15. Bianca

Ileave for work as usual and stay for a few hours. Then I head to my apartment to get ready for the meeting. I"d barely slept last night. Even after Theo"s surprise, I was still anxious about today"s meeting. I know Berserker would never contact me if it wasn"t something I needed to know. Which makes the anticipation worse?

I get inside my apartment and head for my closet. I put on a pair of leather pants, a black tank top, and a leather jacket with a big bow and arrow on its back. Turning towards the big mirror, I add a long, red wig with big curls and silver contacts. Sheathing a good number of knives in my combat boots, I also add a small gun, just to be sure.

I"d gotten my code name Artemis due to my perfect aim. I"ve never actually used a bow and arrow, but my reputation for hunting down targets has made sure the name is deserved. Stopping by the bedroom for a dose of magic powder, I then take the elevator and go to the parking lot where my Harley is waiting for me. Whenever I venture into the underground world, I hold onto my Artemis persona, so my disguise always needs to be impeccable. It isn"t as if Berserker doesn"t know who I am, but the rest of the people do not. And it"s better if it stays that way.

After getting on my ride, I speed through the highway and head towards Brooklyn. It doesn"t take me too long to reach the club, given that it"s still daytime. There are a few outsiders around. I park my Harley and head towards the entrance. A big guy stands outside, but he just nods and opens the door for me.

"The boss is in his office." is all he says.

I nod and enter. On my way to the office, I pass a few tattooed guys who give me odd looks. When I am in front of the door, I knock three times, slowly withdrawing one of the knives from the hiding place.

"Come in."

I enter the room and see him behind his desk, his long legs propped on the table in a relaxed manner.

"Punctual. What else is to be expected from a goddess?" He gives me one of his wicked grins.

"Cut it," I reply and throw the knife an inch from his head. He doesn"t flinch. His expression doesn"t change. He just watches me. And then he laughs.

"Ahhhh, heavenly love. Of course." He takes his feet off the table and stands, coming around the desk to give me a big hug.

"It"s been what… three weeks?"

"Four. But who"s counting." I smile and return the hug. "Okay, so spill, what happened."

"Little goddess, so impatient." He shakes his head. He knows that anything Theo related makes me lose control.

"Come on, Vlad. Out with it. You wouldn"t have asked me to come if it wasn"t serious."

"That"s the issue. I don"t know how serious." He stops smiling and motions me towards the computer on his desk. He presses a key on it, and a video of me in my Chanel dress from when I"d gone to scout locations for the shooting plays on the screen.

"What"s this?"

"This is you being irresponsible. Fucking irresponsible," he says, and I can tell he"s disappointed.

"Why do you have this?"

"Because," he starts in an exasperated tone, "Marcel, your husband"s dear friend Marcel, asked me for footage in the region related to some shooting. Now, if you"d told me of your plans, I would have known not to give them the footage. But you never ask for help, do you? And now, you"re on camera, going inside a seedy hotel a few days before a shooting that resulted in three fucking corpses. Care to tell me what your excuse is? Damn it, B, you"re smarter than this."

I"m shocked at his outburst. But more than anything, I"m appalled at what he"s saying. I look again at the video and realize that you can tell it is me, especially when I"m leaving the hotel. This is bad. He"s right. I was careless. Fucking hell. My hands clench at my side.

"Did my husband see this?"

"He did, and he recognized you."

"Fuck," I curse and kick the desk with my foot. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" Shit… was this why he was behaving so oddly? No fucking way. He can"t know.

"Did he make the connection?" I ask, and I"m almost afraid to know.

"No… I think I saved your ass, but I threw you under the bus simultaneously."

"Out with it, Vlad. I need to know."

"I might have said it looked like you were having an affair."

My mouth drops open as I stare at him. Affair? Shit. I look back to the video, and I see that my hair was visibly wet when I exited the hotel. I pale. This doesn"t look good.

"Did he believe it?"

"I don"t know… He looked stricken. I think the seed was planted."

"Fuck. That makes so much sense."

"What?"

"When I got home, probably after he"d seen the footage, he was so drunk. I"d never seen him like that. Then, out of nowhere, he backs me against the wall and fucks the shit out of me. This makes so much sense," I mutter.

