Nefertiti

I stand in the training facility full of sweat, blood, but no tears. My trainer is in front of me with his arms raised in front of his face, ready to attack again.

“Beatrix, you have to keep going. If a gang full of strong men decide to jump you, you have to be ready and have stamina. You aren’t going to always have your gun, so stop relying on that.” My trainer is the toughest guy I know. He never loses a fight, and he will always find a way to make a guy confess. His torturing methods are insane.

Michael Armani looks like the sweetest guy ever. Strong body, defined jawline, blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. He’s in his mid thirties, but he’s still very attractive. He can be sweet but only when he wants to. I’ve seen him torture men before and it’s not pretty. He once even tore out a man’s eyeball and Michael fed it to his own dog.

“Yeah, I know,” I say breathlessly. “I’m trying to keep up with you, but we’ve been doing this same fight for forty minutes now. Don’t you think that the actual fight should be over by now?”

He gives me a look that tells me I need to shut up and quit whining. “Beatrix Black. I’m training you to be the best you can possibly be. I see so much improvement in you and to get to the level I want you to be at, we should be fighting each other for an hour a day.” He takes a step closer to me. “Just know that if you’re in a situation like this, remember everything I taught you.”

“Yes, sir.” I salute him. “Or I could just shoot them and then I wouldn’t have to waste my energy on those suckers.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, rolling his eyes at me. “Go take a 5 minute break and then meet me in interrogation room number two. I want to go over some tactics to get information out of our missions.

I give him a nod back and then take my water and walk outside. November weather is my favorite type of weather. Temperatures are in the 60’s, and it feels so nice after long training sessions. My Mafia family—Animus—is led by my father: Sirius Black. Our property is in the countryside of Taos, New Mexico. It’s very open out here and beautiful. I love it and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

I also wouldn’t want to do any other job. I love what I’m a part of and what I do. I’ve been training my whole life to be the best tracker, fighter, and daughter that I can be. I kill people for a living. I torture people for a living—and I love it.

I start walking towards the interrogation facility. There are 10 different rooms with different tools in each room (for torturing purposes of course). When I enter I greet the guard working that shift, and head over to room two. Michael is standing next to the tools and examining all of them. There is a guy in the chair with a black bag over his head, and his feet and ankles are tied to the chair.

“Who’s this guy?” I ask.

“He’s a cartel member that was trying to work with us. When your father said no he tried setting bombs around our home. Well, as you can see, we captured him and now are going to get answers from him about this cartel he’s working for.”

“I remember my dad saying something about that but I didn’t really care.”

“So this lesson is going to be about using different tactics to get information out of people. I know you know how to do some tactics already so I want to see what you can do. I will correct you as needed.”

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do this.”