Chapter 3 The Training Begins
They moved Nora to a different room the morning after she surrendered. Not a cell this time, but an actual room in the main house. Small, sparse, but it had a real bed, a bathroom with running water, and a window with bars.
A guard brought her breakfast. Real food. Eggs, toast, coffee. Her hands shook as she ate, her body desperately craving the fuel. Every movement still hurt from the beating, but she was alive. She had chosen to stay alive.
Now she had to live with that choice.
Mid-morning, there was a knock on the door. Not the aggressive pounding of guards, but an actual knock. Polite. Almost civilized.
“Come in,” Nora said, her voice still hoarse.
The door opened, and a man stepped inside.
He was younger than she expected. Maybe late twenties, early thirties at most. Tall, lean, with dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead. He wore black pants and a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His face was clean-shaven, angular, with dark eyes that held something she hadn’t expected to see in this place.
Kindness. Or maybe just the memory of it.
“Miss Carter.” He closed the door behind him and extended his hand. “I’m Noah.”
Nora stared at his hand but didn’t take it. She remained seated on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed despite the pain it caused her ribs.
“The right hand man,” she said flatly.
“Yes.” He lowered his hand, seemingly unbothered by her rejection. “I’ll be training you for your new position.”
“Lucky me.”
Noah pulled a chair from the corner and sat down, maintaining a respectful distance. He studied her for a moment, taking in the bruises on her face, the way she held herself carefully to protect her broken ribs.
“I know you don’t want to be here,” he began.
“Brilliant observation.”
“And I know you probably hate everyone in this compound, including me.”
“You work for him. You do his dirty work. So yes, I hate you.” Nora’s voice was sharp, bitter. “Is there a point to this conversation, or are we just stating the obvious?”
Noah’s jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. “The point is that whether you hate me or not, I’m here to help you survive this. The Mafia King has given me orders to train you, and I will. What you do with that training is up to you.”
“How noble.”
“I’m going to explain how this works,” Noah continued, ignoring her sarcasm. “The rules, the expectations, the consequences. I suggest you listen carefully, because I won’t repeat myself.”
Nora said nothing, but she didn’t look away either.
Noah leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. “You’ll be executing what we call high-value cons. Your targets will be wealthy individuals. Businessmen, executives, sometimes politicians. People with money and access to things we need.”
“Things you want to steal.”
“Yes.” He didn’t sugarcoat it. “Your job is to get close to them. Become someone they trust. Someone they want. You’ll meet them in hotels, restaurants, social events. You’ll be charming, sophisticated, whatever they need you to be.”
“A prostitute, you mean.”
Noah’s expression hardened. “If that’s what the job requires, then yes. But not always. Sometimes all you need to do is gain their confidence. Get invited to their homes, their offices. Access their computers, their phones. Some targets just need someone to talk to. Someone who listens.”
“And then you steal from them.”
“We extract information. Bank account details, passwords, business secrets. Sometimes we plant devices that give us remote access to their systems. The tech team handles the actual theft. Your job is just to provide the access.”
Nora felt sick. “And if I refuse to sleep with someone?”
“Then the job fails, and you face the consequences.” Noah’s voice was matter of fact. “But there are rules. You’re not expected to do anything that will get you killed or seriously injured. If a target becomes violent or dangerous, you extract yourself immediately. Your safety is valuable to the organization.”
“How reassuring.”
“Rule one,” Noah continued, holding up a finger. “You never, ever reveal who you’re working for. Not under any circumstances. If you’re caught, if the police get involved, you say nothing. The organization has lawyers who will handle it.”
“Rule two: you never steal from a target on your own. Everything goes through the team. If you’re caught pocketing money or valuables for yourself, the punishment is severe.”
“How severe?”
“You don’t want to find out.”
Nora swallowed hard.
“Rule three: you maintain your cover at all times. When you’re on a job, you’re whoever we’ve created you to be. Different name, different background, different personality if necessary. You never break character until you’re back here.”