I"m pacing now, realizing the reason for his behavior. He"d been jealous. Did he think I"d ever cheat on him? I pause to think about it. I"d never let any other man besides him touch me. He couldn"t actually believe I"d cheat.

"He fucked the shit out of you?" Vlad asks, amused. "I didn"t think he had it in him."

"Oh, shut it. What do I do now? I can"t have him thinking I"d cheat, but I also can"t exactly go tell him, oh, you know that day, I was just planning to gun down anyone who was a danger to you. Oh, and by the way, I"m a paid killer. I don"t even know which one is worse."

Vlad brings his hand up to rub his chin pensively. "The killer part, definitely. Maybe he"s into that cuckold scene. I could give you a hand." I punch his shoulder hard, making him wince and throw up his hands in a sign of peace.

"Stop bad mouthing my husband. I need to think."

"I just don"t get it. Why were you so fucking careless?"

"I don"t know, okay. It"s never happened before." He"s silent for a minute, tapping his foot.

"You"re using again," he says accusingly, and I give him a sad smile.

"When did I really stop?"

"You should. It"s messing with your efficiency. One of these days, you"re going to get yourself killed. And you"ll have those drugs to thank for that."

"Whatever," I mumble, knowing he"s right.

"B," he calls affectionately, "I can help."

"I know… but I don"t know if I"m ready."

"One of these days, you"ll have to be… I don"t like you wasting away because of drugs."

"Says the drug trafficker," I snort.

"Yeah, well, I don"t touch that shit."

"Whatever," I say again and try to change the subject. "I"m going to try to sneak my visit to the hotel into a conversation and spin a tale. I really don"t want him suspecting anything, especially infidelity."

Vlad shakes his head.

"That husband of yours is going to get himself into trouble one day. You know he"s been asking for it ever since he started digging into Jimenez. It"s only a matter of time before they hear, and you know what will happen then."

"I"m well aware. Hell, I"ve been monitoring him ever since we got married, and I"ve killed every single potential danger. I"ll just continue to kill anyone who intends to harm him."

"Until when? How long? You can"t keep going like that, B. You"re not invincible either. If anything, this video should tell you that you"re slipping. And in our world, when you slip, you die."

"I know. Fuck, don"t I know it… But he won"t give up this crusade of his. He"s going after Jimenez regardless of whether I approve or not."

"It"s a suicide mission."

"I don"t know what I can do. I honestly don"t know. He doesn"t even tell me that. Everything I know about him that"s not on paper is by having him under surveillance. He hides from me just as much as I hide from him."

"Then why don"t you try a little truth for a change?" I give a fake laugh.

"The moment he knows who I am… what I am…. is the moment he walks away. I"m sure of it."

"How can you be so sure? You"ve told me before that you heard he liked innocent women, so you turned yourself into one. But how do you really know he won"t accept you for who you are?"

"Because," I say, aggravated at both myself and the situation, "He fucked me once against a wall, and then he was profusely apologizing by cooking and setting up a candlelight dinner. For a fucking quickie against the wall that was a little rougher than the norm. How do you think he"d react to me killing for a living because I enjoy it, not because I need the money? Better yet, how do you think he"d react to knowing he fucked me in the most obscene ways disguised as a hooker before I even met him as Bianca? Oh, and let"s not forget the part where I stalked, tracked, and investigated him for years so I could mold myself into his ideal woman?" I"m breathing hard at this point, all my frustrations and worries out in the open.

"Well… when you put it like that, it does sound bad."

"Of course it sounds bad! Even to my ears, it sounds bad, and I did all that. Fuck me now," I say, exasperated.

"But have you thought that maybe if he knew the real you, he"d also show you the real him? Because I"m not convinced of that "innocent woman" act. You know that men in my culture are often guilty of the Madonna-whore complex. He fits the mold. You also forget I"ve met the fucker. He"s so stiff and proper; I"d never believed him capable of what he did to you as Pink. But he did. That tells me he"s hiding something beneath the surface, and it"s simmering. Men who hold it in like this… when they explode, it"s not pretty."

Biting my nails, I nod. "That"s just the thing. For him, Bianca would be the Madonna and Pink the whore. But I don"t think he could ever merge the two in his mind."

"You won"t know if you don"t give him a chance. I"m telling you, B, I just think there"s more to the man than we know."

"Ugh… I really didn"t need this."

"Now… back to your issue."

"Which one?"

