Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing! No Ezio. No Altair. I own nothing. This is purely for amusement, nothing else!
Story Info
Summary: Life or Death. That's usually what it all comes down to. But not for me. I got some thing else. I got a choice. Now follow me Olivia Steel, as I thrown into a world I never believed true and try to change a shattered future.
Pairings: Eventual! Ezio/OC, Mentions of Ezio/Many, Mentions OC/others.
I want to thank AgoTheTiny, Alex-Kurotani, Aspidon, Bloodrage, Butterscreen, Chester-Grey, Countess Vlad Dracula, DovahkiinSharpe, Dragonaia, Elementi3197, FireRain1999, GlaceNight, Hanane EL Mokkadem, Hawkbelly, Hawklan, Hyuga Nagani, KarstOfProx, Krenaya, Leo's Katanas, Luria, My Ashland, Peter the Otaku, PhantomChajo, Saqin, Scarlet Rosaria, ShinobiTwin05, Soxxy Moxxy Lacks A Lung, The Partner In Cream, Trauerspiel, TurtleFeathers, Union of the snake, UnknownFlux, Xiba, YTaMSPw, Yanderegrl43ver, azunyan3478, bakaprincess85, dragonsire13, irenia, madisongjohnson, miruka67, mrs. leonard mccoy, pretzel-logic, sleepingsnowwhite, sleepyPrincess, the mass halo effect, ramzgurl, Cherries and Bearbees, Trance20666, michellevillalobos12, GreyMemories, Antyto-sama, Master Chief the Champion, anionymm, Rain Nero, Scarlet Silvers, Baleful Gamer, crazyuser, Hugs4Every1, Illusa, Patches9812, Ballad of the Fallen, LeeBikes, ShioriOokami, xXBloodyIllusionXx, EzziBA, UmiNight Angel Neko, yiuyiufung, ShizukaRen-Hime, bibop, Kmanrocks, Shaiya Arai, xanna2011, GreentreeFrog, SurreptitiousFox245, Kira440, MRG101, Alozano14, LoveNivans, yarmantho, GingerPepperNinja, Tyvot, The Name Is Greed, GreenScalesWaggingTails, Puppystomper, Jade Celandine, TheifOfInsanity, Dark-Forest-Clouds, WandererRaen, Terra-Fair, Cursed-Dragon227, Allstars7, IcedFireFrenzy, , Shannyrox101, Akai Uzu, Dark knight4ever, Renrinrin, tung98bill, Scrubletta, tenshi0, MercenaryBunny, snkannie, SaraTheAngelic, AgoTheTiny, CompetitiveFig, Aim1107, PJatO96, RedSkinGirl, Slavaskia, DomJaoII, Skipping on Shadows, amazonefighter, hodhod2011danger, BelleJay, justme2134, CookiewMonstuurrr, EpicShadowNinja, Mythical-Iaf, BeastlyBeauty, IsraAl'Attia-Theron, mullaaamira19, Acrobatic-Sora, Paws-chan65, huntergo123, PotterChick94, SpartanEra, Atala Embers, The Female Assassin, little101, The Curmudgeon, BaileyBadger, Thisreadingotaku, valeries26, unidead, DesInfernorum, MissLizziebeth, Nerdman3000, diaclover269, Unkinked Animal, Miss Tiffany Blews, Tempting Genisis, AvengerGirl95, nafara, SoraMythos9276, IceAurora, Arika-Kuroi, BlueDragonRising, livlifembleming, MillenniumCount, Sky65, TempestStar, Llyhael Aquila, Thelostflower, SeekingLove, tediom, literofka, avaiaal, Rolosumm, Inu-Hanyou2016, Blake Tourdner, Karina Serval, BrawlerOfBeasts, Onesmartcookie78, WrenwithaPen, Roxel813 and tigerfur for the follows all of you are awesome! Dannazione
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Thank you for the reviews, A Little Bit Irritated, Sky65, MRG101, Karina Serval! You guys and gals reviews helped me finish this chapter, thanks.
