Taming His Assassin

She crouched on the roof in the dark, her black clothes blending with the darkness as she looked down at the men she was there for. The only hint of color on her was the blood-red claw mark running down the left side of her mask; it looked like a tiger had clawed over the eye down to the chin.

She had gotten the info about these men from her anonymous informant; the person just started sending texts containing information on skin traders and locations 3 years ago and has been doing so ever since.

It gave Bella a sense of purpose and morals to hold on to so that she would not completely lose herself in the darkness. Tonight, it was these men's turn to pay for their crimes.

“This is why I love downtown; buildings built so close together are a wonderful support,” she thought as she flipped midair and perched on a rooftop, then locked her eyes on the entrance of an abandoned warehouse. This was their hideout, the place where they kept their victims before selling them into a life of horror.

The men she was hunting were sex trafficking "recruiters." They roam the streets monitoring young runaways and the homeless, especially ones between the ages of 10 and 17. They identify the loners, fresh-faced innocent ones, money-hungry and desperate ones, and weak ones; they either offer them a job that supposedly pays a lot within a short period of time, kidnap them, or get them hooked on drugs. Then they tell them they are taking them to a job site or getting more drugs and then kidnap them; this warehouse is where they were kept before they are sold to different motels or pimps.

“Men,” she thought with disgust. “Fuck every last one of them.”

She clenched her fists as she put on her heavy-weight, spiked brass knuckles on her left hand, her leather gloves creaking softly as she reached down to her ankle holster and brought out her trusty Glock 19. She was ready.

The men came out of the building, laughing and shoving each other. Bella waited until they were halfway down the alley before dropping behind them.

With her left hand, she punched the first guy that turned in the throat, crushing his windpipe, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him into the alley brick wall. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath as he gagged on his blood.

The second man turned, eyes wide with shock, but she was already upon him; she swiftly kicked him in the chest, and as he fell, she brought up her gun, shooting him in the head; he was dead before he hit the floor.

The third man turned to run; he recognized her mask and knew it spelled death. They had no gun on them, as they had not expected anyone to attack their hideout, but Bella was faster.

Using his momentum against him, she caught him by the collar, yanking him back and throwing him to the ground. He quickly scrambled to his feet, pulling out a knife. She merely smirked; finally she would get to have a little fun.

She sidestepped his clumsy thrust, grabbing his wrist, twisting, and snapping it; the knife clattered to the ground. He screamed, holding his wrist and retreating, “Come on! Fight! Don’t be a coward,” she said, giggling as she slowly walked towards him. He looked at her fearfully, turning his eyes pale white.

He mumbled something under his breath, whimpering.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Please don’t kill me; I am just following orders,” he whimpered.

Bella laughed, ran towards him, and kneed him in his stomach, making him double over, and she knocked him out with an elbow to the back of his head.

Turning back to the first two, she bent to search their clothes for any keys; she didn’t want to go to the warehouse and then have to come back to get the keys.

As she reached into the pocket of the man with the crushed throat, he grabbed her hand, gurgling blood. “Pl…please…please hel…” he stammered out.

"Oh, that’s rich of you; you still dare to beg for mercy,” Bella said, hitting his hand away. “I was going to put you out of your misery, but now I will leave you to drown in your own blood.” She finally saw a bunch of keys in a pocket.

As she stood up, she noticed a movement from the corner of her eye; she ducked in time as a knife whizzed by, narrowly missing her.  The first man had recovered very fast, surprising her; she knew she had used enough force when knocking him out.

She stood up and ran very fast towards him. She jumped and gave him a spinning kick. She had underestimated him before; she won't make that mistake again.

Before he could get up, she was on him, blowing him on his head and chest in quick succession. He tried to shield himself, but her fists found their target with brutal precision. Blood sprayed from his nose, and he fell to the ground. She paused as she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket; only a few people had this number.

Groaning in pain, he tried to reach for his phone, but Bella stomped on his hand, crushing it under her boot. "Awww, be patient a little I will continue playing with you in a while.”

He screamed, but she silenced him with a vicious kick to the jaw. He slumped.

Bella placed a foot on his neck, slowly increasing pressure. Ignoring his struggles, she brought out her phone. Looking at the screen, she saw it was her assistant Maria calling.

“Yes?” She answered breathlessly

“Did I catch you at the wrong time?”

"No, I was just having a little fun,” she replied.

“Bella….” Maria said it in a warning tone.

“Oh, don’t be a worrywart; I didn’t blow up anything this time around. Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Maria sighed loudly over the phone; she could literally see her holding the bridge of her nose in frustration “You know what? I’m not even going to ask; I know you clean up well afterward. I just wanted to remind you that the fundraiser you wanted to attend is tomorrow, and don't you dare go there with any visible scars or injuries. I have booked your favorite makeup artist and hairstylist. Bye.”

She frowned a little as she hung up. Maria has grown into a worrywart and a little more controlling recently.

She looked around the alley, blood splattered on the wall and dumpsters. "Well, that was a nice workout,” she muttered, flexing her fingers, admiring the blood and bits of skin staining her brass knuckles.

Looking down at the guy under her foot, she casually shoots him in the lungs; he should suffer a little before dying.

Humming a song, she walked to the warehouse and then tried different keys on the bunch till the right one opened the door. Inside the warehouse was dimly lit; the ground floor was bare, but the upper floor had cells. Going up the stairs, she saw only 2 were occupied. Teens huddled together; most had bruises.

She sighed. Human trafficking is becoming more rampant in the area; it didn’t used to be like this. When she found the ones responsible, she would rip them a new asshole.

She threw the keys into one of the cells; the oldest boy crouched and picked it up.

“Free yourself and the others. There is a bag of cash in the black car down the alley, the key still in the ignition. Get out of here, return home, or get a place for yourselves. I will be watching all of you; if any of you try to dupe the others or squander the money, I will know,” she told them.

"Now, ciao, be good kids; I’ve got a summons to obey.”

As she headed down the stairs, she heard one whisper in wonder, “Do you know who that was?”

“Yeah, that was Nightclaw,” a voice replied; she guessed it was the older boy.

“Fuck! I can’t believe Nightclaw rescued me; wait till I tell others about this,” she heard another say with awe in his voice.

Bella smiled; she freaking loved this part of her job. She walked out of the building and to her bike quickly.

She must not be late for the gala. Maria will kill her after all the stress she went through to get the ticket for her.

The tickets hadn’t been easy to get, nor cheap, but she had her reasons.

The city couldn't seem to stop talking about him. The billionaire playboy philanthropist, if half the rumors were true, Alexandro De Luca was no ordinary man.

And she had a habit of looking into things that intrigued her.

Time to see what all the fuss was about.