Chapter 4 - Nina
NINA
I’m vibrating.
This is terrifying. The scariest thing I’ve ever done, including that time I watched a horror movie on Halloween. But it’s also fun. Exhilarating.
The blood pumps in my veins.
BunnytheKiller
My profession is none of your business.
Except, it kind of is, and how I’m going to convince him I’m an assassin, I’ve no idea. But more to the point, I need to know what I’m dealing with.
I search online for Blake and Norwood.
The summary at the top of the page snaps immediately, telling me what I kind of already knew.
Blake Norwood probably refers to Blake Thorne, the leader of the mafia in this part of London.
I’ve been texting a mafia boss.
The kingpin of Norwood, London. He’s forty years old. Six-foot-five tall. I even live in his territory. And there’s no question that my brother works for him.
Confirmation in that summary should be enough, but I tell myself it can be unreliable. That’s a decent justification for clicking on the gossip website that talks about the London Mafia Bosses.
Blake
How are you going to prove it, Bunny?
I ignore the mafia boss’ question that pings on my phone because just at that moment the webpage loads and I’m staring at a picture of Blake Thorne.
He’s stunning. There is no other word for it.
The first photo is a shot clearly taken at a mafia event.
There are people in the background. Blake is looking over his shoulder, right into the camera lens.
He has salt-and-pepper hair. Black with grey almost totally evenly distributed through.
It’s thick though, and my fingers itch to touch it.
I bet his hair is silky. His face is strong and angular, with a square jaw.
It’s covered in black stubble, as if he carelessly hasn’t shaved for several days.
I wonder how that would feel against my cheek.
But all that masculine energy isn’t the most compelling thing about him.
His eyes are extraordinary. They’re pale-green, and I didn’t even realise eyes could be that colour.
It’s a liquid, soft green like a sunlight faded sage you see in fancy country-style kitchens.
Which makes him sound tame. But his expression?
It’s… Dark. Foreboding. Black lashes and a swipe of black brows.
His lips are full, but set in a serious line.
Almost cruel.
This is the man I’ve been talking to about “ass ass in”, like I’m a thirteen-year-old sniggering at the back of class.
Which I was never cool enough to do. Too rule-abiding and worried.
Whelp, I’m making up for lost time now. On balance, I should have been chatty at school. Less likely to be executed by a man so beautiful that razor salespeople would weep if they saw him for wanting to have him in their adverts.
Blake
Prove your credentials as a killer.
BunnytheKiller
I don’t have to justify to you. I have plenty of work.
Blake
I’ll pay you a million to terminate me.
BunnytheKiller
Too easy.
Blake
Blake Thorne.
BunnytheKiller
Yes, I know who you are, Boss.
I do now I’ve looked him up online.
Blake
Half up front.
I suck in a breath. That’s a huge amount of money.
BunnytheKiller
And half after I kill you? What are you going to do, remember me in your will?
“I leave a house’s worth of money to the person who murdered me.” I’m sure the lawyer will have no issues with that.
Blake
Half up front, the rest when I catch you.
BunnytheKiller
I can see a trap, Boss.
Blake
You say you’re a for-hire killer. I want to hire you.
BunnytheKiller
I’m picky about my clients.
Blake
You’re literally already in my group chat and calling me Boss.
He has a fair point.
BunnytheKiller
I’ll think about it.
I’ll have to. Because I have no clue how I’m going to get out of this mess. And I think, despite everything in me that screams I should stop, I’m having fun.