"The coke. How often?"

"Every couple of days," I reply hesitantly.

"Hell, B… it"s not okay."

"I know… but I"ve never had the time to properly wean myself off it."

"You need to do it and soon. It might just get you killed."

"Yeah," I agree.

"Tell your husband you have a trip abroad for your charity or whatever. I"ll help you. You know I have the experience."

"When?" I ask, thoughtfully considering his proposition. Just now, I realize how much the drugs have been messing with my mind. Vlad is right. I am slipping.

"Next week?"

"I"m meeting an arms dealer on Monday."

"Good. This works. Come to the club on Friday. Say you will be gone for at least a week."

"Vlad… ugh, I don"t know. Won"t he get suspicious? With the cheating thing and all?"

"You need your wits about you, B, if you want to protect him and yourself. I didn"t want to tell you this now, but Martinez"s death caused quite the commotion among the cartels. There are whispers that Ortega is seeking retribution. And you know who the target will be."

"Then, more than ever, I need to be with Theo."

"I can have my people on him." I shake my head at his words. I can"t leave Theo in the care of strangers.

"I can"t."

"Damn it, B."

"Look, I can"t leave. But I"ll do my best to wean myself off on my own."

Vlad sighs in defeat. "Fine. But you call me if you need anything."

"Of course," I agree, and I go for a hug. For all his nagging, Vlad has been a prized friend for an awfully long time. He"s probably one of the few people who know the whole truth about me, and I trust him with my life.

"I should probably go."

"Take care. And contact me if anything. I mean it."

"I will." I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. Then, before I leave, I go to the wall and retrieve my knife.

"Thanks for everything, Berserker." I wink at him, and he groans.

* * *

Iam a certified sociopath if you couldn"t already tell.

You grow up surrounded by wealth and glitz but zero human connection. You act out in a manner that is typical to you, that is normal for you. You lie, cheat, deceive. Until someone comes along and tells you that"s not normal. That you"re not normal.

That"s what happened to me when I was ten.

When I suddenly found out why my father ignored me and why the staff avoided me. I wasn"t normal. I was defective. But I was also disruptive.

Evil.

If my father had been religious, he"d have called for an exorcism. But he was just cynical, so he"d shrugged it off and moved on.

It wasn"t until Drew was assigned as my bodyguard that someone pointed out my behavior was wrong. Different. He cared enough to get me professional help, even though the prognosis wasn"t something to be proud of.

Antisocial Personality Disorder.

Suddenly, there was a reason why I liked violence. Why I didn"t value human life. Why I"d spin whatever lie I could to achieve my goals. The shrink told me the cause might be early childhood neglect and abuse. I didn"t believe him. After all, I"d never cared whether my father acknowledged me or not. I had my own world.

But as I was growing up, so did my ideas evolve into more complex scenarios. Scenarios that put people at risk and made me into a danger to society. Or so I"d been told.

My father didn"t care. Of course, he wouldn"t. I didn"t care either; I didn"t care about society. But Drew cared. Drew had a high sense of morality, and he felt it was his duty to ensure I could control myself.

He"d taken it upon himself to help me channel my rage and bloodthirst into more productive endeavors. He"d taught me how to fight, spar, and shoot. The shooting soothed me. That calmed the rage. It started with pistols. Then, when he discovered I had an inclination for it, he"d taught me how to use sniper rifles. And that"s how my love affair with shooting started.

By the time I was sixteen, I was as well trained as any professional. But I also had something most didn"t—a disregard for right or wrong. To make sure I kept my urges in check, Drew guided me towards mercenary work. I didn"t kill because I needed the money. I killed because I needed to kill.

Besides my comprehensive skill set, I was also blessed with a small frame and quick reflexes that helped me get out of most situations. My penchant for disguises also came in handy, and I always managed to cover my traces thoroughly.

I killed my first target the summer I turned sixteen. It wasn"t glamorous or messy. Or anything, really. It was also how I met Vlad, three years my senior and one of the sons of the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, my contractor. He"d laughed at me when he"d been told I was accompanying him on the mission. We were to kill a Ukrainian official who had a fondness for underage girls and who had gotten on the Bratva"s wrong side. Initially, Vlad was supposed to make the killing while I"d serve as a distraction. I didn"t care about specifics. I"d gone to a hotel room with the man, and within five minutes, he"d been dead. When Vlad had come in to finish the job, he"d raged at me for stealing his kill.

