11. Tony
Chapter 11
Tony
F uck knows what I’m going to do. I know Frankie is ready, but the boss is going to fucking kill me when he finds out he is in fact a fucking she.
Rising from my desk, I open my office door and call Frankie over.
She jumps out of the training ring and makes her way toward me, unraveling the white tape that’s wrapped around her knuckles.
Her straight white teeth bite down together as she pulls at the piece of tape that’s got stuck, and she pulls it free, leaving remnants in her mouth.
She gets halfway through the door, then turns her head and spits out the tape.
This woman is on another planet. She looks so fucking elegant, yet spits on the floor like it’s the most natural thing to do.
“What’s up, Tony?” she asks as she sinks into the chair opposite my desk.
“A job came in from the boss. Now the fight is off he wants you to go straight to work.” I drop my head, sure she’s a fighter and a fucking good one at that.
“Sounds good, what’s the job?” Her ass moves forward as she perches on the end of the seat, the hunger shining brightly in her crystal blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, Frankie, I thought you’d get a chance to work your way up to this, but the orders have been given,” I tell her as I run my hands across my freshly shaven head.
“Okay, but why me?” Her head tilts to the side. “Why not one of the guys, they’ve done it before it’s their bread and butter right?” Her shoulder rises in question, and I can see that she’s interested even though she’s questioning his reasons.
“Right, but we have you, and it’s time to prove yourself. It’s not your first rodeo is it?” I raise my brows as she looks at me, and I see shock on her face, but it’s only a flicker, if I had blinked, I would have missed it.
“Who’s the target, Tony?” She rolls her eyes at me which makes me smile, this woman has an attitude that I just love.
Her ratings suggest she’s a killer in the ring. It’s all there in black and white. The records of what she’s done to every one of her opponents are there for us to read.
They didn’t die by accident, it was intentional. She went in meaning to finish these men, and her bank balance shows she was paid well to do it.
The only difference here is that not all her kills will be in the ring.
“You need to be at the rooftop bar in midtown tonight. It’s important that it looks like he died of natural causes,” I explain “I can get hold of what you need, and you’ll just need to slip it into his drink.” I stand and head toward the shabby filing cabinet in the corner.
I turn when I hear the metal chair clatter on the floor. “Are you fucking serious?” Her voice is raised, and she leans forward, both hands flat on the desk. “If I’m doing this job, I’m doing it my way. I’m not walking in there following your orders, Tony. I can’t work that way.” She straightens, pulls her hair from her ponytail, and runs her hands through her glossy locks.
“I know what I’m doing. You wouldn’t have me here if I didn’t. Send me what details you have on him, and I’ll get it done.” She strides toward the door and pulls it hard so it bangs against the wall. I stand, unmoving from the corner of the room, my hand sitting on top of the cold filing cabinet.
What the fuck just happened? I’m not going to lie, I’m shocked. I didn’t expect a reaction like that.
Shaking my head, I slam my fist down making the cabinet rattle and go back to the desk. Sitting in the chair I look at the paperwork in front of me, then I clear all the clutter away with one swoop of my arm, watching as everything falls to the floor in a mess … just like the fucking situation I am in.
Fuuuuck! If she fucks this up, we’re both dead.
I’m pissed at her, and the fact she stormed out fucks me off even more.
I bend down and pick up the papers I need and head out of the unit. I need to give her the low down and make sure she really understands what’s at stake here.
Pulling up to her address, I step out of my deep blue McLaren Artura V6, one of the best purchases I’ve ever made, the sleek cream interior is pure luxury.
Looking up I am surprised this is her address, so I double check the GPS. It’s not well kept and looks shabby, and knowing roughly what money she has access to, I am surprised she chose to stay here, especially when she can afford something more luxurious.
Walking up the steps, I press the buzzer but nothing happens, so I try the door. Unsurprisingly it opens, and I walk right in, shaking my head. I head toward the group gathering on the stairs, who fall silent as I pass, and go to her apartment.
I knock, hearing her footsteps come closer to the door, and I expect to hear a few locks click but no. She pulls the door open with a yank, as it appears to get jammed.
“What do you want, Tony? I need to get ready for tonight.” She moves, allowing me to enter but heads back to what must be her bedroom.
“I can’t send this information to you over the phone, it could be traced. We have to discuss what’s going to happen and what will happen if you fuck this up,” I tell her.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she calls from the bedroom.
“Look, this is the guy you’re after, and you know the rest, what you don’t know is if you fail, then that’s it. Lights out,” I tell her “The boss isn’t into forgiveness.” I raise my brow.
“I get it. We’ve had this conversation, and I can do this. The guy needs to die, tonight, natural causes … got it.” She smiles at me but I’m worried.
I’m not sure she’s taking this as seriously as she should. I’m not sure her bosses in the UK were quite like the one she has now.
“Tony, stop worrying. I’ll text the number you sent when I’m done, then I’ll text you.” She’s putting stuff into her purse as she attempts to reassure me.
“Call me before you text the boss,” I tell her.
“Sure, whatever. Now, unless you want to give me a ride, which I very much doubt, you need to leave. Otherwise I’m going to be late.”
I stand and head toward the door, “Good luck, Frankie.”