The Don's Assassin

~Alina~

Her eyes slid to the wall clock hanging just above the rolling TV. Even though she knew what the time told, she couldn’t help but nervously check again. The room was dark, with the light from the television as the only source of light.

“It’s 1am in the morning, why haven’t they gotten back home yet?” Alina thought to herself as she bit through her fingernails anxiously. The feeling of unrest settling deep in her stomach, she couldn't shake off the weird feeling that something was terribly wrong.

She sat on the couch, staring at the movie she loved rewatching, but now just felt like a distraction for her wary mind. Alina pulled out her phone to call, but quietly pocketed it again. She didn’t want to call and overreact, it’s not the first time they’re getting home late after all.

But still… Tonight was special, it wasn’t like any other night… it was the night just after her birthday, and surely her father and brother couldn’t just miss it for a whole day without a good reason, right? She thought.

When she finally heard the familiar soft hum of her father’s car engine from the driveway, she excitedly jumped from the couch, her heart beat calming down a bit. “Well finally. I’m gonna have to give them a piece of my mind once they get in.”

Alina joked halfheartedly, but she was just glad they were back home. She rushed to the door, not waiting for them to meet her in the living room instead.

Alina had her dainty hands wrapped around the door knob but before she could twist and yank the door open, she heard rustling on the other end of the door and a weight on the knob, pulling it back with an impossible strength.

“Daddy?” Alina asked carefully, fear dripping from her like icy water.

“Alina! Don’t open the door, stay inside!” her father shouted from outside as he held onto the door knob tighter like his life depended on it.

“Daddy, daddy! What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Alina asked, twisting the door knob even more furiously than before. She ran to the kitchen in search of something.

“Yes! Got it!” she exclaimed mentally, her breath coming out in rushed gasps as she grabbed the sharpest kitchen knife she kept away. With the knife in her hand she rushed back to the door.

“Papa, please open up, let me help!” she begged, hitting the door loudly. Tears flowed down her face as she frustratedly tried to get through to her dad.

Alina peered through the glass peephole on the door, watching the scene unfold in front of her as the attacker in black furiously charged at her father with a knife. 

“Ali, listen to me— goddamnit! Stay put— and don’t you dare come— out for any reason.” Matteo, her father, said as he struggled to ward off his attacker.

Living in an environment where houses are very spaced from each other and crowded with many bushes and trees, the chances of anyone hearing their screams are slim to none.

The attacker, with one sharp movement, used his hand to weaken her fathers rustling movement with a blow. The next stunt that happened afterwards was like a dream, a very bad one Alina desperately hoped to wake up from.

The knife descended and slit her father’s throat.

She saw it. 

She saw the blood, how it sprayed everywhere, on the killer, on the doorstep. How it sullied her father’s clothes and how it poured down from his hands as he tried to stop the bleeding, but the blood kept pouring too quickly to stop.

“NO, NO NO! Daddy daddy please don’t leave me!” she screamed, pressing her face against the door as the killer landed one final jab to the center of his chest, finishing up the job. 

Matteo staggered back, his weight against the wood, still trying to protect his baby girl even at the brink of death.

Her father’s knees buckled, but still stood guarding the door, until the black masked killer retreated into the darkness of the night.

Alina didn’t wait a second longer before yanking the door open from her father’s weakened grip. His limp body collapsed into hers as she cradled him in her arms. Ali had a baby blue pyjamas shirt and shorts on, but they were now coloured grimly with the crimson blood that gushed endlessly.

“You’re— safe…” She watched the life slip from her father’s eyes as he choked those last words in relief.

In the distance from her ringing ears, she heard the faint sounds of police and ambulance sirens. 

It’s too late.

They were too late.

“Dad,” her fingers gently stroked his face. “I’m right here, don’t leave me please.” she whispered as sobs racked her chest.

Suddenly memories of her and her dad played out in her mind. Memories of their Saturday ice cream dates, or the time he got attacked by a cat at the grocery store. That one time he made her bullies pay for what they did to her in 5th grade.

Something slipped from the pocket of his jacket, it was a present, wrapped delicately in a pink wrapper. The small box laid in the pool of blood as Alina’s numb fingers reached out to pick it up.

A loud sound emanated from her. A raw, loud and raging cry — mixed with anger, grief and disbelief. The loud cry kept going on, breaking her, wrapping around her like a blanket of thorns. 

Her pain was indescribable, even when the paramedics came and the officers issued questions after questions, Alina remained rooted in her father’s blood, numb and unmoving.

Her clutch on the tiny box tightened. The last symbol of love from her father, his last goodbye. Death is always unexpected for most people, but for Alina, she didn’t see her father’s death as unexpected.

A planned and organized death was offered to her father. The killer was roaming free at that very moment.

A vow, a resolve, a promise flamed in Alina’s heart as something dangerous snapped in her.

She would hunt down the man who killed her father until there was nowhere else to run, and she’ll kill him just as mercilessly with her own hands.