"I thought you said girls are useless." I"d raised an eyebrow at him and dared him to comment on it. He"d pursed his lips and told me to get out of there.

That was the start of a very rocky partnership. We were paired together on different missions for the whole year, all of which ended in arguments and bickering. For all the disagreements, though, a pleasant camaraderie developed between us. I"d quickly recognized that Vlad, like me, didn"t have a moral compass. (Although his sense of humor was more developed than mine.) But we did share something far more critical than any feeling of right and wrong. Loyalty. While we both struggled with human companionship and social interactions, we recognized loyalty for what it was—the ultimate badge of honor.

Although we were branded as monsters by society, we built our own honor system, and we held each other in the highest esteem. We became known as Artemis and the Berserker.

Until it all changed.

* * *

It was supposed to be an easy mission. We"d already proven ourselves as a reliable duo. It never occurred to us that we may not return from it alive.

We were sent to accompany a shipment of drugs until it got into the hands of the Bratva. We quickly realized it was all a trap.

"Shut it, malyshka, I"m trying to concentrate." He pinched his eyebrows in annoyance at my chatter while flinging the pages of his book. We were sitting around in the back of a truck while the delivery was made.

"You"re no fun, Berserker," I replied, knowing he hated being called by that name.

"If you don"t stop talking, I"m going to stuff these pages down your throat."

"I"d like to see you try." I flipped him off, and he put the book down, ready to charge me. We always sparred around. Just as he was about to make a grab for me, the truck came to a complete stop, and we were flung about.

"Shit," we both said at the same time, composing ourselves and readying for whatever was happening on the outside. It didn"t take long for the shots to fire from all directions.

We looked at each other in confusion. No one had said anything about any danger. Our presence here was supposed to be a mere formality.

Vlad removed his shashkas from the back. He always used two, one in each hand. It was strange, but he rarely used guns, preferring the intimate feeling of killing at close range. Whenever he started, however, he went on a killing spree, hence his code name Berserker. It was also why we were the perfect pair. I preferred guns, rarely relying on knives or any other types of weapons. And I always had his back.

"Cover me," he said, and I nodded, removing two Glocks from my holsters and taking my stance. He opened the door to the cargo container with a kick, and we both quickly jumped and sought cover. We assessed the situation and saw that the driver had been killed, as well the other people in the two cars accompanying us.

"How many?" he asked, and I scanned the surroundings.

"I see two up front and three at the cars." I moved a little to the right to get a better view.

"Another one is coming our way." I held my palm to Vlad and counted the seconds with my fingers. Vlad took my signal and charged the man as he came upon us. He crisscrossed his blades at the man"s neck, slashing his throat in one motion.

"Take the front, I"ll take the back." I nodded and went into the open. I cocked my guns and aimed, killing the two men at the truck"s cockpit. From the corner of my eye, I saw Vlad sneaking around the two cars in front, almost upon the other three.

They noticed me, so their attention was occupied. I lifted one of the men I"d killed and used him as a human shield. It wasn"t easy as he was a mountain of a man. I was grateful when I saw Vlad throw two knives, each lodging into the men"s skulls. The other two seemed disoriented, looking between Vlad and me.

"Now!" Vlad yelled, and I flung the corpse from my side, ducked, then rolled on the ground as shots flew above my head, and took a kill shot as soon as I landed. That was the last man, the other already dead by Vlad"s blade.

I took a deep breath and joined Vlad.

"Did you see?" he asked, looking at the carnage before us. I knew what he was referring to. We went to each and every one of the corpses and ripped the sleeves off their shirts.

"It doesn"t make sense," I said. We were looking at six individuals with Bratva tattoos. The Bratva tattoo that Vlad sported as well.

"Fuck." He started towards one of the cars. "Get in!" I quickly followed, frowning at his urgency. "What?"

"We need to get back to the quarters. This isn"t good." We got into the car, and he already started the engine.

"It"s a coup."

"A coup? But who?"

"My stupid ass of a brother, that"s who. Fuck! I should have seen it coming. Misha"s always been power hungry, but I didn"t think he had it in him."

"So, what, he kills the entire family to become Pakhan?"