Guest Reviews:
A Little Bit Irritated: I apologize. That was my bad. Usually, I'll cut the author's notes if the chapter is shorter than usual. That was an oversight on my part that I corrected.
Got to give the Props to: The game, the novel by Oliver Bowden and the game script. It has really helped me keep up with the storyline and stay true to everything and everyone. I know I don't update fast as I used to, but taking breaks from this story seemed to help because when I come back to it, the writing just comes so easy to me. Also "Malice of Fortune" by Michael Ennis was also a big inspiration as well. Hope you all enjoy. :D
WARNING: Nothing explicit, but talk of death and torture that may be uncomfortable for some
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
"Drink the Poison Lightly"
"When you spoke of dancing," Olivia sent a sideways glance at Machiavelli with a pleasant smile fixated stiffly on her face, "this is not what I pictured in my mind."
"Oh?" Machiavelli said, in a low whispered out of the corner of his mouth as he led her down the grand staircase, her arm looped through his. "And what did you picture?"
"Not being dressed up like a doll with my face painted," Olivia breathed out, her fingers clenching tightly around his arm. She did not like this, at all. She preferred her shadows, to slink in the middle of the night undetected and yet here she stood in a brilliant emerald gown with golden trimming. Her hair swept back out of her face, enhancing her sharp cheekbones and her lips painted red. "I feel like I have clay caked onto my face. It feels as though I'm living in a skin that is not my own."
"An necessary evil, I fear, for such fastidious event like this," Machiavelli told her, as they walked across the wide marble floor where an untold amount of people littered floor. Many of draped in audacious clothing and finery, sipping upon goblets of wine as soft music came flutes and viols. "I feel it necessary to warn you that such events as these are not solely for theatrical entertainment or the pleasure of dance. You will find beneath the courtly manners and masked faces brew ruthless political and social intrigue. Hold yourself with grace, speak with elegancy, and don't turn your back first unless you wish to find a blade in it."
"Hmm." The first real smile tugged at Olivia's lips. "And here I thought parties such as these were boring. If I had known that they were so thrilling, I would have started going to them years ago."
Niccole just sighed quietly. "Do not forget that you are here to uncover a murderer, not to pick the unsuspecting pockets of nobles," he told her, his eyebrow arched. His brown eyes swept over the crowd; a cold intelligence gleam in them.
"You say that as if I can do both," Olivia harrumphed.
"Dio, abbi pietà di mi," he muttered beneath his breath. "You are just as bad as he is."
Olivia's head snapped towards him, away from the extravagant paintings that hung upon the walls. "He? Do not tell me that you just compared me to a certain fox, or a I can guarantee if there shall be any dancing tonight, I will break all of your toes," she threatened, her red lips pulled back into a light snarl. If she hadn't been watching with an eagle's gaze then she would have missed the slight wince that crossed Machiavelli's face.
"I would never, Madonna," he said, in a tone that was just shy of patronizingly.
Olivia did not believe him.
After Ezio replaced his original hemlock distillation with herbane, on the advice of the Monteriggioni's doctor, for he had decided he would use the poison-blade for discretion, since there was always the risk of delivering himself a fatal dose. For this reason, and because his fingers were covered with small scars, he now wore supple but heavy leather gloves when using either blade. The abbey was located near Monticiano, who ancient castle cast a great brooding shadow over the little hill town below.
It was set in the sunlit hollow of a gentle slope, packed with cypress trees as far as the eye could see. Ezio secured the reigns of his horse around a low limb, and stared up through the thicket at the new building, perhaps only one hundred years old, built of expensive imported yellow sandstone. The vast courtyard with a church at its centre, and that is where is target would be. He made his way through fields and orchards which had been cleared around the building. The wine of the monastery attached to the abbey was famous, and was exported even as far as Paris.
