FOUR (Odessa POV)

"I'm late! I'm late!" I repeat quietly like the White Rabbit in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland while running down Manhattan Avenue heading to the tattoo studio and my bag hits my thigh with every stride. "Sweet Sue is going to get really furious if I'm even just two minutes late..." My tattoo artist can have a very bad temper if she wants but fortunately I'm very close now and I think I'll manage to arrive in time. It's a hot day here in Brooklyn and my forehead is coated with a thin layer of sweat because I'm almost running: sun blinds me for a second when I turn a corner and bump into someone accidentally, it's a warm and firm body covered with a soft jacket , and a pair of strong hands holds me against the chest to stop me from falling on the pavement. "I'm so sorry, this is my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going..." I try to step back in order to pull away from the stranger but I'm unable to move far when I feel a prick on my neck. My brain reacts immediately remembering my training in martial arts but I've barely moved an arm when everything goes black.

I open my eyes but everything is blurry around me for a moment: the bright light coming from two windows is annoying me, my head is spinning and I feel disoriented... I need a couple of minutes to realize that something weird is going on here. My muscles get tensed immediately but it's useless, there's nowhere for me to go since I'm tied up to a black chair firmly and with my hands on my back: no matter how hard I'm twisting, I can't release myself. The legs of the chair slip on the light coloured hardwood floor with an irritating squeak and the sound of someone clearing his throat forces me to look up... Oh fuck!

I'm in a medium-sized apartment with a rectangular living room, three walls are white but all the furniture is black: table, couch, armchairs, shelves, chairs... even the TV and the stools in front of the breakfast bar... however, everything contrasts wonderfully with a massive brick wall, obviously very old, that also keeps the fireplace. The final effect of this living room decoration is really dramatic due to the striking contrast between modern and old with an industrial air. On the contrary, the small kitchen at the back of the room shows grey wood cabinets and state-of-the-art appliances in steel where a big fridge stands out. Two doors on one side lead to what it looks like a bedroom and a small bathroom.

But none of that matters and I barely waste my time taking a quick look needed to check my surroundings: I realize that escaping won't be easy... above all because of the person who's casually sitting on the couch in front of me, wearing dark pants and a white shirt leaving the collar open, holding a gun in her hand and staring at me tilting her head slightly to one side. If it weren't for the fact that I'm failing to see the humour in this fucked situation, I'd spend my time looking at her flawless beauty... even if her scars are visible: she looks like a model posing for an interior design magazine. She clears her throat again and I blink, trying to force my brain to work properly again so I can find a way to get out of here.

"Ares..." I whisper her name not knowing what else I should say although I'm not hiding that I know her... every member of the underworld has heard about the woman who survived after a fight against John Wick and was able to kick his ass at least during some minutes: she's become a legend. "Good morning..." I smile shyly while moving my shoulders a little, I can bear it for now but it's pretty clear that this position will get really uncomfortable in some minutes so I hope we can have this over as quickly as possible. "What am I doing here?" I decide to go straight to the point. My hostess leans forward in order to take a notebook and a black pen, she writes for a while focused on her task but never lets her gun go and I can't help smirking smugly because it seems to me that, despite being one of the best assassins of the world, she's not quite sure about my skills to fight and thinks that she needs a gun to keep me under control.

You should be more careful and not tell the Continental valet where your tattoo studio is.

I blink after reading the text and nod firmly, the truth is that I wasn't speaking to him, but I guess they boy heard me and probably told everything to Ares in exchange of a generous tip. My hostess writes again diligently and I can't help frowning a little, the fact that she can't talk it's a nuisance and I'm sorry for her despite she seems to manage pretty well and has gained notoriety in the Company, she has the respect of D'Antonio family members and it's pretty clear she's very good at her job... but I'd love to hear the voice of a pretty girl like her anyway. Because if you ignore her serious facial expression and her "I'm a tough killer" attitude, Ares is an extremely beautiful woman and her voice, if she has been able to speak before, must be really sweet... or at least this is how I imagine it but I'm a hopeless romantic to be honest.

You've been chasing me around trying to get my attention... all right, you got it now... what the hell you want from me?

