The Attackers

WILHEMINA

"Woah!" Sylvain laughed. "What in Whisky's name are you talking about? You want her dead? Why?"

My grip around my phone tightened. "Can you do it? Or do I need to find someone else?"

"Nah. I don't think so. I'm just a little curious, tho. Why would you want her dead? I thought we had the conviction that she was your sister or something?"

"She's not." I cut in crisply. "And stop asking me questions."

I hated how his questions made me feel. I shouldn't feel anything.

He went silent for a while, I had to check to be certain the call hadn't ended.

"You're more lethal than most of my men. If she isn't important to you, why can't you just get it done yourself?"

There was a spark within me. I craned my neck to the window and stared blankly at her coffee shop.

"I was wrong for calling you," I gritted and made to end the call.

"When do you want it done?" His words stopped me.

I exhaled deeply, leaning my head against my cushion. "As soon as possible."

"To