Chapter 7: Codename: Blackheart Chapter Seven

Grandpa Titus – more commonly known by the codename Akephaloi due to his old-school flare for decapitating people – is the definition of a silver fox. He’s 6’3” and at the age of seventy-nine is still as buff and muscular as my dad. He has some wrinkling on his forehead and around his blueish-grey eyes, but besides that, his skin doesn’t show much sign of aging. He has shoulder-length, wavey salt-and-pepper hair and a short salt-and-pepper beard with a moustache. His long-pointed nose is slightly crooked due to breaking it so many times, but it just makes him look tough. He used to dress more sophisticated like my dad, but since retirement, he just sticks to basic loafers, jeans, button-down shirts, and the occasional flannel.

Grandpa tightens his hold on me and breathes me in. His hold is warm and comforting as I inhale his familiar smell of sandalwood and cigars. Odd combination but it’s his, so I like it.

“Dad, you’re suffocating the poor girl,” Dad scolds, making me chuckle.

“Sorry, dear. I’ve just missed you terribly,” Grandpa says with a sheepish smile as he kisses my cheeks.

“I’ve missed you too, so suffocate me all you like,” I say, grinning up at him. He simply laughs and hugs me.

“I noticed you haven’t unpacked yet,” he states.

“Not yet. I just got in the door when I heard Mum shouting in Italian.”

“Yes, I heard that too,” he says glancing over at my dad, “But your father appears to have survived unscathed. I’ve always said if your father hadn’t pursued your mother, I’d have arranged their marriage. He was smart not to let her get away,” Grandpa says thoughtfully. Dad just rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around my mum, kissing her temple.

“I love you, Titus, but had you even tried to arrange a marriage for me, I’d have poisoned your food,” Mum says nonchalantly as she folds her arms. Dad hides his laugh in her hair.

“I’d have liked to see you try,” says Grandpa, and Mum just rolls her eyes. “No, really, I would. I can’t help but wonder how you’d have gone about it,” Grandpa says earnestly as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

“You’re one of a kind Titus,” she responds, shaking her head and giving him a warm smile.

“You flatter me, my dear,” he nods in gratitude.

“How about you two go catch up and I’ll start working on something for us to eat?” Mum suggests before shooing me and Grandpa out of the kitchen. Grandpa wraps my arm around his and guides me out through the living room, through the entertainment room, and out to the backyard.

Grandpa and I walk arm and arm down the stone steps of the back patio and into the backyard. The backyard is open land with a very expansive garden made up of flower bushes and is walled off by knee-high hedges; it’s like a stunning mini maze. Past the garden is a large pond that is the same width as the garden and if you keep venturing further to the back of the property then you’ll find our family mausoleum. Which reminds me…

“It’s Grandma’s anniversary soon. Is that why you came home?” I softly ask my grandfather. 

He tightens his hold on my arm and gives me a sad smile. “I can’t believe it’s been six years since she left us. It still feels like only yesterday.” I can hear the sorrow in his voice. He’s a tough man and can be colder than even me, but my grandma Talyssa was his everything. It broke him when she passed away from a chest infection. She survived all manner of people trying to kill her and yet her death came at the hands of a microscopic bug. Just never know when it’s your time, I guess. 

“I miss her too. We’ll bring her her favourite flowers, she’d like that,” I say encouragingly. 

He nods with a soft smile. “I would like that very much. You’ve always been such a good granddaughter and you’ve always made us proud,” he tells me, kissing my cheek. 

My grandparents didn’t have a conventional beginning, but hell, who in this family has? Titus and Talyssa were actually arranged, no one ever really told me why Great Grandpa Costin arranged their marriage, but it worked out great. So great in fact, that Grandma Talyssa went from being a humble young woman to an assassin just like Grandpa. She went by the codename Ajna because she preferred to use guns and always aimed for the centre of the head. Easy to guess where my dad got his weapon of choice from. 

You might have guessed by now that my family is made up of assassins. It’s my family’s legacy and I’m proud to be a part of it. It’s not exactly traditional but it works for us. 

I’m a fifth-generation assassin on my father’s side. It began with my Great, Great Grandpa Grigore Istrati, or G4, as I jokingly refer to him. We’re told it began with him being hired by royals and other aristocrats to off blood relatives so they could move up the succession ladder. He was poor then, but when he realised how much he could make and how good he was, he just kept going with it. When Great Grandpa Costin was born he wanted to take after his father, and then he passed it on to Grandpa Titus, then my dad, Silas, and now me. 