I take a deep breath and avert my eyes to the brick wall pondering what I should answer to that question. I'm not worried about what she might do to me since the Russian mob has my back and Ares wouldn't want to have that powerful people against her, that's why I know she won't hurt me, but I'm not sure about telling her the truth... not yet. I still don't trust her. I try to buy some time while thinking of a solution to such a dilemma staring at her with a sultry smile on my face, my eyes travel all over her body from head to toe stopping at her plump lips like a did yesterday at the Continental. My hostess raises an eyebrow inquisitively and then nods like she agrees with me somehow. She places the gun on the coffee table with great care, making sure that the barrel aims at me, and gets up from the couch... my muscles get tensed when I realize she's unbuttoning her cuffs... maybe she's going to hurt me after all: I'm a hard-ass and I've been training for this but I don't feel like having my ribs broken against her fists right now.

"Wow!" A gasp falls from my lips when I spot Ares unbuttoning the front of her shirt and letting it slip down her arms till it lands on the floor. First thing that catches my eye are her tattoos due to the bright colours, everybody in the underworld knows that her hands are covered in ink but it's amazing that she was able to hide such beautiful and intricate designs under her clothes... this isn't what you expect from an assassin who must keep a low profile and go unnoticed. I guess we have something in common after all: she likes colourful tattoos, I like colourful hair. Second thing that grabs my attention is her pale skin, flawless except for the knife scar on her breast where Wick stabbed her, covering toned muscles and a sis-pack that looks better than mine... damn! My jaw drops when she takes her sports bra off and her beautiful breasts are exposed for me to see them in all their glory, delicious rosy nipples harden when the cool breeze coming from the window grazes them and my mouth gets dry all of a sudden. Fuck! What she thinks she's doing?

Ares takes the gun again and gets closer, her perfect breasts are shaking in front of my shocked face for a second before she sits down on my lap straddling my legs, her body heat seeps through my clothes and her heady perfume melts my brain turning it into rice pudding. She unbuttons my dark blue shirt with her free hand and uses the barrel of her gun to move the fabric away in order to take a look at my black lace bra. She stares at my breasts while sliding the cold and polished metal along the edge of the garment, a shiver runs down my spine and my nipples harden... Ares licks her lips and I bite mines so I can hold back a moan. The assassin gets even closer and her breath fans my hot skin, her own soft skin rubs against my abdomen when she starts moving her hips tortuously slowly, grinding against my body while she tilts her head and the tip of her tongue traces a line along my neck from my collarbone to my earlobe before biting it gently. A pant leaves my throat.

"All right, all right... I'll tell you everything..." I whisper out of breath in order to stop her before making a fool of myself reaching the ecstasy with a simple lap dance... My problem is that Ares is the most sensual dancer I've ever had sitting on my knees, so beautiful and so lethal at the same time, and I've never been so horny so fast before. I close my eyes because I don't want to see her breasts shaking in front of my face while she pulls away and puts her shirt on again although my body misses her heat immediately. I open them when I hear her flopping down on the couch and I realize that her gaze is still fixed on my chest while she bites her lower lip, she looks up at my face finally and raises an eyebrow waiting for my explanations. I clear my throat... "I'm here for the necklace."

Ares' blank stare shows me clearly that she has no idea what I'm talking about... shit, she knows nothing about the jewel... or she's an excellent actress once again... I decide to tell her everything since it seems to be the only way out of this apartment.

"Santino D'Antonio was negotiating with my... with me the sale of an emerald and diamond necklace, an antique that belonged to my family... it has tremendous sentimental value... Obviously, negotiations were suspended after his death but the new head of the family has never contacted us... contacted me in order to close the deal and I thought that maybe you know where the jewel is since you were his right-hand woman, and we could pick up where your boss left off. Money isn't a problem and I can be really generous." I'm totally aware that I'm letting her know how desperate I am and this is a bad idea because now she knows that I want that necklace at any price, she'll probably ask for a stratospheric amount of money if she has it after all, but I don't care at this stage... I just want it to be over and besides, my shoulders are killing me. Ares leans forward in order to take the notebook and pen again.

What if I don't want to sell the necklace? Assuming that I have it...

"Why would a mute assassin want to do with a handful of emeralds if not selling them?" I ask frowning and completely confused, her questions seems pretty ridiculous to me.

"Oh no, I'm not... mute, I mean..."

"......................."

