Page 137 of The Darkest Hour

“That damn song stayed with me weeks later. It echoed in my head, haunting me in a way no other kill ever had. I ended up researching the song, the opera, everything about it. It was a rabbit hole of craziness.”

“Sometimes an assassin needs the rabbit hole to stay sane.”

“Perhaps because. . .a few months later, I found myself on a plane to Italy, to see that very opera live.”

Amusement hit his voice. “Really?”

“Really. I even wore a beautiful gown.”

“Now you have to tell me about the gown.”

“Midnight blue, floor-length, with a neckline that draped elegantly over my shoulders. The fabric was soft, almost like liquid against my skin, and it shimmered under the lights of the opera house.”

A low groan left Havoc. “Damn. I wish I’d seen you at that opera.”

“Me too.” I smiled. “I felt like I was stepping into another world, leaving everything behind.”

“And the opera?”

“It was my first one,” I admitted. “I thought it was okay, but when they reached ‘Nessun dorma’ in the final act, I got sad.”

“Why?”

“The singer. . .he was good, but he wasn’t as good as the one I’d killed and. . .for the rest of the month, I couldn't stop thinking about how I had taken true talent from the world. The kind of talent that only comes once in a lifetime.”

Havoc went quiet.

I could see the gears turning in his head, wrestling with the information I'd shared. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence. “Did you feel guilty?”

“I did.”

“You hadn’t felt guilty before?”

“I hadn’t, and. . .it made killing after that even harder, but. . .I killed anyway.”

Havoc nodded. “You pushed through the guilt to get the job done?”

“I did.”

“Not the best way to live.”

“Not at all.” I swallowed that sadness down and turned to him. “So. . .”

“Yes.”

“What was your most life-changing kill?”

Cigars and Whiskey

Onyx

Havoc considered my question and then slowly exhaled as if the memory needed time to resurface. “It was a plastic surgeon.”

“That’s an interesting job. Why did you have to kill him?”

“The surgeon had reshaped the face of a gangster who was on the run from six different countries, and the gangster wanted to clean up loose ends, and I was the one to tie it all up.”

“Sounds straightforward.”

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