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Chapter one
Ferro
The Job
I wake up from a dreamless sleep as usual, but there’s something unique about this awakening that is different. It’s not about the fact that I woke up. It’s the fact that I was awoken.
This is where my gift comes in. As soon as I poem my eyes, I am completely aware of my surroundings, almost like I never slept in the first place. This complete awareness makes it feel like I never slept, so I end up feeling like hopping back into bed the minute I step out. It's a curse most of those days, but at this ungodly hour, where I'm just barely able to evade the strike of an attacker and roll over the bed, I consider it a blessing. The average person would have turned this place into a crime scene in split seconds.
I’m no ordinary person.
I don't even bother to hop on my feet before I deal with the assassin. After having this happen to me at least twice every quarter year, there's practically a weapon within every reach, but within specific places that only I would have the knowledge of drawing ever so quickly. The gunshot, along with the spray of blood, is instant, relieving…and irritating.
To clean this mess would cost at least a hundred grand. I know it sounds minuscule for a billionaire, but twice every quarter brings the total to eight hundred thousand. Almost a million dollars on completely unnecessary endeavors like this.
True, I could just report the incident to the police, but that would be me digging downwards into an already dug grave for myself. I don't want them to investigate the perpetrators of these assassination attempts that would eventually come back to me and why they want to kill me in the first place. Frankly speaking, being free, as long as I'm able to anticipate and counter the attacks, is much better than being in jail, rotting away, when there's so much I could do with the money I have now.
As long as Giuseppe Ricci sits as the head of the Ricci household, my life is under threat, so I just have to wait for him to die or step off. The average lifespan of any man in that kind of trade is nothing more than the mid-ages, anyway, so if I can live past that, I should be safe.
Living takes one step at a time, and that is exactly what I do. Calmly, with the corpse still sprawled on my beautiful king-sized bed, which I would now have to replace, adding up to the cost of things that I spend on this desperate endeavor of staying alive, I waltz into the bathroom to prepare myself for the corporate world. As much as I'd hate to admit it, my life is not as fun now as it was then…and neither are the women; crazy, risk-taking women that have this beautiful air of danger lingering around them, just how I like it, do not exist in the real world and it's something I'm having difficulty adjusting to, but it’s a life my father would have wanted me to live, instead of taking over him as the highest ranked assassin.
"Alan?" I speak to the receiver while I put on the finishing touches to my dressing.
"Mr. Russo." He greets back. If he were here with me, he'd do it with a nod just a little lower than casual greetings.
"Cleaning again. Male, probably six feet. Bulky, so...would take up a lotta space. Bring a big wrap. It's messy too. Really messy." I brief him.
"I'll get my boys to do it before you get home from work." He responds.
"You sure they can handle it?" The cufflinks snap into place, and my three-piece suit looks as good as I want it to be.
"Jill and Travis. You've known them since they were recruited. It's been four years now."
I grunt in understanding. "Tell them to be quick in case the cops come over. I already told them I work with mechanical tools, so that should explain the occasional loud noises, but I think they're catching on to the fact that a billionaire has very little to do with a power toolbox...at least, to mistakenly drop it every now and then...sometimes twice in one night."
"They'll be at your door before you leave your driveway... although that depends on when you'll be leaving."
"Thirty minutes max."
"Just after you leave your driveway, then. They'll give the house a makeover too, as a complementary for the extra grand you'll give them." I can just imagine the sheepish smile on his face as he says that.
Greedy goblin.
"I'll give that grand to Pauline myself this weekend at her birthday party." I chuckled. His daughter is younger, the complete opposite of her father's grotesqueness. The beautiful nine-year-old and her baby brother developed a fondness for me after their father was once taken into custody by Federal agents who rightfully suspected his cleaning company of terrorist-related activities.
While they were right about the fact that Alan was involved in the disposal of evidence and altering it in some cases, they guessed incorrectly who he was selling the services to and ended up closing the case due to lack of evidence. His wife had science passed away from leukemia, and Alan trusted no one but me to be with the children through the entire process. It was here that I had to put my father's skills to the test...and I didn't perform too shabbily. The love of Pauline and Braun is an attestation to that.
"Ah, well...in that case, you'll end up with a regular messy house, and for that reason why, I can't object. The kids would be overjoyed to see you. Now, fuck off. I've got work to do." He shoos me and hangs up immediately after.
His way of being down to earth is relieving.
I leave behind the mess and make my way through the messy house to the garage, leaving a five-hundred-dollar wad with a note to clean the house on it. Alan was right. My house needs a makeover. Travis and Jill would do it for much less, even, but I'm a generous man.
The choice of what car to drive isn't a difficult one, made simple by the fact that I pick my Mercedes Maybach every time. If I made it a point to try and choose, I'd probably end up walking to work due to indecision. There are just so many.
With Hannah probably already waiting for me in the office, today, just as every other, shouldn't suck much.
Chapter two