He had draped a monks attire over his assassins cloak, and was thankful that the sun was hidden behind clouds of grey. Soon after his arrival, he spotted Stefano, deep in conversation with the abbey's hospitarius, a corpulent monk who looked as if he had taken on the shape of one of the wine barrels he so evidently frequently emptied. Ezio maneuvered himself close enough to listen without being noticed, with the help of the gathering crowd.
"Let us pray, brother," said the monk.
"Pray?" said Stefano, whose black garb contrasted with all the sunny colors around him. He looked like a black widow amongst butterflies. "For what?" he added sardonically.
The monk looked surprised. "For the Lord's protection!"
"If you think the Lord has any interest in our affairs, Brother Girolamo, you have another think coming! But please, by all means, continue to delude yourself, if it helps you to pass the time."
Brother Girolamo was shocked. "What you speak is blasphemy!" He cried out.
"No. I speak truth," Stefano spat out.
"How can you say such things? You are yourself a priest!"
"I am an administrator. I use these clerical robes to bring me closer to the accursed Medici, so that I may chop them off at the knees, in the service of my true Master. But first, there is still the business of this Assassin, Ezio. For too long he has been a thorn in our side, and we must pluck him out."
"There you speak truth. That unholy demon!"
"Well," said Stefano with a crooked smile. "At least we agree on something."
Girolamo lowered his voice. "They say the Devil has given him unnatural speed and strength."
Stefano looked at him. "The Devil? No, my friend. These are gifts he gave himself, through rigorous training over years." He paused, his scrawny body bent at a pensive angle. "You know, Girolamo, I find it disturbing that you are so unwilling to credit people for their own circumstances. I think you'd make victims out of the entire world if you could."
"I forgive your lack of faith and your forked tongue," replied Girolamo piously. "You are still one of God's children."
"I told you…" Stefano began with some asperity; but then spread his hands and gave it up. "Oh, what's the use? Enough of this! It's like speaking to the wind!"
"I will pray for you."
"If that is your wish, but do so quietly. Until we have this Assassin dead and buried, no Templar can drop his guard for an instant," Stefano stated, sternly.
The monk withdrew with a bow, and Stefano was left alone in the courtyard. The bell for First and Second Qauma had sounded, and all the Community were in the abbey church. Ezio emerged from the shadows like a wraith. Rain sprinkle down as the clouds opened up above as Stefano stalked up and down by the north wall like a crow. He looked restless, impatient, possessed. His face betrayed no hint of surprise when Ezio stepped into his path.
"I am unarmed," Stefano said, he clasped his hands in front of him. "I fight with the mind."
"To use that, you must remain alive." Ezio golden eyes flared, and he twisted his wrist preparing to draw out his hidden blade. "I have no intention of letting that happen."
"Would you kill me in cold blood?"
"I will kill you because it is necessary that you die."
"A good answer! But do you not think I may have secrets that would be useful to you?" Stefano questioned, as if he were not afraid of death.
"I can see that you would not bow under any torture. So I shall spare us both the effort and time and just be done with it," Ezio stated, his toneless and flat.
Stefano looked at him appraisingly. "I will take that as a compliment, though I am not so sure myself. However, it is of merely academic significance." He paused, before continuing in his thin voice. "You have missed your chance, Ezio. The die is cast. The Assassins' cause is lost. I know you will kill me whatever I do or say, and that I shall be dead before the midday Mass is over; but my death will profit you nothing. The Templars already have you in check, and soon it will be checkmate."
"You cannot be sure of that."
"I am about to meet my Maker…if He exists at all. It will be refreshing to find out. In the meantime, why should I lie?" Stefano commented, with a languid roll of his shoulders.
Ezio released his dagger.
"How clever," commented Stefano. "What will they think of next?"
"You have only one moment for redemption," Ezio told him, his voice cutting and cold. "For only a moment is all I am prepared to spare you. Tell me what you know."
