Chapter 24 Interviewing Anna
I looked at him in surprise, honestly wondering how he got things done so fast. Eric never failed to amaze me, but this time, he’d truly outdone himself. I blinked twice and asked, “Already? Damn… that was quick.” He only gave me that smug little smile he wore whenever he wanted credit for efficiency, and I waved my hand dismissively. “Go fetch the girl. I’ll be in the meeting room waiting.”
Eric nodded. “I’ll be right back, boss.”
As soon as he left, I exhaled and ran a hand across my hair. I wasn’t dressed for a meeting, certainly not an interview, so I grabbed the first jacket hanging on the rack by the door and slipped into it. It was slightly oversized. Then I reached for a pair of large, more comfortable pants and slid them on before heading toward the meeting room.
My steps echoed lightly in the hallway, and as I pushed open the tall wooden door, I felt the familiar calmness of the room wrap around me.
A few minutes passed before I heard footsteps approaching, two sets, slow, and measured. The door opened and Eric stepped inside first, followed by the young blonde-haired lady. She stood around five foot seven, her posture straight, and her expression calm. She looked exactly like the photo Eric had shown me, same sharp jawline, same golden eyelashes, same piercing eyes, except she didn’t have the goofy expression she’d had in the picture. Today, there was a soft smile on her face, warm and friendly, not the seriousness most people wore when coming for an interview.
“Good afternoon,” she said in a voice smoother than I expected. “Thank you for having me.”
I arched a brow. “You seem rather cheerful for someone walking into a Mafia estate.”
She grinned. “Well… first impressions matter, don’t they?”
As she got in front of me, she bowed slightly, a gesture that was somehow polite and casual at the same time. I greeted her back with a nod, and before I could say anything else, Eric gestured toward the seat opposite me.
“Please sit,” he told her, then looked at me. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, silence settled. Not awkward, not tense, just anticipatory. I leaned back slightly and began.
“So,” I said, folding my hands on the table, “what’s your name?”
“Anna,” she replied without hesitation.
I nodded. “Good. Now tell me, do you know what kind of person you want to work for?”
She chuckled, a little too boldly for someone sitting across from a Mafia boss being evaluated. “Oh, I’m well briefed. I want to work for a Mafia boss.”
I burst into laughter, shaking my head. “Don’t put it like that.”
She tilted her head. “Why not? Isn’t that what you are?”
I paused, slightly thrown off by her bluntness. She held my stare with unwavering confidence, not arrogance, just certainty. “I am,” I finally answered, “but most people don’t say it to my face on the first day.”
“So I’m not most people,” she countered, her voice steady.
That much was obvious. Normally, anyone speaking that freely in front of me would have gotten thrown out by now. For most bosses in my position, even a hint of perceived disrespect would have ended the interview before it began. But this wasn’t rudeness. This was someone who understood herself and wasn’t afraid to let others see it. Strangely, instead of irritating me, it made me take more interest in her.
I leaned forward. “Alright, Anna. Tell me something that bothers me. Why did you resign from being a CIA agent? And why do you want to work for someone like me, a criminal?”
Her smile faded slightly, replaced by something softer, almost tired. “That’s… a long story.”
“I have time,” I told her. “Go ahead.”
She sighed, sinking a little deeper into her chair before nodding. “Fine. I loved being a CIA agent. At first. I was proud. The missions, the discipline, the purpose. But after a few years, I started seeing things differently. Some decisions they made… some missions they ordered me to carry out… they just didn’t sit right with me. I began questioning my reality, questioning the purpose, questioning whether we were really the ‘good guys’ after all.”
I watched her carefully, noting the way her jaw tightened ever so slightly. This wasn’t acting. This wasn’t scripted. This was raw honesty.
She continued, “And then I realized something else. I could earn more money working in the underground.” She shrugged, almost unapologetic.
I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me. “No matter how you try to package that, don’t compare the Mafia to the CIA. If you had any idea of the things we do, you wouldn’t be saying that so lightly.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m aware of everything. Trust me, I’ve done my research. But at the end of the day…” She spread her hands casually, “I’m after the bag. The money. And if you can pay me fairly, I swear I’ll be the most loyal mother fucker to ever exist.”
The bluntness of her statement caught me off guard, and for the first time since the interview started, I didn’t laugh—I smirked. A genuine one. There was something dangerously refreshing about her. She wasn’t groveling. She didn’t fear me. Not because she underestimated me, but because she understood the world she was stepping into.
I rested my elbows on the table. “You do realize this job isn’t just about getting paid, right? You’re stepping into a world where a single mistake can cost your life.”
Anna didn’t flinch. “I know.”
“And you still want it?”
“Yes.”
Her unwavering tone sent a light thrill through me. The kind of thrill that told me she might be exactly the kind of person I needed, fearless but rational, confident but disciplined, and most importantly… someone who wasn’t intimidated by me.
I leaned back again, observing her silently. She didn’t break eye contact for even a second. She wasn’t fidgeting. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t pretending, either.
“So,” I said at last, “you want loyalty to be your selling point.”
“That,” she replied, “and my skills.”