But that’s not the best part. My mum’s side of the family are assassins too. On my mum’s side, I’m the sixth generation of female assassins originating in Italy. That side began with my Great, Great, Great Grandma Besina. She murdered her abusive father and expected to be executed, but no one suspected her because she was a woman, and women were – and still are – considered too weak and stupid to commit murder. I guess that was a lightbulb moment for her. She decided to take it upon herself to kill on behalf of others and take a profit from it. When she had her daughter – Great, Great Grandma Finola – she wanted her to be strong in a world full of men and taught her to carry on their legacy. Finola then passed it on to her daughter – Great Grandma Viridis – who passed it on to her daughter – Grandma Noemi, known by her codename Veil because she likes to asphyxiate people – then her daughter Dasha – my mother – and then me.

The Vespasiano women are infamous and lethal. So, the fact that my mother, one of the best assassins in the world, ended up married to my father, also one of the best assassins in the world, kind of feels like fate. I’m sure it sounds horrible to think I’m descended from two lines of killers, but hey, I don’t come to your house and tell you how to live.

“Alina?” my grandfather calls me, pulling me from the family tree in my head. 

“Hmm?”

“The Tournament is soon approaching, and you know you’ll be called to participate,” he informs me. Ugh, I forgot about The Tournament. You’d think I’d remember after all these years, but nope.

“I know. But I’m not worried,” I shrug. 

He raises an eyebrow in amusement, “Getting cocky like your grandfather are you?” he asks, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I have some very cocky relatives, so there was no hope for me. But no, I’m not being cocky about it. I just don’t see the point in worrying about it,” I explain, and he looks at me curiously. “The Tournament is inevitable; we all know that and when it comes around either I live, or I die. That’s how it works, so there is no sense in me sitting around worrying about something I can’t control. So I’ll just wait patiently for it to come and, in the meantime, try to prepare my mind and body as best I can,” I say simply. I watch as his eyes become glassy with unshed tears. Crap, now he’s going to make me get all emotional. 

“I will admit, despite the reputation of the women in your mother’s family, I was concerned when your mother had you. You were the first girl born into the Istrati line in generations, but you have shown time and time again you are the embodiment of both our bloodlines. You amaze and impress me every day darling girl and I could not be more proud to be your grandfather,” he says with teary eyes as he cups my cheek. God damn him, now the tears are falling. 

“Thank you, Grandpa,” I whisper struggling to get the words out as I choke on my tears. Anyone seeing me like this now would not think I was the infamous assassin known as Blackheart. I may have a reputation, but that’s work me. At home with the people I love, I’m soft as fuck. It’s almost pathetic. 

My grandpa kisses my cheeks and lets my face go before wrapping my arm around his again. I wipe away my tears as we sit down on the edge of the pond where I lean against him. 

“Where have you been the last few months?” I ask him. Grandpa avoids being home as much as he can, he finds it too painful since Grandma passed away.

“Spent some time in Spain; caught up with old friends. I spent some time in Greece visiting your grandparents, and then I spent the last month in Russia,” he fills me in.

Both sets of my grandparents got along great so I’m not surprised Grandpa went to visit them. Grandpa Mihalis was a former member of the Greek Mafia, but he and Grandma Noemi have both retired from their life of crime. I miss them very much, so I visit them when I can, or they visit us here.

“And how has retirement been for you?” I ask suspiciously. Grandpa Titus is also retired but has had a hard time letting go.

He shrugs, “It’s been like retirement. Nothing worth reporting.” 

“So you haven’t killed anyone?” I push, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“There may have been a couple of people…” he mumbles.

I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re hopeless,” I tell him, still laughing.

“To be fair they weren’t contracts, so it was in my own free time. That should still count as retirement,” he says defensively, which just makes me laugh harder.

“Hilarious how you think killing recreationally is better.” I shake my head in amusement.

“They were a couple of fuckers trying to force themselves on some young girls. It didn’t sit well with me,” he says, a cold, hard edge to his voice. I smile and kiss his cheek. Yeah, my family are killers, but the men in my family are also hardcore romantics and are firmly against sexual assault of any kind.

“Just one of the many reasons why I love you, Grandpa,” I say brightly.

“No one, not man or woman, should ever force themselves on another. Only a pathetic low life does that. Sex is a beautiful, intimate experience that should never be marred because someone lacks basic impulse control,” he says sternly, “You remember what I told you, any man or woman ever dare touch you without your consent you kill that fucker mercilessly,” he says passionately looking in my eyes.

I nod affirmatively, “You can count on it. But I promise no one is ever getting close enough to even try,” I reassure him.

He smiles brightly, “That’s my girl,” he says, wrapping his arm tight around me. 

“LUNCH!” comes my mum’s voice from the back of the house.

“Race ya,” I challenge with a grin as I get up and start running for the house.

“Why, you little…” 

And just like that, we’re racing back to the house. He may be seventy-nine, but the man can still keep up with me. I still won though.