"What do you wish to know? The whereabouts of my Master, Jacopo?" Stefano smiled thinly. "That is easy. He meets our confederates soon, at night, in the shadow of the Roman gods." He paused only for a breath before he continued. "I hope that makes you happy, for nothing you can do will make me say more. And it is in any case of no significance, for I know in my heart that you are too late. My only regret is that I will not see your own undoing-but who knows? Perhaps there is an Afterlife, and I shall be able to look down on your death. But for the present-let us get this unpleasant business over with. Do me the favour of sending me quickly into the night, hmm?"
Ezio considered the request swiftly, and then he stabbed once, deeply, and with deadly accuracy. By the time the flocks started to leave the church, Stefano De Bagone was long dead.
And the Assassin no where to be found.
Olivia managed to pull herself away from the dancing. While she may have loved dancing, she knew that it did not have the same freedom as it did in her time. In this day and age, dancing was mainly meant for courtships. She danced because she loved the movements and the motions, matching ones heart beat to the music. Who knows of those who approached her motives were? She had hoped that putting herself in the crowd would provide something useful. So far she had heard many hushed whispers about the murders, but they were nothing she did not already know.
Biting back a noise of frustration, Olivia glanced around to see the Machiavelli had wandered off somewhere. He was chatting up to the nobility that were around here, and tried to uncover something that way. She had yet to spot Giaordano Borgia, or Romano Salvatore. That was both comforting and worrying. Comforting that she did not have to confront the possible threat head on just yet, and worrying because if they were not here…then where were they? More importantly what were they doing? A chill rushed down her spine, and Olivia clasped her goblet a little more tightly. It took everything in her not to lose her composure when she noticed the shadow beside her.
"Shouldn't you be in your foxhole?" Olivia demanded, dryly. Why did they even bother asking her to do this job if they were going to be trailing her every movement? Or perhaps that was intentional. A test to determine her trustworthiness. She bristled inwardly, she did not like the sensation of being a hamster put in a wheel for someone else's amusement. The more rational part of her understood the necessity of such things, though it didn't mean she disliked it any less.
"And miss the festivities?" La Volpe said, his tone lacking its usual bite. "Never."
"Hmmm." She considered the Master Thief over the rim of her goblet. He was not here for festivities. He was here for the killer, plain and simple. A man driven by revenge, and not common sense. She only hoped that this did not complicate things worse than they already were. "What a callow attitude for someone getting on in years such as yourself."
La Volpe made a noise in the back of his throat. "Don't you have something you are supposed be doing?" The Master Thief gave her a narrowed eyed look.
Olivia rolled her eyes. "I just saw Romando walk in with his wife on his arm. I am biding my time now, so if you don't mind…" Olivia cut herself off when a young child came rushing up towards her. "Uh, hello," she said, awkwardly.
The little twirled her skirt between her fingers. She stared up at Olivia with wide eyes and bit back a smile. "Hello," she said, cutely.
"Are you lost?" Olivia smiled, bemused. "Do you need someone to find your parents?"
"You don't have time for that," La Volpe hissed.
Olivia ignored him. Her eyes torn between her prey and the young girl who stood in front of her. The little girl looked a bit embarrassed. "Are you a queen?" The child asked, in wonder. "You look like a queen."
Olivia couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. For one, kid's were blunt with their honesty and the simple comment made Olivia preen ever so slightly. "A queen of thieves," Livvy whispered to the little girl, with a smug little grin. La Volpe made a noise behind her, and she caught him rolling his violet eyes at her. "Something you'd like to say?"
"Nothing that is meant for innocent ears," La Volpe commented, with a half smirk.
Olivia let out a light snort before she returned her gaze to the crowd, trying to pinpoint where Romano had disappeared off to barely aware of the little girl's giggles. The little girl asked, "Do you have a king?"
