I slept for most of the plane ride back from Dublin to London. I was absolutely exhausted; killing people was hard work, because they never really want to be killed, and they fight back, or run away, or try and kill you back. On this occasion, there was only a bit of running, as the man I was told to kill was rather plump, so was soon out of breath. I, however, have run the London marathon seven times, each time beating my personal record, and run a 5k every morning, and that's not even half of the exercise we all have to do in order to keep fit so we can do our jobs properly.

When I finally got back to my apartment, I packed my gun away into its box and put the kettle on. That was my special gun, for when I went out on jobs, but I had many others dotted all around the place; in my field of work, we anger a lot of people, so it is just about protection. Don't even ask me how I got the gun on the plane, I have my ways.

As I sat down and drank my tea, there was a knock at the door. I looked through the peep hole, and saw it was Nadia, but I was so confused as to why she was here. She pretty much runs the company. Everyone who works within it is a private assassin, but we all get our jobs through the company, and in return they take a cut of the money. As she is rich beyond belief, she always gets other people to do her work for her, and she certainly does not turn up the apartments of her employees. Nadia had jet black hair, cut into a long bob, and it was always silky and smooth, never with a hair out of place. She had evil eyes, that saw right into your soul, and for anyone else, made them confess to things they never did. I was used to her eyes by now, as we had grown up together. The company used to be the two of us, and we were both assassins, but as it grew, she happily took on the managerial role whilst I stayed in the field. Why? She loved the money and the power, whereas I liked the travel that came along with the job, as well as the thrill.

"Hello Savannah," she said, very formally, as she walked into my living room. My apartment was rather modest. It had my bedroom and a spare, two bathrooms, and a huge open-plan kitchen, dining and living space. Although I could buy a place twenty times the size, I didn't see the point; I was barely in my apartment, usually on a job anyway, and I didn't need all the space, I liked the comfort of my little apartment, and I just made sure to decorate it nicely, and buy myself nice things instead. Nadia, however, loved to show off her wealth and power, she adored attention from others, and their awe when they stepped into her stunning London penthouse. Although I bought myself nice things, again, I never was excessive, I just bought what I needed or liked and didn't check the price tag, that was a liberty I allowed myself. Nadia, however, much like her home, loved showing her wealth in what she wore, and would never leave the house in an outfit she wouldn't meet the Queen in.

"Hi Nadia, kettle has just boiled, want a drink?" I asked.

"Coffee, no milk." She strolled over to the living area of my apartment, which consisted of two plump blue sofas, covered in colourful pillows, and she sat on the edge of one of them. That is another thing about Nadia, I never saw her relax, she never slouched or sat back on a chair, she always had perfect posture. I brought her coffee to her, and sat opposite, drinking my tea.

"So, were you in the area?" I asked.

"No," she hesitated, thinking about how she wanted to say the next words, "I have a job for you." I didn't understand why she hesitated on those words, I expected another job pretty soon, I mean, it was my career.

"It is a hard one," she added.

"You've got my attention."

"Someone has called for the death of a high-ranking family member in one of the Italian Mafias," damn, mafia assassinations usually happen between families, they never outsource to private, contract killers.

"Why can they not deal with it themselves?"

"Due to our confidentiality agreement with all of our clients, I'm not supposed to tell you who has ordered the death, and you know this, but I decided on the way here that I should; it is too dangerous a job to not tell you all of the details." She told me about exactly who ordered the killing, it was someone in one of the Polish crime families, who didn't want the murder to be traced back to them, which is usually the reason people outsource to us.

"This man is always surrounded by other members of his mafia family, you would never be able to go into his house and kill him, well... I would trust you to do it, but I don't want to risk it. No, there is a ball. It is a masquerade ball, so you will be able to cover your face. It will be swarming with members of all of the different families that form together to make the Italian crime syndicate – but there is a lot of tension between this man and some of them all at the moment. Your job is to get him alone. He is a huge womanizer, so you will need to look sexy, flirt with him, go somewhere alone, and finish the job. Get out of there as quick as possible."

"Where is the ball?"

"Rome."

"When?"

"Saturday, three days from now. Your flight is booked for Friday, your hotel is booked for only Friday night, as you will need to buy a getaway car and get out of Rome as soon as the killing is finished. I will give you all the necessary documents, but you will drive to a certain bridge, and under it will be a man waiting for you, you will get in his boot and he will drive you to a city an hour outside of Rome, where I will have a car waiting for you, you will swap cars, and this will happen at least 4 times as you drive up Italy. If necessary, we will put you into a protection programme, but it shouldn't be necessary."