Alianna stood at the front of Los Angeles International Airport. Her eyes wearily scanned the collection of cars at the departures section, searching for hers. She successfully completed her last job and she wanted nothing more than to go to her home and return to her routine before she was given another job.

Home. Was that the right word to use to describe her hell? She snorted in amusement, earning some strange looks from some passing people. She shot them a glare causing the offenders to duly mind their business.

Alianna felt more and more eyes focusing on her, something she found unsettling. In her peripheral vision she could see a group of boys, slowly inching closer and closer to her, she focused on their conversation. They were going to flirt with her, try to get her number and if she would go out with one of them; how annoying. The noise and hustle of the airport annoyed her as well; it was a huge change from the quiet town in Russia where she spent the last four months.

She spotted a familiar black Jeep and wheeled her luggage over. One of her fellow members stepped out and opened the back passenger door. She nodded at the man before leaving him to handle her luggage before she stepped into the vehicle. She sighed in relief as the door closed, sealing the envelope of silence. She nodded at the driver and the bodyguard-of-sorts as the Jeep started her journey to hell.

~

"Sicario," Alianna looked away from her foam target to the owner of the gruff voice. One of her boss' body guards, towering at over six feet tall and weighing more than 200 pounds of muscle with punches and kicks could kill in an instant. "You have been requested," he stated. The man stayed hidden perfectly in the shadowed corner of the training room.

Alianna raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She had barely been in the building for an hour and the boss already had another job for her? She spent the larger part of the year on numerous jobs. She needed her time to recollect, to wash her hands of her victim's blood, to erase the whisper of their last breath from her mind, cleanse her conscience of the gnawing feeling of guilt; before she could kill again. Alianna turned the knife she held in her hand slowly. The fear radiating from the man was palpable, she could kill him now; everyone in this building knew what she was competent of doing. She sighed before throwing the knife, precisely hitting the centre of the target's throat.

"I'm coming," she said with a dull tone. She heard his grunted reply as the door opened. He pushed her forward, signalling her to take the lead. Her brown eyes flitted briefly to her escort as she walked. The only noise that filled the corridor was those of his boots scuffing against the wire floor. She rolled her eyes as she moved silently through the hallways of hell towards the office of the boss. She found the building eerily quiet. Even though her fellow members were not the ones to make commotion, they were never quiet and right now it was quiet as the dead.

She frowned as she saw some of the members as they passed her. Many were bloodied and bruised; some even had freshly sewed stitches of long cuts and stabs on their faces and arms. Their clothes were torn and many covered in blood. What has been going on? This was one of the reasons she hated being gone for so long, she was left in the dark about the mafia's operations.

The unmistakable smell of burning flesh filled the air as she approached the pit or common area. Her eyes widened in surprised as she saw bodies of fellow members on the floor. More than half of their ranks were wiped out. What happened? A grunt and a resulting push snapped her back to reality and pushed her annoyance over the edge. She drew her knife without hesitation from her pocket and aimed it his throat. Her eyes flashed angrily at his unreadable ones.

"Don't," she growled lowly. The man nodded and they continued in silence.

~

Marino looked up as the door to his office opened to reveal his most valued weapon. The fifty year old mafia boss had been impressed with Alianna's skills when he saw her at the mafia training school he founded. Even though she was the youngest student ever to pass through their doors and the only female to successfully complete the programme, she was the best and the perfect assassin.

He watched as she stood in front of his desk. To an untrained eye, one would mistake her movements for grace and poise instead of carefully calculated movements and positioning. She was in the perfect location to kill his men and him with either the letter opener or the paper weight that were within reach, if the need arose. But she would not attempt it; penalties of previous tries and constant reminders served to ensure that. He mentally nodded in approval, she exactly what he needed her to be.

"How was Russia?" he asked with offhand curiosity. Alianna mentally scoffed, he never had interest in anything but her jobs.

"Successfully finished," she replied emotionlessly. She noticed that most of his guard were missing; just two out of six remained. The rest were probably there within the sea of the dead.

"Good," Marino's gloved hand placed a file in front of her. She picked it up and opened the cover to see the name of her next victim.

"Jax Boveri," Marino stated observing Alianna's face. She had matured since her last job. He could see the tell-tale signs of remorse reflected in her eyes. He knew a girl like Alianna would eventually reach her limit; more than one hundred deaths have occurred by her hand since he bought her. He did not care, she was his to control. Any feelings that she could not stamp out, he would, literally. "Boss of the Boveri family located in New York City," he leaned back in the leather chair.

"What did he do?" Alianna enquired. This Jax had to be the reason for most of their family being wiped out. She was impressed, to be honest, destroying a family of trained killers was quite a feat.

"Is the carnage you saw not a suitable answer?" Marino replied.

"When do I leave?" their conversations always went like this, more questions than answers. And it grated on Alianna's nerves.

"In an hour," she huffed before taking the file and exiting the office. The air was filled with smoke, punctured with the cries of widowed mob wives. She was never so happy to leave this place.

~

Jax Boveri leaned against the railing as his dark brown eyes watched his men clear out the warehouse. Many had been injured but no one died when they seized the warehouse from Marino. He had freed the women Marino held captive there and was now taking the goods for his own profit. He knew what he did was inconceivable by the unsaid rules of mafia life but with his Russian supplier dead by Marino's hand, he deemed his actions just.

"You know he's going to have your blood for this," Jax turned his head to see Evan, his second in command standing next to him. He was happy that Evan had survived the battle; he could not stand to see any of the family members hurt, worse yet, dead.

"I know," Jax stretched, straightening to his complete six foot stature. The dress shirt he was wearing showed off the muscles he gained from years of training. He ran a hand through his black hair. He had crossed a huge line and he had to prepare for the penalties.

"How do you think Marino will strike back?" Evan watched his boss. Boss didn't even begin to cover the relationship he and Jax shared; brother was a more fitting title despite the absence of a blood relation.

Jax knew Marino and his capabilities, however, Marino was notoriously known for striking his enemies with the unexpected.

"I don't know."