toy to play with. It"d been too long since my latest purchase, which I"d used a few days before on those criminals. It"s an excellent rifle, but I need something slightly faster to reload since there were a few close calls in that encounter. I have to hope this new one will perform better.

Getting out of the room, I quickly check the time and realize I must have lost track of it since it"s a little over three. I go to my armory and pick up the new tracking device I"d recently gotten, along with some new surveillance stuff. I always have something on Theo, but the last one must have gotten lost since I haven"t been able to monitor his movements or listen to his phone in a while. Not since before the meeting with Martinez, actually. I shake my head, not wanting to even entertain the thought that he could have found the devices. They must have broken, or maybe he lost them? I just need to install the new ones.

Maybe to some people, it seems wrong that I continuously monitor Theo. Still, knowing his obsession with catching one of the biggest drug lords in America, this is the only way to ensure his safety.