The Beautiful Spy – Chapter 1

Correction: Myra’s father Rob was a spy.

***

Location: Venice, Italy
October, 2020

I.Am.A.Russian.Spy.

Sometimes I do wonder I could’ve worked for the government but the world I live in has taught me better.
I can proudly admit that I am the best spy in the whole of Russia.
I’ve helped us achieve a level that we only dreamt of. We have conquered over many drug dealers, started business on international levels. Our links have widened extensively. The money coming out of it has helped in expanding our business far more greatly in the past three years than it has ever been.
We have legalised the clubs and hotels in the town. The police works for us at our beck and call.
The cops are sold. The magistrates are sold. The politicians are sold.
I don’t need to be in the government. The government f**king works for us.

I’ve been told I’ve got the genes of my father and everytime I hear it, my blood gushes in anger. If he was good at his work, he wouldn’t have been caught. He wouldn’t have been chased and killed.
If he was good at it, he would’ve been right here. Right now. By my side.

That is why I believe if you do something you must thrive to be the best at it. You must acknowledge it and appreciate yourself.

The reason why I’ve been selected among the best of spies for this mission is because my motive, my focus, my goal has always been one.
Revenge from Stefano Romano.
The most awaited day of my life.

A new beginning.

The plane took a landing in the runway and the little turbulence woke me up from my light doze.
It was half past 4 in the evening. The sky was cloudless blue. The city was glowing with the bright lights. Car honking and the boat rowers created an unavoidable tune.
Suddenly, my heart thudded in my chest unreasonably making me feel uneasy. I rubbed on it repeatedly inhaling deeply.
After it slowed to its normal pace, I took out the paper from my back pocket. It read

House no.11, 2nd floor.
Romita Apartment
Via mestrina, Mestre
Venice, Italy.

The cab dropped me to the address and swiftly zoomed back to the road.
I scoured the surrounding through my observative eyes. One street light was blinking among the bright ones.
All the buildings were almost similarly architectured. Among the four storeyed buildings aligned symmetrically, Romita apartment seemed to be the less attentively built. The flower pots dangling in the balcony from each floor added a hint of beauty which kept aside, gave it an old, tarnish sight.

The city however had looked beautiful from the car window. The choice of my stay was decided even before I kept a foot on this land.
I could swear it must have been a tough job for George to find a place like this in this beautiful city.

I lifted my luggage through the narrow stairs which made some annoyed noises in between whilst hitting its wheels to the lifeless, corroded railing pipes.
Finally reaching to the mentioned house number, I found that the door was locked. I was supposed to share the room with a woman who was currently nowhere to be seen, adding to my exasperated state.

I rummaged through the mass of essential items I was carrying in the backpack in search of the key. Apparently, I had thought Evangeline Bianchi being informed beforehand would have made this key useless enough to be carried around in the pocket.

It was the click that gave me a vague satisfaction. I pushed open the door just to get hit by a sudden whiff of sweet aroma channeling my olfactory sense. It was a contrast to the reeking smell from the neighborhood.
I pulled my luggage inside. The main door which led me to a hall had a small sofa adjusted in the middle. A bunch of tuberose was sticking out from the vase set at the corner table.
The balcony and kitchen faced each other.

I ran my hands through the laminate countertop. It was super-sleek to touch. There was nothing syrupy or sickly-sweet visible that my senses had the air of being requisite for the earlier toothsome fragrance.

I kicked open the room nearer to the balcony and instantly regretted. It was too clean to be true. The room was small yet spacious enough to do a ramp walk. The bathroom was attached to each room which was a great deal considering the price was too high for an apartment in this area of the town.
The light blue curtains seemed feathery, the setting sun ablazing  through it. The bedsheet was free of any crease or fold, stretched out evenly to its ends. Some neatly stacked books were placed in the shelf.
I wiped the faint spot at the door hurriedly with my hand where I had kicked earlier and closed it more carefully.

The other room was nearer to the kitchen which I assumed mine.
It was spotless as if someone had just scrubbed the floor. Except the lack of curtains and a proper bedsheet, it was quiet pleasant.

I could only hope that my roommate doesn’t turn out to be an OCD sufferer, high maintenance freak who has a habit of fluffing the pillows all day.

Taking a cold shower after a seven hour flight felt refreshing. I changed myself into a comfortable pair of pyjamas before rummaging the fridge to find something to consume and all I could find was a bowl of pasta from last night. I took it in my room and gobbled up anyway.

