This day rather felt more exhausting than necessary.
The moment I arrived back at my apartment, I lay down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. If my phone didn't ring incessantly right before I could begin speculating about the stranger, I would have ignored it completely.
"Did you drink again?"
Wizardo's accusatory tone had me rolling my eyes. I should be mad at him for what he had done earlier.
But I would like to be the bigger person and let the issue go.
"Nope," I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose.
I couldn't tell him what really happened, or he would go on a thirty-minute lecture about how wrong the interference was.
But did I have any regrets?
The question triggered Jace's face to pop into my mind.
I might regret it if my identity gets exposed. Otherwise, I think even Seven would agree that it was the right call.
How could I ignore a helpless old man?
"Stop doing anything reckless, Amiel. You know it's highly dangerous for you to get caught. Unless you already forgot what Seven had to pay for."
Bringing Seven into our discussion made me snap. I no longer feel so guilty about what happened. Instead, Wizardo was driving me mad.
He was pushing my buttons today.
"You know nothing about how I feel towards that matter, Wizardo. Don't you dare accuse me of not caring about Seven."
I breathed in and breathed out, my chest heaving up and down and my pulse thumping firmly against my skin.
"I'm sorry."
I listened to Wizardo while he held his breath, saying nothing. The ceiling somehow looked so appealing to stare at.
I wanted to be mad and hung up. However, that sounded so immature.
"Let's drop the subject. Hit me with what you got."
Wizardo cleared his throat.
"You might hate this one. But I promise you. It would be worth going for the man."
"Color me intrigued."
The sound of shuffling told me that Wizardo must have printed some papers. Most likely documents that would be needed for my disguise.
Aside from the technical matters, he was also in charge of creating fake resumes, application letters, and whatsoever.
"Alejandro Tyler," Wizardo stated. "Ring any bells?"
I pursed my lips.
"I knew it," I murmured. A picture of a guy in front of Today's magazine came to mind.
Alejandro was one of the youngest entrepreneurs recognized by society because of his 'charitable' deeds.
I had been a little suspicious by the goody-two-shoes act. He was handsome, single, and made more than one could count in his fingers.
He could surpass any billionaires present in the city.
This information only confirmed my suspicion of him a long time ago. The first news about his 'charitable' kindness was aired a year ago.
From then on, he continued to surprise me with the countless orphanages and schools he had donated big amounts of money to.
I wasn't questioning his reason for throwing away that much to these institutions. But I was more concerned about where the large sum came from.
Even with all the inheritance I received from my parents, combining all properties they left, I couldn't make yearly donations to several hospitals.
Hence, when everything became mine legally, I sold them off and deposited them in one go.
I could give yearly help to the institutions I had chosen. But all I could manage were two hospitals.
Beyond that, I would be broke.
And I don't even have an expensive lifestyle at that.
"Send me the rest of the details. I'll skim through the essential ones. However, I have one question."
"Let's hear it."
I took the time to look at the ceiling and wondered if this was worth asking. I usually never ask this as I launch on researching the target before agreeing.
But somehow, for this one, I wanted a little information before proceeding.
"Who ordered the killing?"
Wizardo didn't give me an immediate response. I would have berated him for it. However, I was too tired to pick a fight with him tonight.
Physically, emotionally, and mentally.
Tomorrow, I promise to learn more about Alejandro before signing the deal. There was no promise unless Alejandro proved to be a real threat to society.
I actually set that as a standard at one point.
How dangerous were the targets to everyone else?
Not that it would save them from being killed, but I wanted to understand the depth of the anger for such a request.
Despite finding satisfaction after each kill, I was never proud of what I had done.
I no longer expected salvation after this life. I'd be damned to hell.
But at least I'm making it worthwhile.
My mother would probably disagree with me. However, she couldn't be mad at my choices. It was how I coped with the pain of loosing them.
Of course, I would never recommend anyone to do the same. Who in their right mind would do that?
I just knew that if I didn't satisfy the thirst for vengeance burning and hidden inside me, I would never be at peace.
It was how Seven easily convinced me to accept this deal.
He needed an assassin.
I needed to hone my skills.
It was a win-win.
Biting on my lower lip, I tapped my fingers at the back of my phone. Wizardo has yet to answer my question. My patience was growing thin.
"A fling,"
I got up from my lying position on the couch.
"What?"
The answer surprised me to the point that I couldn't fully grasp the idea of it.
Wizardo cleared his throat again.
"You heard me right the first time. Don't play dumb."
I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose before running a hand through my hair.
"I don't understand why a mere fling would want to do something like this. Did he threaten her? Provoked?"
Wizardo cleared his throat for the third time, sounding uncomfortable.
"The thing is," he took a deep breath before sighing. "It isn't a woman."