Page 16 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
It is my family.
When the blackness of night approaches, I greet it with open arms. Already dressed in my uniform of all black, I’m ready to leave the safe confines of my self-made prison. After slipping two guns into the holsters under my hoodie, I exit my brownstone.
Though I’m jogging down the steps, the streets remain silent, oblivious to my presence. My steps are quick yet light, a byproduct of the way I was trained to move. Like a panther, though I’m certainly more lethal.
In New York, people fear the name Asher Black, but they should really fear mine. Haunting and formidable, my name is but a myth, rarely whispered as anything other than the prelude to a merciless death.
In the vigilant presence of daylight, I am Nicholas “Nick” Andrews. Come nighttime, I am Niccolaio Andretti. But the only ones who call me by that name are either ordering death or greeting death.
Both of which occur at my hand.
Tonight is a night for the former, and it will inevitably lead to the latter.
Usually, I take a car to meet Vincent Romano, but for some reason, we’re meeting at Central Park tonight. As risky as it is, my mind has been craving open air, and this is as good an excuse as any.
Remaining close to the shadows, I slow my pace, savoring each deep breath of warped freedom.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
It’s just air I’m breathing in, but it’s air a few blocks away from my brownstone. And that little bit of distance from my self-made prison is enough to free the piece of my soul that withers in its cell at the sight of the home.
With each breath I take, I relax.
But with each breath I take, another part of me tenses, always wary and always vigilant.
I eye the street, scanning the trees, the homes, the windows, the cars, the license plates, the scents, and the sounds. I take everything in, analyzing my surroundings in an instant, because if I take a moment longer, I may end up dead.
With a hit on my head, I can never be too safe. Take last night for instance. I saw that girl leaving John’s home for the third time in less than a week. Before that, I saw flashes of her in the neighborhood on my security cameras almost half a dozen times since I got back from hiding out in Nowhere.
&nbs
p; Something about her and John just isn’t sitting right with me, and it’s not because I’m attracted to her. That part likely has more to do with not getting laid in a few years than her actual beauty.
Yes, she’s fucking gorgeous…
But so are a million other women.
There’s just something about her that’s instinctively caught my eyes and isn’t letting go, and that has me suspicious. That, combined with the hit, has me paranoid as fuck. I almost want to add another damn layer of security to the system the boys finally finished installing, but that would involve putting up with the annoying hesitant stares they give me when they think I’m not looking and the heavy marijuana-scented cloud that travels behind them in their wake. No fucking thanks.
And above all, I need to find out why she’s roaming around this neighborhood if I want to sleep at night. No fucking way is it for John. I don’t believe that shit. Whatever her reason for being here, I’ll find out. I’ve always been one to trust my instincts, and they’re telling me that she’s hiding something, and for the life of me (literally), I won’t ignore them.
After all, back when I was with the Andretti family, our greatest assassin, Allegra, was a girl. A guy could be ugly as fuck with an even uglier personality, but a few well-placed sultry looks and sweet words from Allegra, and the dumb fucks would actually be convinced that she wanted them.
I’m not a dumb fuck, and sultry looks and sweet words do nothing for me. But damn, John’s girl has my blood pumping. With a seven-figure hit on my head, the lust she has running through my veins is suspicious enough.
Like I said, you can never be too safe.
When I decide that I’m alone on the street, I continue my movement, crossing the street quickly and quietly until my feet connect with the opposite sidewalk. As soon as it can, my dark figure reunites with the shadows, hiding in the depths of its obscurity.
