Chapter 2

Rosalia's POV

Suddenly, the door opened, and a calm, authoritative voice filled the room. “Take who away?”

We all turned toward the door.

A middle-aged man with gray hair and gentle hazel eyes, seated in a wheelchair, entered the room, his gaze sweeping around with concern. “What's happening here? Pablo, let go of the young woman.”

The bald enforcer immediately released his grip on me, and I stumbled, struggling to regain my balance. My hope was renewed.

The gray-haired man was Vito Mancini, the head of the organization. Disabled in his legs, he relied on a wheelchair for mobility. When I had first been brought to the organization, he had supervised my work. Unlike the ruthless individuals around, Vito was lenient and gentle. Recently, however, his health had deteriorated, and much of his authority had been delegated to Imelda.

Though I knew he wasn't a saint—after all, he owned this organization—I believed he was a more compassionate person to plead to than the unfeeling Imelda.

I immediately begged him, my voice trembling with desperation. “Sir, please help me. I can't do it… I can't kill. I really can't. You have to help me… please.”

Vito's brows furrowed as he turned to Imelda. “What's the matter here, Imelda?”

Imelda's cold eyes fixated on me sternly before looking at Vito. “Nothing much, sir. We received a mission to assassinate Carmine Montanari, and she was picked for the job. But she seems to have a problem with the decisions of the organization. So, of course, I let Pablo take her away for a… small talk,” she said in an undermining tone.

I glared at her angrily. She seemed to think assassinating Carmine Montanari was a small job. Then why hadn't she handled the job herself? Why did she have to pick me?

Vito seemed quite shocked by her words. “Kill Mr. Montanari? Is she a trained assassin?” he asked.

Imelda was quiet for a few seconds. “No. But having been in the organization for 10 years, she should be skilled enough to know how it works—”

“Imelda!” Vito cut her short abruptly. “You're sending an untrained person to kill! Is this how you run the organization? Do you want to ruin our reputation?!”

Imelda's thin lips tightened into a straight line as she quieted. She waited until Vito had finished before speaking. “Sir, an assassin would never be able to get close to Mr. Montanari himself. He would be easily suspicious. But someone like her with no aura of blood thirst works perfectly! She has to do the job."

I could see Vito becoming persuaded by her reasoning, so I interjected. “But sir, I really can't. It will end up a failed mission. I have never killed anyone before. I really cannot.”

Vito looked at me and Imelda for a while before sighing. “I understand, my dear. But the point Imelda made is quite valid.” I could feel the hope that had arisen dashing against the wall and turning to pieces like fragile porcelain. What had I expected? My mind felt like it was sinking into muddy waters.

But then he started speaking again, his voice softer. “So let's make it this way. You don't have to carry out the assassination. Instead, we need someone like you on the inside, gathering information. And someone else can handle the assassination. Is that alright with you?”

“Yes! Yes, sir! Thank you…" I felt immense gratitude for his intervention, knowing he had given me a chance to avoid a fate I couldn't bear.

I was allowed to leave, and as soon as I left the office, I immediately ran to find Marcel. However, I didn't have to run far because I soon saw her pacing around the hallway.

“Marcel!” I called out loudly.

She turned around, her eyes wide with surprise when she saw me. She ran up to me and held my shoulders, inspecting me worriedly.

“They didn't do anything to you, did they? Did they let you reject the mission? Are you okay?”

I could feel her trembling hands as she rambled on, and I knew she was just as anxious as I was. So, I held her hands to stop her from continuing.

“Let's talk in my room, Marcel.”

When we got to my room, I told her everything that had happened.

“... So I just have to spy on that man. Even though it's still dangerous, it's better than having to kill him. I'm still so scared from the thought, Marcel.”

Marcel and I lay on my bed, staring at each other blankly.

She rolled onto her back and covered her face with her palms. “I mean… it is better. But you have to be careful. People say he's not to be messed with.”

“I understand.” I smiled, feeling warmed by her concern. I scooted closer and hugged her. “I love you, Marcy.”

She removed her hands from her face and glared at me playfully. “I said, don't call me Marcy. It's Marcel. And I love you too,” she grumbled.

“Right. I understand, Marcy.”

“Arrrgh! I'll get you for that!”

---

The mission plan arrived, detailing my role: infiltrate the Montanari Villa as the caretaker of his young 5-year-old daughter.

I felt a bit skeptical. I had never worked with children before. Would I be able to handle the job?

As it turned out, my worries were unnecessary. The organization had somehow arranged for me to join a care taking agency, where I not only cared for kids but also learned housekeeping skills.

For a month, I toiled like a bull every day, gradually growing accustomed to the intensity.

After completing the month-long training, I was summoned by Vito.

Feeling anxious, I made my way to his office. After all, this was no ordinary mission.

Upon entering, I found Vito seated with another man.

He greeted me with a gentle smile. “Take a seat, dear.”

Nervously, I complied.

“Well, you've received the necessary training and your mission directives,” Vito began solemnly. “The Montanari Villa is not a place to be taken lightly. You must never let your guard slip up. I believe you understand this.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Next week, you'll be sent to the Villa by the care taking agency. Your goal is to win over the young princess so you can gain employment. This will make it easier for you to gather information.”

I nodded again, already familiar with the mission directive. Nothing could go wrong. Failure was not an option.

“That's all, I guess. You can leave now. Take care of yourself, dear. Once you accomplish this mission, you'll be relieved of your debt and finally be free.”

As I left his office, Vito's words echoed in my mind. Accomplishing this mission meant freedom.

It felt like such a strange concept, yet it was something I had always longed for.

Lost in thought, I walked out of the building, my mission directive running through my mind: Infiltrate the Villa, gain the trust of the young princess and her father, and steal information.

Simple enough, right? But the idea of entering the Montanari Villa as a spy filled me with dread.

Lost in my thoughts, I collided with someone, sending my keys clattering to the ground.

“I'm so sorry,” I apologized, looking up.

It was the man from Vito's office. He glanced at me and walked away without a word.

Rude, I thought, picking up my keys. As I did, I noticed a distinctive white gold ring on the floor.

It must have belonged to the man. I raised my head intending to call out to him, but he had disappeared.

I frowned slightly as I look at the ring. Strange.