"Ezio's my king…" Livvy trailed off, then her words registered in her mind. A mortified blush warmed her cheeks, and she sputtered, pressing her knuckles to her red face. Her eyes flickered to the Master Thief who was looking at her amused eyebrow raised, and then choked out. "Ezio's my friend! Ezio's my friend. Don't tell him I said that, he'll never let me live it down."
"And what will you do to silence me?" La Volpe rose an intrigued eyebrow, as the excited child danced away.
"Not what you're thinking," Livvy narrowed her eyes.
"And pray tell, what am I thinking?" The thief was smug.
"You're Italian, you're male," she snapped. "It isn't that hard to figure it out."
"Do not flatter yourself," La Volpe told her, and then he was gone. He slinked through the crowd, and not three seconds later, Olivia had lost him.
Olivia gave a light snort underneath her breath, and took another drink of her goblet. "Time to mingle," she breathed out, marching forward into the crowd. She raised her chin like a queen, holding her dignity and aloofness like a golden crown. The sea of people moved around her dizzily, in a slow dance. They moved in sync and circled each other, then dipping one way then the other. The only touching allowed was when they turned to go repeat the process, their palms were allowed the briefest of touches. It could be, Livvy determined, very erotic and sensual done properly. Nobility had the greatest privilege of being taught dances, a requirement of sorts. Olivia wondered idly as she and Niccolò danced around the room, her eyes sweeping across the great many of people, if Ezio knew how to dance like this.
"My, what is a beauty such as yourself doing walking alone?" A voice commented from behind her, and she whirled around to find herself confronted with Romano Salvatore himself. Apprehension curled within her stomach as she remembered what had been done to those poor women, and reminded herself that this man might be responsible for them.
"Waiting for a dance partner," Olivia managed to place a convincing smile on her face. She sipped from the goblet lightly, and let her eyes flicker towards the crowd as if uninterested in his attentions. She really ways, but she was after all playing a part.
"Surely you are not in short supply," Romano said, charmingly. Despite the many years on his face, he had aged well.
"Ah, but I am a firm believer of quality over quantity," said Olivia, with a light smirk. "I fear for the number of dancers here that I have not found the right fit. My poor feet have suffered for it in a number of ways."
"Then allow me to rectify that," Romano smiled.
Olivia felt suspicion blossom in her heart, but allowed her hand to slide in Romano's. It took everything in her to keep the tension from seeping into her bones, she quickly managed to assimilate to the dance. It's steps easy compared to the parkour she did on a daily bases.
"I do not believe that I have seen you before at such a gathering as this before," Romano stated, lightly.
Olivia almost missed a step, but swept back into the dance with ease. She had not suspected such a question, and her eyes sharpened upon Romano. "I fear that I prefer to play more of the wallflower than to move upon the dance floor. It does not surprise me that I've escaped many notice," Olivia used her words carefully, feeling sick to her stomach as her palm touch his.
"Then what has given you such courage to step into the light?" Romano questioned.
"Perhaps I've had plenty of liquid courage," Olivia arched a brow, and her lips pursed ever so slightly. "You have a lovely wife."
Romano paused, surprise and something else flickered in his gaze. "Indeed. I do. I am very lucky man," Romano commented, his voice suspiciously quiet.
"Should you not be dancing with her?" Olivia questioned, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Did his wife knowing anything? Perhaps she could
"I would, but I'm afraid that other company has stolen her away for the time being," Romano explained, with a dismissive note in his voice. "You are a lovely dancer."
"A lovely compliment," Olivia said, her eyebrow lifted. "At what cost does it come?"
"Freely," Romano looked faintly surprised.
"What a novelty indeed," Olivia mused, not believing it in the slightest. She gave him a toothy smile as the music began to come to an end. "A man who gives dances and compliments freely, I believe such gentlemen did not exist anymore."
