Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Assassin's Creed. I do, however, own Valeria Bianchi and her family.

The dark streets of Venice were silently eerie. A part from a scattering of beggars the place was vacant. The air smelled moist and salty from the massive, deep, and watery channels that surrounded the city. A single gondola navigated the water tonight, its lamp extinguished, the driver a heavily armed mysterious hooded figure. As the gondola neared the stone streets the man leaped from the bow and landed softly on the cobbles, his blood red cape and white tunic rustling in the mild wind. His figure ominous and stately, a white hood drawn over his head to conceal his face. The white tunic he wore was ornately embellished with red and silver accents and off one shoulder draped a red cape with the crest of Venice embroidered on the center. A red sash across his waist was adorned with several belts that holstered blades of varying sizes. His boots, leggings, and gauntlets were all the chocolate color of leather. Tall, lean and muscular this man was built for both speed and strength.

He walked along the street silently, his cape flitting behind him. He stopped suddenly in front of a wealthy Venetian villa. The windows dark, all who were within lay asleep not knowing what was about to conspire. The man scaled the front wall of the villa effortlessly, using protruding bricks and window ledges to do so. He pushed lightly on a windowpane about three stories up, it swung open immediately and he climbed in quietly. The room he now stood in was large and ornate, fitting for an upper class merchant. In the center of the room was a large canopy bed with white linens, in the bed slept a man of medium build who looked to be in his fifties. He lay on his back, snoring lightly, with a leather ledger sitting open on his stomach. The man asleep matched the description that the man dressed in white and red was given. He walked swiftly towards the bed and a thin dagger slid from his right hand gauntlet as he approached the sleeping man.

His moves were quick and thorough. The sleeping man wasn't even awake before he was dead. The assassin laid the man's head back down onto the pillow gently as the blood poured the wound in his neck and onto the killer's hand. Sweeping his fingers over the man's eyes to shut them, the assassin left the room as quietly as he had entered it leaving the leather ledger lying on the cold wooden floor.

††††††

Valeria awoke suddenly, the nightmare she had been seeing vanishing in a haze before her startled chocolate eyes. Her breathing was heavy and irregular and her body soaked in sweat and shivering. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and wiped the moisture from it and pushed back her long wavy dark brown hair from her face. It had been a year and a half since she had found the body of her father, Arturo Bianchi, covered in blood in his room. She had gone to check on him that night because she knew that he would be up late studying his ledger for the upcoming gathering of merchants in Florence. It had just been her, Arturo and her chambermaids in the villa that week. Arturo had sent her brother Ciro ahead of him to Florence with the family guards and butler. The murderer had chosen the best time to attack.

She arose from her bed; her body still quivering in fright from her dream that made her relive her fathers death. She snatched the candle from her beside table and her father's old leather ledger from inside a drawer in the table, placed the ledger in the pocket of her night gown, and crossed the room to the door quickly. She stepped out into the hall and made her way to her father's room, she always slept better there. Her stomach knotted and squirmed as she opened the door. The door creaked from under use and the floorboards felt especially cold under her feet than the rest of the house. She took several steps into the room before she saw him lurking in the corner by the window. Gasping, she let the candle fall from her hand to the floor with a crash. The noise it made echoed throughout the room. The figure stood and walked towards her silently, when she made like she was going to scream for the guards he jumped at her and brought her to the ground. His hand pressed against her mouth tightly, his left arm cradling her neck.

"Don't make a sound." The man whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "The man that died here about a year ago, he kept a ledger. Where is it?"

She shook her head violently, and thrashed her arms trying to loosen his grip on her. His arms remained solidly wrapped around her and his hand clamped to her mouth. She had closed her eyes when he jumped at her, and now she opened them slowly to see her captor. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she began to make out his outline. The white hood he had over his head covered the upper half of his face but she could make out his lips and nose clear enough. His lips were stoic and handsome, neither frowning nor smiling at her. She looked at his waist and saw numerous blades and pouches attached to several belts.

"It must still be here, and if you are who I believe you are, you know where it is."

She squeezed her eyes shut again and tried to speak through his hand. But all she could manage through his grip was "Mhmmhm!"

"I'm not going to hurt you. I am going to let you speak, but speak loudly and there will be consequences." He let his hand slowly down from her mouth and loosened his grip on her torso.

Her breath was ragged and angry, she glared at him with all her might as she pushed herself away from him. "Who are you?" she hissed vehemently.

"That is none of your concern, and knowing so will bring you death."

"Why do you want my fathers ledger?"

"Again, none of your concern." He was growing impatient. "I'll ask again. Where is the ledger?"

She was silent. Then realization came over her. "It was you who murdered my father."

"It would do you well to worry about your own fate at this moment instead of his."

"I'd sooner die than tell you where his ledger is."

"Do you even know what is contained within it?"

"No."

"Then you are in no position to keep it from me if you are ignorant."

She stared at him venomously, not speaking again. Anger welled up in her chest and throat, anger from finally coming face to face with the man that had caused her so much grief and depression. She knew her father to be a good and fair man. She could not comprehend why some one would be sent to kill him.

The assassin sighed with impatience. He grabbed her by the collar of her nightgown and pinned her roughly against the nearest wall. Pulling both of her arms above her head he immobilized them by holding her wrists there in one hand while he searched her. Patting her nightgown quickly and thoroughly he came across the pocket where she had placed the ledger earlier. He slipped the leather book from her clothes.

"Now, was that so hard?" He questioned, almost smiling at her.

Her eyes grew fiery and anger welled up inside her. She didn't care if he killed her or not as long as he went down with her. "CIRO, GUARDS, HELP!" she screamed with all her might. She flailed her limbs everywhere hoping to strike or trip him. He grunted roughly, but held her where she was still, not falling under her actions.

"You really had to make this difficult didn't you?" His said to her, his voice filled with annoyance. He sighed, then slipped the ledger into his garments, shoved her towards the door, sprinted to the window he came in by, and swung up to the roof of the house.

After she regained her balance she ran to the window and looked around wildly. As she heard the guards and her brother running up the hall towards her she spoke out into the darkness to the assassin and thief.

"I will never stop hunting you, as long as I live, until you are punished for what you have done to me."