**So it had been brought to my attention that sometimes I use "MacManus" and other times "McManus". My apologizes. I would go through and update every chapter to "MacManus" but ain't nobody got time for that **
Despite me reassuring the twins there were no guards in the house, we still moved very cautiously after we came up from the basement. The moment I saw the expensive designer area rug ion the hallway floor-the same rug Vladimir used to think it was funny to roll me up in-I knew my assumption was correct and we were in my father's mansion.
"Does he carry any weapons?" Conner asked me as I showed them to way to the study.
"Not on him in the house, he keeps all his weapons in a special cabinet in the study. The moment he gets home he goes straight to the study to always put them away." I answered, hoping that habit hadn't changed.
"Didn't you say he'd be in the study?" Murphy asked.
"More than likely. But the cabinet is always kept locked. We'll take him by surprise, he won't have time to get to it and unlock it." I reassured him.
"And you're sure there's no way he'll know we're coming?" Conner furthered questioned.
"All the camera's are on the exterior of the house." I finally stopped and turned to face them, a look of annoyance at their questions on my face, "Now could you both please be quite and just trust me?"
"We do trust you." Murphy began.
"It's just, we know you're not exactly in your right mind at the present time and your memory of how things used to be may be a little off." Conner stated.
"Not to mention he may have a changed a few things since you've been gone." Murphy added.
"My father is a creature of habit." I reassured them one last time as I turned to resume our sneak across the mansion. We quietly ascended up the stairs, and navigated the halls of the mansion's second story to the doors of my father's study. "It won't be locked." I informed them as Conner slowly put his hand on the doorknob and turned ever so calmly.
He pushed the door opened and with his gun drawn he went in first, followed by Murphy. "What the fuck?" I heard my father shout in Russian just before I stepped in through the doorway, dressed in Marco's shirt and boxers, covered in Marco's blood, and holding Sergei's hunting knife. My father's eyes fell right on me the moment I walked in, the moment he saw me a subtle hint of fears struck his gaze. "Valentina…" He began, but I was too impatient. I chucked the knife straight for him, and it pierced right through his shoulder and he screamed.
He was sitting in his favorite armchair by the small fireplace, a book and glass of wine on the coffee table in front of him. Murphy and Conner moved to stand on either side of him, holding their guns to his head as I approached. I flipped the coffee table out of my way, spilling his wine and not giving two shits if it stained his expensive white carpet. I slapped my father across his face and jerked the knife from his shoulder; he screamed again. "What was it you taught me about screaming?" I mocked him in Russian as I stabbed the knife into his thigh. "Only bitches scream?" I left the knife in his thigh as I dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, finding the weapon's cabinet key.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing Valentina?" My father shouted at me as I went over to his prized weapon's cabinet.
"What the fuck do you think?" I looked back at him before unlocking the cabinet. Inside was a katana, a weapon my father knew nothing about but was given as a gift by one of his Japanese clients. I ignored the guns and other knives and went straight for that sword. "Do you remember the day we went to Japan on vacation and your client presented you with this sword? Do you remember what you did with it?"
"Nothing." My father answered, confused. "I never used it."
"Exactly. Such a waste of a beautiful weapon." I took the blade from its sheath and began to walk back to my father in his armchair. "I bet it's still as sharp as the day he gave it to you." I commented as I held the blade to my father's face. I caught glimpses of Conner and Murphy as they watched me. They knew I was not torturer, not like Vlad or Marco, but my father deserved every bit of pain I inflicted and I was going to make sure it was brutal.
"Valentina." A voice caught me off guard. A woman I hadn't taken into consideration during this entire ordeal. My mother. I turned to face the blank expression of my mother as she stood in the doorway of the study, her eyes not showing a single hint of fear or anger. But instead my mother looked to me with understanding. My mother had never approved of what my father raised me to do, and even though she loved him she hated the business he thrived in and had always begged him to spare me from the horrors of his industry. It had always created such a deep tension between them. Which was why now as she took in the sight of me holding that katana in front of him, she didn't question it; but instead simply nodded.
My father's eyes never left me, not even to look at his wife who now gave me the approval to kill him. Without another moment of hesitation, or so much as even another word, I stabbed the sword right into my father's gut with such a force it tore right through the chair and went through the back as I buried it down to the hilt. The blood dripped, and he coughed masses of blood from his mouth onto me as I watched the very life disappear right from his eyes.
It wasn't until after I killed my father I realized how tired I had been. I took a step back, and everything became so cold and blurry. I had been fighting off the drugs for so long, now they were starting to win the battle. I stumbled, and slowly dropped to knees. I heard Murphy shout my name, and felt his arms wrap around me in an attempt to get me back on my feet but I wasn't moving that much was certain. I leaned my head against his chest and I felt his hand pressed against my forehead and heard him mumbled something about me being freezing cold before he whispered to me, "It's ok now, it's over." That was the last thing I remembered before I passed out cold in Murphy's arms.