Mafia's Web of Deceit

There was just a little bit of light inside the diner, and the light was out so shadows danced across the torn faux-leather seats. Eva DeLuca steadied herself on the arms of her chair while her fingers tightly gripped an empty cup, which had been holding coffee long ago. Beside her Mr. Kane, the detective, sat hunched, his attention flipping from her and the window, a heavy air around him like a suffocating shroud.

"You've read the file," stated Marcus, putting a sealed envelope in front of James. His voice was low but urgent. "What's your answer?"

Eva stared at the envelope. It was clean, unsullied, and sinister, as if her world could change once she cracked it open. Her reflection was no longer soaking in the steam on the coffee surface as it was earlier. She never read the file, for as far as the task was concerned, had she? She'd skimmed it. Just know that it was a bad idea.

"You want me to become one of the Romano family," Eva replied with a cold tone. But here when they say, 'You join our team,' that is not a job offer; that is a death wish.

"Oh no," Marcus whispered, interrupting me, "Not the family." "Just Adrian. He's the key to everything."

Frowning slightly, Eva chuckled instead of answering. Her index fingers beat on the table. "Adrian Romano," she said again. "The ghost of the underworld. You finally come to the realization that people don't even know what he truly looks like anyway. They said, 'But how are you going to get close to him?'

Marcus patted at his pocket and pulled out a crumpled photograph. He put it in front of her, making his actions look languid. Finally, Eva felt apprehensive touching the item; she took it. From the image, I could barely make out the figure, but it did not matter because there was only one man who bore that kind of scar: Adrian Romano at a table that was tucked in an apparent executive's club, and only half his face was illuminated. Despite the poor quality, his presence was palpable: thin, elongated face, deep-set eyes, and an erect bearing that said, 'I am royalty.'.

Look, this is your in, Marcus said, pointing at the photo. "He's been having... issues. Psychological ones. His people have been on the lookout for an unobtrusive talent, a good talent. That's why you perfectly cohort with this profile."

Eva put down the photo, her eyes narrowing. 'And what exactly do you have me do? More importantly, be the play therapist to a man who probably orders hits before breakfast.

Recalling the previous conversation, Marcus said, "We don't just want you to play therapist." Well, in this case she instructed, "We want you to get inside his head." Learn what secret he possesses that makes him immune to such things and has been so up to now. He's slipping, Eva. You can use that."

She looked at him and then shook her head before leaning back in the seat. "This is insane. You're precisely expecting me to march into the lion's den carrying a notepad and a degree in psychology alone."

Marcus had a sneer, but there was no joy in it. "You've done worse."

Eva's eyes narrowed. "Don't bring that up."

I'm not trying to, Marcus said and immediately put his hands up in surrender, looking slightly offended. What I'm telling you is that you have dealt with danger before. You've gotten out of it. And this... this is different. You're not walking in blind. You'll have me, the team, and all the work we've done in the last few years. You'll have what you need.

Except a guarantee I'll survive, she mumbled, which had her staring at the envelope once more.

They look at each other, not speaking a word; only the sounds of more dishes being washed up in the kitchen and other guests' conversations filled the air. Eva thought for a moment, trying to cover the potential threats versus the potential benefits. The Romano family had the blood of so many people on their hands, including her father's. This could be the opportunity that she would have been waiting for to make them regret.

And lastly, she took the envelope with both her hands, albeit the shaking hands. If you agree to going out with me, I get to ask, What is the time frame?

Marcus sat up in bed, realizing the opportunities he had been given and the state clear across his face. 'By next week's meeting, you'll be presented to his people.' Son of a gun, we've hired you a cover-the best top-tier psychologist who has never worked with anybody less than a celebrity. They will investigate it; however, we have cross-checked everything."

'And if they find something that doesn't?'

They won't, Marcus said. And that was your answer to my question: We've thought of everything.

Eva snorted. Famous last words.

She then walked away, putting the envelope in her purse. Fine. I'll do it. But if this goes south, you are going to be to blame.

Marcus nodded. Fair enough. It is... just don't relax in his world too much, Eva. The fact is that it is very easy to disappear in the darkness.

His words only stayed with her until she exited the diner to the freezing night. The city buzzed around her: the sound of cars in the distance, the thin sound of a police car in the distance, the quiet sound of people returning home. But she adjusted that coat around her, and the envelope was a burden in her bag.

When she got to the corner of the building, she felt the vibration of her mobile phone. She scooped it out, though inadvertently squinting at the number that was unknown to her. A message flashed on the screen:

*You must be planning this... Turn back."

Eva froze. She tilted her head a little towards the street, and her breath slightly hitched as she looked around. It was quiet, too quiet. Quiet that brought the hairs up on the back of her neck.

She pulled the phone out of his ear and stuffed it back into her pocket and began to walk. It is this point that beats her chest as her mind fills with adrenaline and a touch of fear. Did Marcus have to underpredict the Romanos' monitoring?

The distance between their house and her apartment was a few blocks; however, for him, every block seemed to take him an eternity. She looked behind her; she thought someone would be following her. It was dark along the roads, and the lamplights loomed ahead as, for a second, she believed she could spy a figure standing close to the store.

By the time she reached her building, she was brought down by hands that continually shook. She jiggled her keys for a while before being admitted into the house: "Get in.'' The scent of old wood and the barely noticeable smell of lavender, which she knew so well, did nothing to soothe her.

She closed the door after her and was ensured by turning the key in the lock. Grabbing onto it, she was able to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

>*It was all said in a very serious and official manner, accompanied by: "This is your only warning."

Sitting finger on the mouse button, Eva was convinced that the result was going to be positive. In her living room, the light went on blinking, and a shadow passed through the window. Someone was watching her.