My weary body and appetized stomach snoozed immediately as my back hit the mattress. The slow breeze from the window caressed my skin and lulled me.

***

The faint noise of keys juggling alarmed me. I could hear light footsteps coming closer. I lifted myself up on elbow and as on cue the door was unlatched.

I registered the silhoutte of a slim, petite woman of about 5’2.

My eyes constricted as she switched on the lights.

“Hey, I am so sorry. Did I wake you up?” Her voice was soft and timid.

She was wearing an olive cardigan over a tank top with a pair of light blue jeans. Her thick black curls looked wind-blown.

If not for the voice, I’d have retorted with a ‘Yes, thank you very much.’

“I am Evangeline by the way. You can call me Eva.” She sticked out her hand towards me.

“Myra.” I shook her hand discarding the resist in me, and pulled back before it could linger.
Going with my real name was a very risky step I had decided to take.

“When did you reach? I wanted to come early but the bakery got crowded at the evening hours.” She apologetically admitted.

“That’s okay. I reached around five.” I politely answered as was taught by Zhanna.

I was well informed about the fact that Evangeline Bianchi, my roommate worked in a bakery near the town square.

“You are very pretty by the way. You Italian?” She voiced out her thoughts, standing awkwardly near the doorstep.

“Thank You. Yeah.” I smiled.

Not too sweet, not too harsh.
Nothing to give away.
Zhanna’s voice played in my head.

“You must be tired.” She spoke, onsidering my intent of keeping the conversation short.
“We shall chat later.” She continued excitedly.

Her smile was so constant I could feel my own insides hurt.

She closed the door just to slid her head seconds later.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask do you mind if I cook meat for dinner?”

“That’s totally fine. Would you need help?” I offered, as polite as I could possibly be.

“That’d be okay.” She smiled through the narrow slid she refused to open.

Eva was a very talkative woman. It is as if she is wasting her breath if it didn’t come out appreciating a syllable.
She had complimented me for an hour with every adjective she has ever known. She was so extra I had thought ‘bewitching’ was just an exaggerated term she used if not for the way she stared at me unbelievably every once in a while.

She placed the two-inch steak and drizzled some olive oil on it for the start. The later happened in a frenzy, in an incomprehensible manner. Her hands were quick and steady.

“You don’t know cooking. Do you?” She chuckled while putting the sliced meat on the heated pan.
I felt like a miserable sorehead in front of this small imperturbable bonhomie woman.
I gave her a sheepish smile sending a silent apology for simply standing like a fool.

“You can put on a movie. I will bring this.” She suggested.
I quickly vanished from her sight with a nod in search for a movie to watch.

I couldn’t help but notice her aligning the pillows before sitting on the sofa.

My stomach instantly rumbled as she put on the plate, the tangy aroma hitting my nostrils.
She was evidently great in cooking.
The butter-ly flavour bursted in my mouth as soon as I took a bite.

An hour passed watching something I could only guess was some sad movie.

“So, do you have a job?” She started.

She told me about the bakery she works in. Apparently, it was her grandmother’s which she inherited.
And she even filled me with the details of how her oven in the bakery broke down few days ago and she had to bake them in the house before carrying them all the way.

As someone who doesn’t even have a hand on the field of cooking, it sounded very laborious and strenuous.
I genuinely felt bad for her.
So I did the best I could, changing the subject to me.

“The dragon has appointed me as the new bartender.”

The squeal that erupted from her on the mention of the dragon was quiet deafening to be honest.

“The dragon? Are you serious?” She was surprised would be an understatement. Albeit, it was not unexpected. The Dragon was a popular bar amongst the gangsters and bikers owned by the Romanos. It was not the most preferred place for anyone civil, much less bartending.

“Are you even aware that it is one of the most dangerous bar in the town?” She continued.

I wanted to smile at her innocence. She hasn’t even known me for a day but was already exhibiting a genuine care towards me.
Little did she know, it was not me she needs to worry about.

Dragon was just the start of the plan.

***

A/N : Hey lovelies, I hope you enjoyed the read.
Please drop me your reviews. I really enjoy reading your comments.
Have a nice day and be safe.

RoshniY

Hi! I am Roshni. I write to put my thoughts into words. If you want quicker updates visit me on wattpad - @CallmeRosh

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