"My husband is one of the best," a voice cut into their dance and the music came softly to an end. Olivia turned and came face to face with a beautiful red headed woman. Her olive skin glowed in the torch light, and her smile was too big on her face. Her golden dressed shined, and Olivia felt a zing of surprise rush through her.
"Ah, mi cara, there you are," Romano said, relief in his voice. "I am glad to see that you are finally free."
"Yes," his wife said, her tone soft. "And if it is not too much to ask, I would love for my husband to dance with me?"
"He's all yours," Olivia stepped back, perhaps too eagerly. As the couple danced away, she walked away hoping to find La Volpe or Niccolò. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she made herself pace herself when she wanted to race up the steps, and she felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. As though all the muscles tightened, and knotted up. A cold sweat broke out along her skin as she moved quickly over the veranda. She came around a corner only to pull back with a gasp, and hand over her heart. "I could kill you," she snapped, glowering up at violet eyes.
"You could try," La Volpe scoffed.
"Have you seen Niccolò?" Olivia took a deep breath, steadying herself on a nearby wall. "I have something I need to tell him."
"No," the Fox looked over her curiously. "Why? What have you found? Does it have anything to do with the fact that you acted as if the hounds of hell were nipping at your heels?"
"It is what I've seen," she countered, pressing her hand to her stomach. "But I would rather no share my suspicions…" Her eyes clenched closed as a flare of pain lashed up through, and she stumbled ever so slightly. La Volpe caught her arm, his eyes widened in slight surprise. After taking a steady breath, Olivia licked her parched lips. "Something's wrong," she choked out, as another strike of pain ripped through her. More intense and agonizing than the last.
"What is going on?" Niccolò questioned, as he walked up to them. He had spotted Olivia living the party in a rush, and made to follow.
"Oh…God…" Olivia's knees buckled, and if it had not been for La Volpe's arm, she would have collapsed. The pain did not halt any longer, instead it felt as if her insides were being torn from the inside out. "I…think I'm dying…"
"We cannot afford to draw even more attention," Niccolò wiped a hand down his face. His dark eyes shot up to La Volpe face, and his jaw clenched. "Can you take her to the painter's studio with haste?"
La Volpe gave a sharp nod.
"Bene. Do that," Niccolò ordered, his voice a harsh whisper. "I will take my leave, and follow you on horseback. Go! Go!"
"Oh…no…" Olivia moaned, pitifully. Her body shook and trembled, and she couldn't give proper protest when La Volpe hoisted her up into his arms. "No…"
"Hold on," was all the warning La Volpe gave her before he started running at full speed. He was lucky he did not know how tempted Olivia was to throw up all over him.
Leonardo threw his paint brush into the air when his door was busted open, and he reached for his dagger he kept nearby only to blink when he saw the legendary Fox with Olivia in his arms. "Mio Dio, what happened?" Leonardo exclaimed, his eyes widened as he took in the ashen pallor to Olivia's face. "Bring her here! Bring her here!" With the help of his assistant, Leonardo cleared off the table. More like he knocked everything off the table, and left his assistant to take of the mess as La Volpe lowered Olivia onto the table.
Leonardo examined Olivia, pulling her eyes open and he cursed, violently. He grasped Olivia by the shoulders, tightly and made her lean over the edge of the table, belly across the top so her head hung over the side. Pulling an empty vase to sit on the floor below her, Leonardo took her face gently between his hands and pried her mouth with his thumb. Pain rippled through her, she twisted and fought against him but he tightened his grip, refusing to give way.
"Listen to me, Olivia," he said urgently. "You have been poisoned. We must rid your stomach of its contents. I must make you vomit. I'm sorry, but I there is no other choice."
Olivia trembled, her mind whirling. She clenched her eyes closed, and grasped the table tightly, trying to find some kind anchor. As soon as her lips parted, he thrust his fingers to the back of her throat and she gagged and convulsed. With only one arm to hold her, it was difficult.