“Rule four: you work with a team. Me, Beverley, and Sam. We coordinate every job. You’re the face, but we’re the support. You listen to us, you follow the plan, you don’t improvise unless absolutely necessary.”
“And if something goes wrong?”
“Then you follow the extraction protocol. Every job has a backup plan. A way out if things go sideways. But rule five, and this is critical: you never abandon the team. If one of us is in danger, we all get out together.”
Noah paused, watching her carefully. “Do you understand everything I’ve said so far?”
“I understand that I’m trapped,” Nora said quietly.
“Yes. You are. But if you’re smart, if you follow the rules, you can survive this. Maybe even earn privileges. Better living conditions, more freedom within the compound, eventually—”
“Freedom to leave?”
Noah’s silence was answer enough.
Nora looked away, staring at the barred window. “What else?”
“There are things you don’t do,” Noah said. “You don’t ask questions about the Mafia King’s identity. You don’t enter restricted areas of the compound. You don’t attempt to contact anyone from your previous life. You don’t try to escape.” His voice dropped lower. “People who try to escape don’t make it far. And when they’re brought back, the punishment is worse than anything you experienced yesterday.”
The beating. Nora touched her swollen eye unconsciously.
“Your training was supposed to start two days ago,” Noah said, standing up. “But due to your refusal, time has passed. The Mafia King has decided you don’t have the luxury of practice runs anymore.”
Nora’s head snapped toward him. “What does that mean?”
“It means your first job starts tomorrow night.”
Her stomach dropped. “Tomorrow? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to—”
“Then you’ll learn fast.” Noah’s voice was harder now, impatient. “I’ll brief you on the target this afternoon. You’ll have tonight to prepare. That’s all the time you get.”
“That’s insane. I’ll fail. I’ll—”
“Then you better make sure you don’t.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “Your target’s name is Julian Holloway. He’s a hedge fund manager. Fifty-two years old, divorced, lives in Manhattan. He frequents an upscale bar called The Velvet Room every Friday night. You’ll meet him there, gain his interest, and secure an invitation back to his apartment.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Noah turned to face her fully. “Once you’re in his apartment, you’ll distract him long enough for our tech guy,Sam to access his home computer remotely after you've inserted the chip which will be given to you into his computer. We need his banking passwords and access to his client portfolio. The whole job should take three hours, maybe four.”
“And if I can’t get him to take me home?”
“Then you have failed your first assignment.”
“What’s the punishment for failing?” Nora asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Noah’s expression darkened. He looked away, and for a moment, she saw something flicker across his face.
“The Mafia King has a special room in the compound,” he said quietly. “The Dark Room. It’s in the basement of the workers’ quarters. Soundproofed. No light except what they allow. No furniture. Just concrete and darkness.”
He met her eyes again.
“If you fail, you’ll spend three days in that room. Alone. No food, No water, No human contact. Just you and the dark and whatever your mind does to you in there and then you’ll be beaten up without mercy.”
Nora felt her breath catch.
“After three days, they’ll bring you out, give you one day to recover, and send you on another job. If you fail that one, it’s another round of an even worse punishment.”
“And if I fail again?”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “No one’s ever failed three times. At least, not anyone who’s still alive.”
The words hung in the air between them like a death sentence.
“I’ll come back this afternoon with more details,” Noah said, his voice professional again. “Get some rest. Take a shower. There are clothes in the closet. Tomorrow night, you need to look like someone Julian Holloway would want to take home.”
He opened the door.
“Noah,” Nora called out.
He stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Why are you here? Why do you work for him?”
For a long moment, Noah was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Because sometimes, Miss Carter, we don’t get to choose our prisons. We just learn to survive in them.”
Then he was gone, leaving Nora alone with the weight of tomorrow night pressing down on her chest.
And if she failed, three days of darkness waiting to swallow her whole.