"Odessa?" Her voice echoes against the living room walls and sounds exactly how I imagined it: a sweet whisper that's deep at the same time, with a soft Italian accent that sends a shiver down my spine and makes my lower belly clench. 'This woman is a fucking danger...' I think while staring at her with my mouth wide open, blinking since it's the only thing my shocked brain is able to do right now. I've become stupid all of a sudden or she's hypnotized me with her voice... or both things at the same time.

"You speak?"

"You're hearing me, don't you?" she answers amused, obviously delighted with the surprise she's given me. "Odessa, breathe..." Unfortunately, my name falling from my lips has the opposite effect and paralyzes my lungs till I'm almost suffocating. I'm able to take a deep breath finally when I start feeling dizzy.

"I'm sorry... I always thought that you were... all the members of the Company I talked to informed me that you were mute..."

"Nobody knows... well, Santino knew it but it took him years to find out." She purses her lips, lost in her thoughts for a second before looking back at me.

"But... I don't understand why?" The gears in my brain keep trying to recover from the surprise and they aren't working properly, it's pretty obvious. Ares sighs and fixes her eyes on my bare chest again but I don't think she's looking at my lace bra this time, actually she seems to be weighting something in her head and finally taking a decision.

"I grew up in a poor neighbourhood in the centre of Naples, it's a beautiful city and genuinely Italian since it retains the essence of the Campania despite being overcrowded... Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Normans, French and Spanish people have left an indelible mark in the city and people's character. Naples is very special: you either love it or hate it but leaves none of its visitors feeling indifferent." A shy smile spreads across the assassin's face when she remembers her hometown, she misses it clearly. "Un fortunately, street crime has always been a problem there and nowadays is the place in the world where more wallets are being stolen from tourists... I was barely a child when I started earning extra money swindling and stealing bags and suitcases. My dad spent most of his life drunk and jobless and my mom left him but didn't take me with her so... I had to find a way of making a living...

"I'm sorry..." I whisper sadly. Well, my dad is a famous weapons dealer and mum was a professional killer almost as good as Ares before she died in a car accident some years ago, I guess nobody could say that they're 'role models and honest citizens' but they loved me and my childhood was happy... out of the ordinary, but happy. I'm really lucky.

"Thank you," my hostess snorts amused. "It happened long time ago... The point is that while living in Naples as a petty criminal you'll bump into the Camorra sooner or later. One day some guys threatened to beat me up and I got pretty scared, they looked like big shots to me although now I know that they were the lowest rank of the criminal organization, but I thought they'd be able to break some bones of my body, to be honest. And I just got paralyzed, I was so scared that words stuck in my throat. One of them asked if I was mute while the others laughed considering it a funny joke and I just nodded, I don't know why I did it... But it worked because that information surprised them, they looked at each other not knowing what to do: it was like suddenly, they felt it was bad to punch a poor mute 11 year-old girl... and they took me under their wing. I moved up in the organization step by step and ended up joining D'Antonio family, my bosses thought I was mute during all that time and I kept up the charade because I benefited from it and still do: they trust me, for some strange reason they believe that, being mute, I won't rat them out to the police although it's stupid since I'm perfectly able to write a statement... but in their minds, my inability to speak makes me look reliable... I've learnt a lot of things during my life thanks to that... lots of secrets that helped me to reach this point..."

"You're trying to tell me that you pretended to be mute for more than 20 years and nobody noticed it? You never blurted out a word?" Ares shakes her head while looking at me amused. "You managed to remain silent when John Wick sank that knife in your chest?" I ask almost yelling and completely stunned: the memory of that fight makes her frown suddenly.

"Yes, that was really difficult... I may have growled a little." Her voice sounds harsh when answering me and I can only stare at her shocked and... with respect: I knew she was good at her job, also that she's smart and with tons of willpower... but Ares is much more than that... Ares is...

"What's your name?" I whisper and she looks right into my eyes for a few seconds before tilting her head in a shy gesture.

"Lucrezia... but it's been years since the last time someone called me that..."

"All right... Lucky..." She raises an eyebrow when hearing her new pet name but she doesn't seem angry, I think she likes it. "Do you have my great-grandmother necklace?" Silence falls on the room while Ares leans back on the couch and nods slowly.

"Maybe... Yes, the truth is that I have it."