Chapter 3- the job

MIRA

The cold light of dawn shone into the room as I sat there, staring anxiously out of the window. The clock struck the hour. It was time for me to go.

I jumped to my feet and hurried to grab my car keys. I stopped when I saw my reflection in the mirror.

My hair stuck out all over my head. My eyes were wild and frightened with dark shadows and a bruise under them. No surprise there.

I hadn't slept at all. I had spent the night worrying about Rocco.

I didn't kid myself that Lucius wouldn't hurt him just because he was a little boy. Lucius was the kind of criminal with no code or conscience.

Grabbing my keys, I yanked on a sweater and left the house.

I didn't remember the drive to Lucius's house. I just had a confused memory of sitting on the very edge of my seat, gripping the steering wheel, of horns honking, of drivers giving me the finger as I sped through the early morning traffic.

When the tall, wrought iron gates of Lucius's mansion swung open a couple of hours later, it felt like I was revisiting an old nightmare.

"You were stupid, Mira. Stupid," I cursed, angrily dashing away the tears that came to my eyes.

How the hell had I convinced myself that I was safe from Lucius when we lived in the same country? I should have known that he was sure to find me. I should have left the country with Rocco. Now it was too late.

With a squeal of tires, I pulled up in front of the house. I marched past the imposing statues at the entrance, up the front steps. The front door opened before I got there.

Carlos Hemingway, Lucius's consigiliere, short, balding, exactly the way I remembered him, stood there smiling at me.

"Mira," he said in his quiet voice. "It really is nice to see you. It has been so long."

I bit my lip to keep in the curses I wanted to hurl at him. Ignoring the hand he stretched out, I shoved him aside as I went in.

For a moment, I froze, staring at the familiar paintings of naked women in the hall. Five years ago, I had sworn never to step foot inside this house.

"Go on. The Don's waiting," Carlos said from behind me.

I took in a deep breath and stepped into the living room. The air there was thick with the smell of cigarette smoke.

Lucius was there, but I only had eyes for the little boy he was talking to.

"Rocco," I gasped.

My boy turned. Shouting my name and crying, he ran up to me. I went down on my knees and took him in my arms. My voice broke as I said his name again, kissed his face, his hair.

"Are you okay, Rocco?" I asked, pulling away to really look at him. He was still dressed in his pyjamas. He nodded. "I promise that Mummy will make everything alright again."

I looked up when I heard Lucius say something to one of his guards. The big man came forward.

"That's enough," he growled. "Break it off, or he gets hurt."

"Please," I begged, my lips trembling as I tried to hide Rocco behind me. "Please let me talk to him a little."

Begging was useless. I had to watch helplessly as my son was grabbed and carried inside the house.

I remained on my knees for a long moment, panting, trying to control my breathing. I kept telling myself rushing after him would do no good. Slowly, I got to my feet.

At a signal from Lucius, two more guards stepped forward to search me. After that they withdrew.

I was alone with Lucius and Carlos, who stood beside him like an evil twin.

"Sit." Lucius pointed with the tip of his cigar to a chair opposite him.

I perched on the edge of the chair, forcing my shaking hands between my knees.

"So... have you thought about my offer?" he continued.

"I'll do it," I said quickly. "I'll do anything you want. Just don't hurt my boy."

"Hmm. Motherhood has made you sentimental, Mira. "Lucius remarked. "But it suits me. I can see you're prepared to do anything for me now."

Carlos's eyes gleamed triumphantly. I got the feeling all this was his idea. As Lucius's adviser, he was always thinking up ideas like this. I felt my hands curl into fists.

If I got a rope around his throat...

At the look on my face, his smile widened. Lucius's voice broke into my thoughts.

"A drink?" he asked, gesturing to the bottle of spirits at his elbow. I bit back a curse and shook my head. "Oh too bad. More for me then. By the way, you look like hell."

I could tell Lucius was enjoying this. This was like a sick, twisted game to him.

He poured himself a glass, gulped it down, held out a hand without looking at Carlos.

Carlos took a brown envelope from his jacket and placed it reverently in Lucius's hand.

"Let's get down to business then, shall we?" Lucius said. "Here. Open it."

I swallowed as I took the envelope. It felt like I was holding dynamite.

It took several tries before my hands were steady enough to tear it open.

In it was the picture of a man; broad shouldered, good looking with sea green eyes, wavy dark hair.

There was something tough and ruthless in his face however that warned that this wasn't a man to cross.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"That-" said Lucius, leaning forward to tap the picture. "-is our target. I need you to get a secret I want out of him."

"And then?" I said in a whisper.

I sat very still. I knew what was coming next, but I had never wished I was wrong like I did at that moment.

Lucius smiled as he said what I had been dreading. "And then I want him dead."