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Chapter 47: A Bullet For My Lover
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Codename: Blackheart Chapter 48: One Year Later pt 1
As I pull up to Il Segreto in my Jaguar, grab my handcrafted sterling silver clutch purse and open it to once again confirm Crimson is carefully tucked away inside. I close my purse back up, pull down my visor, and examine my makeup. My ivory skin is accentuated by my smokey black eyes with gold glitter pressed into the corner of my eyes. My lips are painted black as midnight with glitter that sparkles brighter than the stars. My black hair, which has grown exceptionally long over the past year, is up in a high, fluffy bun with tendrils coming down framing my face and hiding the faint scar that travels down the left side of my hairline. I gingerly touch the scar with my freshly manicured mirror chrome painted nails and reminisce on just how far I’ve come in this past year. ~FLASHBACK ONE YEAR AGO~ “That’s it. We’re retiring,” I hear my mother whisper yell in Italian. I feel myself waking up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes, but even so, I take comfort in knowing my mother is here,
Codename: Blackheart Chapter 49: One Year Later pt 2
~FLASHBACK A YEAR AGO~ “Anyone ever tell you what a wonderful couple you two make?” John gushes. “You would be the first, but thank you,” I say with a bright smile. “Honestly feels like we’ve been together forever,” Elijah coos as he kisses my temple again. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s done that now. Before John can throw more compliments at our fake relationship, my phone rings. I reach out and take my phone off the coffee table. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” I say as I get up and make my way to the balcony while Elijah watches on curiously. I close the sliding door behind me and answer the call. “It’s Victor,” I hear the voice greet. “I can’t take on another job at the moment, I’m still working on this one.” “I wish that’s why I was calling,” he says, his voice sounding ominous, yet filled with guilt. “Then why are you calling?” “A letter arrived for you today… it’s from The Tournament,” he says anxiously. I sigh and lean against the rail. Fuck my luck. I glan
Codename: Blackheart Epilogue
Elijah and I walk down the street arm and arm as I shove a very delicious mango mochi in my mouth. I glance to my right to see Elijah looking at me with shock on his face. “What?” I ask with a mouth full of mochi. “Did you just eat the last mochi?” I swallow what’s in my mouth and smile at him, “Yup.” “I can’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head. “Hey, you drank the last of my vegetable juice this morning,” I remind him. “Touché,” he concedes. We continue to walk for another block, just enjoying the nice evening air. The streets aren’t too busy, so it’s relatively quiet. The peaceful stillness gives me time to think and reflect and get lost in my own thoughts. Elijah’s business has been slow this month, as has mine, so we’ve both had more time to spend together just enjoying each other’s company, and we’ve both needed it. Especially since my last job had me hunting someone down all over France which was goddamn exhausting. After Peyton’s ‘accident’, it left Elijah as the so
Codename: Blackheart Chapter 1: Blackheart pt 1
Three hours. That’s how long I’ve been laying in the back of this SUV. Thank god it’s clean or that would have only added to my irritation. But come on. Three goddamn hours? How long does it take to bang a hooker? Martin Allard; thirty-five; born December 13th, 1985, at Perry County Memorial Hospital in Tell City, Indiana to Bruce and Sandra Allard and is their only child. He has an MBA and a Bachelor of Arts degree in International Relations from Roanoke College and is currently the CFO of Alke, a sports merchandising company based out of Columbus, Ohio. He’s married to Lacey Allard, née Taylor and has no children. On paper, this guy is squeaky clean. Donates to charity; a pillar of the community and highly sought after in his field. But appearances can be deceiving. Little do people know, Mr Allard is a very naughty boy. When he’s not busy winning awards for his business prowess and humanitarianism he’s at home beating – among other things – his wife for fun. But he’s a generous a
Codename: Blackheart Chapter 2: Blackheart pt 2
We drive for a few minutes with Mr Allard death gripping the wheel till I can see the bones of his knuckles practically glowing in the darkness of the car. I instruct him to pullover, and he complies. He turns off the engine and manages to compose himself. “What do you want from me?” He asks in a level tone. “I don’t want anything. Your wife on the other hand would love to see you dead. Can’t say I blame her. You’ve been very naughty Mr Allard,” I tsk at him. His eyes widen in surprise before shifting into angry slits. “My fucking wife sent you?” He seethes, his hands balling into fists on the steering wheel. I say nothing, I’m not one for repeating myself or answering obvious questions. “I knew that bitch would bring me nothing but trouble the moment I stuck my dick in her. Whatever she’s paying you I’ll double it,” he offers, fear gone from his body only to be replaced with rage. I hate when they try to barter, it’s pointless. A contract is a contract. If you don’t stay true to
Codename: Blackheart Chapter 3: A Normal Day pt 1
God dammit! Severing major arteries is messy business, and I’m usually able to keep myself out of the line of fire, but not today it seems. My black hair is matted with blood, my maroon bra looks black from the blood soaking into it, and my matching maroon satin and lace panties are soaked and not in the good way. The gorgeous tattoos that cover the ivory skin of my arms and legs are now veiled in blood. I look horrific. But sometimes this comes with the job. Killing people can get messy sometimes, and not everything goes to plan. Like in this case. Everything was running smoothly, going exactly how I wanted, but then one little action forced me to deviate from my plan slightly and now here I am, straddling a dead man while looking like a living breathing Jackson Pollock painting. But let me go back a bit and explain how I got here. Thirty-nine-year-old Miroslav Đorđević was a Serbian arms dealer who, as it turns out, had been skimming off the top and his partner wasn’t happy about i
Codename: Blackheart Chapter 4: A Normal Day pt 2
Once I’ve checked out I get in a cab and am taken to a private airfield where my jet is patiently waiting. It’s a Gulfstream G550 and she is a beauty. I smile as I see Marcel stepping down from the jet. Marcel is the steward on my jet and has been for the past five years, but he’s practically family. In fact, he often spends holidays with my family. Marcel is forty-nine with short, limp dark brown hair fading grey at the edges. He has a salt and pepper trimmed beard and soft hazel eyes. Outside of the frown lines on his forehead he only has some slight creasing around the corners of his eyes, but no other wrinkles to be seen. He always dresses sharply and is currently in black slacks, black Armani dress shoes, a black pinstripe shirt and a black tie with a gold diamond pattern in the design. He’s also wearing his usual gold wolf cufflinks. He loves anything to do with wolves, he even owns one as a pet which he named Blade, who is absolutely gorgeous! I step out of the cab as Marcel
Codename: Blackheart Chapter 5: A Normal Day pt 3
After a relaxing journey, the pilot announces we’ll be landing soon, so I get up and open the right drawer of the cabinet opposite the bed. I pull out the sleek black case and open it using fingerprint ID. Nestled safely inside is my old reliable Wilson Combat EDC X9. I love this gun. My father still maintains his gun of choice is far better, but whatever. This is the gun for me. 9mm calibre, 7.6” length with a 4” barrel and a beautifully ornate G10 starburst grip and beavertail that houses the grip safety. Weighing at 2.38lb with a 15+1 capacity, it’s definitely my gun of choice. I take out my beauty and start loading it. Once ready to go. I strap my gun holster to my thigh and strap in my gun. I grab Crimson who is now clean as a whistle and strap her on the other side of the holster, then adjust my skirt. I place the burner phones in my black handbag, and I am ready for action. “That’s what you’re wearing?” Marcel asks with a concerned frown. “Yes. What’s wrong with what I’m wea
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