"She's fighting. Help me hold her," he barked to La Volpe.
La Volpe leaped forward, hands reaching out and holding down the thrashing woman. Leonardo murmured a quiet apology underneath his breath, forcing his fingers to the back of her throat. Olivia gagged again then she vomited onto the floor. She coughed and moaned pitifully, a sob ripping through her throat that she could not stop even if she tried. It felt like she was being tore apart from the inside out.
"Again, Olivia," Leonardo's voice left no room for argument. "I know it is difficult to be put through such pain, but if there is any chance at surviving, it must be done."
Olivia barely comprehended the words. Everything seemed hazy and distant, but she managed a small nod. La Volpe held her tight while Leonardo repeated the action once more.
Olivia instantly retched again. The putrid smell of bile burning her nose, and coating her mouth. There was pool of vomit, with faint traces of blood on the floor and she stared at it dazed. She swallowed, her eyes widening in panic as her stomach violently heaved. As beads of perspiration broke out across her face and she managed to throw La Volpe and Leonardo an angry glare. She wanted them to go away as she vomited, feeling more than little humiliated in such a weak state.
Neither of them left.
Coughing and giving a moan of misery, she was almost tempted to use La Volpe's cloak as a towel to wipe her face. She hated them both, and even more, she hated what they had gotten her into. She should have stayed with Ezio, she thought mournfully. "N…n-no m-mention this to E-ezio," she managed to mumbled out.
The studio door burst open once more, and a severe looking Niccolò stepped through. He shut it quietly behind him, and walked over. He looked down at Olivia who tried to shield her face with her arms. "I did warn you that it was not a place of merriment," Niccolò breathed out, a sigh of relief.
"Ugh…" Olivia did not feel in the mood for a lecture. "Do…I look merry?" She glared up at him through tear filled eyes, her stomach cramped violently. That was something she was going to be feeling for days to come, she had no doubt.
"No," La Volpe huffed, lightly. "You look half dead."
"Looks who is talking," Olivia managed a glower.
"It is your fault," La Volpe growled out.
Olivia huffed out a laugh, it wasn't a real laugh. She pressed her palms to her forehead, her skin felt hot and she felt like she was one step from passing out. "Don't blame me…I almost died," she said, her voice shaking and her throat convulsed. "Besides…it wasn't a c-complete waste…"
"How was it not a complete waste?" La Volpe growled.
"Romano…he poisoned me, or had help," Olivia pinched, the bridge of her nose. She was trying to muster up the energy to continue speaking as the dark shadow started to climb into her vision. "But…his wife is the missing courtesan…from all those years ago…the one who saw Borgia…"
Black.
Mario had been waiting on Ezio's return when Machiavelli's courier stumbled into his office. He did not let his surprise show even though this was most unexpected for Niccolò to send his courier and not a letter. "Catch your breath," he ordered, his voice grave. "What has happened?"
"Mas…Master Machivelli sent me to tell you that there has been another m…murder. But that is not…all. The Red Hood…she was poisoned," Machiavelli's courier explained, quietly.
Too bad for him, Ezio walked into the room at that exact moment and he had excellent hearing. "Olivia was what?" Ezio demanded, his voice echoed of the wall thunderously.
The courier and Mario winced.
Needlessly to say Ezio's trip to Monteriggioni was short lived. After giving his uncle a short overview of Stefano De Bagone's death, Ezio departed from the city declining the invitation to stay the night. He rode longer after the sun had set, and he did not stop.
He had only one goal on his mind.
Get to Olivia.
END OF CHAPTER!
NEXT CHAPTER: The search for the murderer comes to a head, while Olivia makes a choice that can't be taking back, and Ezio is not happy one bit.
Hope you all enjoyed! Original this chapter was going to be longer, but I felt it needed to be cut in half.
EDITED (If you catch any mistakes, let me know. I have went over it, but I may have missed a few things)
Rrs are appreciated.