"Yes. And if we don"t get there in time, it will be a blood bath." I"d never seen Vlad so serious. It wasn"t until we got to the quarters that I realized why. He didn"t care about his father. But his sisters? That was a different matter altogether.

Just as Vlad suspected, his brother had indeed overtaken the quarters. We managed to pull the feed from some of the security cameras and noticed the men had been quickly replaced with people we didn"t recognize. One of the cameras we managed to access was from the main hall of the house, and we could see traces of blood everywhere. Not shocking, Dima Kuznetsov, Vlad"s father, and the Pakhan of the Bratva lay dead in the middle of the hall.

A demonstration.

Misha, his brother, and the traitor who"d started all this addressed a few people from the center of the room.

We drove fast, but it still took us a while before we got to the quarters. Nestled deep within Brooklyn, the quarters were around Shepherd"s Bay. Because we"d been sent to Union Beach, NJ, it was a wonder we managed to make the journey in a half hour. Still, we were a half hour too late.

In fact, the quarters of the Bratva were a couple of old mansions that housed the leading members of the organization and their families and where all-important business was conducted and other less legal means of coercing information out of people.

Vlad didn"t even bother to properly park the car as he got out and started towards the gates. Having gotten an idea of what was happening inside, I reached out and stopped him. Instinctively, he flipped my hand off.

"Stop, you moron," I said, "Think about this, you"re walking to your death."

That statement made him pause.

"So what? I"ll die with honor. Not a traitor."

"You don"t need to die if we"re smart about this."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, and I smirked.

"You got yourself a sniper, use it well."

The moment the words were out of my mouth, the corner of his turned up, too. He realized what I was thinking. We spent a few minutes hashing out the plans, and then we went in different directions of the house.

Vlad went through the main gates, ready to greet the carnage made by his brother, while I went towards a broken part of the fence. My goal was to first secure my gear. Having worked for a while now with the Bratva, I had my little office on the premises. Before advancing, though, I made sure my Glocks were fully charged with ammo, then I attached a silencer to each pistol"s end. The key to our plan was the element of surprise that my arrival would cause. Vlad was to only shake things up a little until I got a good shot at Misha.

I managed to sneak through the hole in the fence and then made my way across the lawn, trying to avoid as much attention as possible. Just as I was about to round the corner towards one of the back entrances, a man spotted me. I didn"t hesitate as I pulled the trigger for a shot between his eyes. Lowering my gun, I sprinted across and entered the house.

Two more people came across me as I made my way towards my office, both of them now lying in a blood pool. Just as I was about to reach my destination, a bullet whizzed past my shoulder, taking some skin with it. It burned. Oh well, the pain gave me a new purpose. I smiled as I saw the man who"d taken the shot and returned the favor.

I finally opened the door to my office, and with as much speed as I could muster, I assembled my favorite rifle and slung it across my shoulder. Now the more challenging part. To have a full view of the main house"s hall, I had to go to the second building"s surveillance tower. It would be a challenge to get there unnoticed.

I quickly exited the house and tried to keep out of sight as I ran across the lawn again.

Surprisingly, I reached the second building in record time. Going through yet another back entrance, I had to shoot two more people down before getting to the surveillance tower.

Glad there were no more interruptions inside the room, I locked the door, adding some of the furniture for extra force. Then I took my position and looked through the telescope. I adjusted my view a little, and finally, I could see what was happening in the hall.

Misha was arrogantly pacing the floor. Vlad was being held by two goons. His clothes were full of blood, and so was his face. Not his blood, of that I was confident. Misha seemed to say something, probably gloating about his treachery. I fixated on Misha and waited for him to stand still. His hands flailed around.

"Stop moving!" I muttered to myself.

He moved again to remove one of Vlad"s shashkas and hold it against his throat. I had to hurry. I controlled my breathing and looked for the red dot to coincide with his skull. Please, move a little to the right, I whispered to myself.

And he did.

Just as he moved two millimeters to the right, I took my hit, right between his eyes. Kill shot. The moment Misha dropped dead, Vlad wrenched himself free from the men holding him, immediately slaying them. He then stood and looked right at me.

He was a sight, that"s to be sure. So bloody and fierce. He was magnificent. If I weren"t already in love, I might have differently appreciated the dashing figure he cut all in red.

He winked. I laughed and lowered my rifle. It seems that my best friend was the new Pakhan.