Lorenzo was mixing a drink for a client. It was a Margarita, made of Cointreau, Tequila, lime juice and spit. Yes, spit, the client had been rude to him so there was no need to be nice back. Lorenzo shook the cocktail shaker a few times, then poured in a glass. He swiftly picked it up and placed in front of the woman and went to walk to the other side of his constraining workspace. Lorenzo was very observant and couldnât help but to notice a brown haired woman sitting at the bar, there werenât many people since it was almost time to wrap everything up, but she seemed suspicious. He didnât have much trouble keeping an eye on her between the alcoholic drinks and useless chatter. Although, she did look quite intoxicated, a little too much for his liking. The Italian was used to people being hammered and he was an expert at knowing when someone was faking it or not. The curly haired man was drying his cups while observing the people leave the bar, walking in zigzags and laughing way too loudly. The poor bartender was tired and was counting the minutes for his break to end.Â
There was barely anyone left, it was late and in the middle of the week, so the place wasnât too crowded. As for the beauty he had been keeping an eye on, she was suspiciously texting away on her phone. Due to his past job, he learnt to be wary and discreet. Lorenzo was sure that she wanted more than just a drink from him. As the last client left, patting the bartender in the back for doing a good job, Lorenzo locked the door behind him, as if he was closing down and simply forgot about the woman sitting on the stool. The cream towel slung over his shoulder and his curls tied into a bun, the man turned the lock with a small âclickâ in the awfully quiet room.
It was him. Could it really be him though? Alexandra had no clue. Maybe she was making it up, maybe everything was just a figment of her wild imagination, a subtle sign, warning her that she was now definitely turning crazy, once and for all. You couldnât blame her though, ever since she had arrived to Venice, she had felt like a shark forced to swim in a bowl fish, signing papers and answering phone calls when all she wanted to do was stab her boss with a pencil. She hadnât been trained for that, she was a killing machine and killing machine killed. Unfortunately enough, Alexandra was doing none of that these past few month and she was craving a rush, any type of rush that could bring back those wild feelings sheâd ever get into the business for. It also explained why she had found herself faking intoxication that night, at the farthest bar away from her place where sheâd spotted him. Come to think about it, chances were he probably wasnât who she thought he was but she needed to be sure.Â
Lorenzo Dionacci. The myth. He was the unspoken tale, the name to never be pronounced but known of all around, he was the silently idolized taboo. Rumors had it he was the top of the society back in his days, never had they had seen such an agent until he disappeared from the maps overnight, without a warning or anything, only to never resurface again. To Alexandraâs eyes, he was a traitor more than anything but she would be lying if she said she wasnât the least intrigued by the mystery surrounding him and his last mission. It was known all over NISAZA to always look out for him, bring him alive only to probably end up dead in the worst ways but that wasnât any of her business, she was the best of her cohort for a reason and she wasnât about to mess that up by getting involved with such drama.Â
Yet there she still was as the bar slowly emptied, writing small notes on her phone hoping to dress his profile and maybe look at the match. âH-a-n-d-s-o-ââ she started typing but quickly erased with a slight shake of her head, realizing how useless of an information that was. Handsome he was yes, but if that man truly was Lorenzo Dionacci, she wouldnât have enough time to admire him as his icy cold eyes would probably be the last thing sheâd see before heâd strangle her with the cloth he used to dry glasses.Â
A small click made her snap out of her transe, looking up only to realize that she was the only one left in the bar. Her and him. She hadnât planned to stay there so late, let alone face him by herself but the girl always liked a challenge and maybe this was the rush sheâd been looking for after all. Alexandra didnât even need to turn around, she knew he had just both locked them in and there was no point in playing games anymore. Nonetheless, she wanted to see if he was willing to blow the cover heâd been keeping up for years to see what she was up to and a small smirk made its way up her lips as she realized her tactic had worked, she had managed to make herself look suspicious enough for him to doubt of her true intentions. ââAnother one,ââ she spoke softly, not even bothering facing him. Let the game begin, she thought as she suppressed a sly smirk from her lips.
