The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 21: Against the Odds

VALENTINA

"Holy shit, babe," Allison whispered in Val's ear, a grin of genuine excitement pulling on her full lips. "This is incredible."

They stood on a platform overlooking Malevelo, and pride flared in Val's chest.

At least one hundred men and women filled the old garment factory, which she'd renovated into a high-end fight club. Velvet couches and seats were situated throughout the dark space, offering unobstructed views of an octagon cage at the center. Every attendee wore evening attire, just as the secret invitations requested.

Val squeezed her tablet, which held every detail about the evening in meticulous detail, closer to her chest and savored the sight of her creation. "It is," she hummed, unable to contain her own smile.

She turned away from the crowds of New York's wealthiest and most-corrupt and faced her friend. "Thanks again for coming tonight."

Allison waved off her thanks, her golden bracelet shimmering in the overhead lighting. "I wouldn't miss it. You're not the only one that worked hard to bring Malevelo to life."

She winked, and Val laughed. Despite Allison's easygoing words, Val knew how hard it was for her to attend such a public gathering. Of course, dozens of Romano soldiers and guards littered the old factory, maintaining peace in an otherwise dangerous environment.

Even so, she'd ordered Luca to personally guard Allison that evening– an arrangement that she guessed both of her friends would enjoy. He stood on the other side of Allison, and Val pretended like she didn't notice him admiring her friend's beauty every time she looked up.

"I'm going to go check on the bookkeepers," Val announced, but Allison and Luca already had their heads tucked together, talking about something else.

Val descended the short flight of stairs, the skirt of her black, long-sleeved gown trailing on the step behind her. Her hair was pulled into a neat, elegant bun at the base of her skull, accentuating the deep v-cut of the dress. A simple diamond necklace decorated her neck.

At first glance, she must've looked like she belonged on the arm of one of the powerful men in attendance. No one would've guessed that she planned the entire evening.

As she moved down the steps, her gaze scanned the room for familiar faces.

Her father and uncle sat at a private booth with an excellent view of the fighting ring. Several capos joined them in the booth, cigars pinched between their lips and arrogant laughter on their tongues. Beautiful waitresses carried trays of alcohol to their table at a steady, continuous pace. By all accounts, it appeared that her father was reveling in the success of the evening.

Adriano, too, partook in the festivities, although he kept Elisa tucked securely by his side, her golden blonde hair practically glowing in the dim lighting. She stared wide-eyed at the cage, where two custodians scrubbed at a puddle of blood that had spilled in the last fight.

Val made a mental note to go to their table and rescue her friend, as soon as she finished with the bookkeepers.

Waiting for her at the bottom of the steps, Val's betrothed stood amongst several of the most prominent stockbrokers in New York. He schmoozed them with ease, wielding his signature laugh– loud and fake and grating.

The sound set Val's teeth on edge, but Ezra's peers were practically eating out of the palm of his hand.

"Ah, Valentina!" Ezra called when she reached them. His eyes were wider than usual, and he spoke at a startlingly fast speed. "I was just telling these boys how proud I am of you. She planned this whole evening, after all."