I finish arming myself and set off. After a few steps, I hear Leo speak.
“Take care.”
I glance over my shoulder. What’s this? Brotherly concern? I don’t need it.
“Just stay put,” I tell him before going on my way.
I don’t need another person worrying about me. What I need is for him to stay safe so my mother doesn’t die of a broken heart and Orso doesn’t kill me. The rest I can take care of.
I take out the two guards around the perimeter first. Sudden, sharp blows to a precise spot behind the neck that render them unconscious in a second. No need to waste bullets. Then I climb up to the roof, moving like a shadow against the wall. I keep my eyes peeled for cameras and make my way around them. My ears pick up every sound – rustling leaves, clock hands ticking. So far, no voices. The house is as still as a coffin.
That means one of two things. One, Damian Esposito isn’t here, which means he must have known the Ursini family was making a move, which means we’re all screwed. Two, he’s asleep, oblivious to everything that’s happening. I hope it’s the second.
There’s only one way to find out.
Once I get on the roof, I make my way towards a corner and drop down on the balcony I spotted earlier. I land on one of the guards and throw a tranquilizer dart at the other before he can fire his gun at me. He falls to the floor. I give the man beneath me a solid punch and he, too, loses consciousness. Two more down.
I go inside the room. The Rembrandt on the wall catches my eye but I ignore it. I know Orso said to get the painting and then kill Damian, but I’m doing things the other way around. It will be easier to sneak out the painting once Damian is dead.
I walk to his bed, frowning when I see a woman in it with him. Well, at least she’s asleep. I’ll just have to do my job without waking her. She’ll never even know I was here.
I stand over my target and take out my knife. His body is turned towards the woman, his back to me. Good. I can easily run my blade through his carotid. The only problem is that the blanket goes all the way up to his chin.
I pull them down slowly, just a few inches, and raise my blade, ready to take life. It remains in the air, though, as I see what’s underneath.
Damian’s neck is already sliced open.
Fuck. Someone else was here. And not more than ten minutes ago, judging from the blood still soaking into the crimson sheets. Another assassin? Who?
Quickly, I glance around. No one’s there. Whoever it is, he’s gone. I should be, too.
I take the painting off the wall, remove it from its frame, and place it in the container I’ve brought. Then I start making my way out of the house. Normally, I go in slowly, go out fast. This time, though, I’m aware there’s another killer on the loose. He may no longer be in that room, but he may still be in this house. And I have no idea what he wants. For all I know, he could be out to cut my neck, too.
I don’t run into anyone, though. I’m almost out the door when I hear a woman scream from upstairs.
Fuck.
I dash out. A few moments later, I hear a man shouting from the house.
“Hey!”
I keep running.
He starts firing his gun rapidly, desperately. I take cover behind a tree and wait for the storm of bullets to end. One hits the grass a few feet from me. Another sends bits of bark flying into the air right next to my shoulder.
When the firing stops, I take out my gun and shoot him in the head. No mercy now. I see the other guard preparing to fire from a window and I take him out as well.
Then I continue running through the woods, in the direction of the van where I hope Leo is still waiting.
I hoped too much.
He appears in front of me under a glimmer of moonlight, panting and with a worried expression on his face.
I frown. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in the van?”
“I know,” Leo answers, taking off his cap and running his hands through his hair as he catches a breath. “But I heard screaming and gunshots and I just got worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” I scoff. “Since when…?”
I stop because I see a scar above his eyebrow, one Leo isn’t supposed to have. A lump forms in my throat.
Fuck.
He notices me staring and tries to put his cap back on. I seize it from him and glare him down.
“Antonio?”
I know it’s him. The scar he tried to hide beneath his cap. The excellent behavior. The fact that he hasn’t smoked or cursed. The reason he’s been quiet and hasn’t looked me in the eye is probably that he doesn’t want me to find out his secret.