How to Escape an Assassin

Felix parked the car in the driveway of his home. He got out of the car and held my door open, but I remained frozen in place.

"Is there a problem, kiddo?" He asked threateningly.

The revolting sound of his voice sent shivers of disgust down my spine. My hands balled into tight fists. "What exactly do you want from me? Can't you just kill me already?"

"I'm not in the mood for your childish whining, alright? I already have a migraine. So if you don't want me to rip your parents' livers out and sell them on the black market, I suggest you shut the hell up and follow me inside, kid. I don't make empty threats. If you knew what I did to your neighbor's corpse, you wouldn't be able to sleep at night."

I began shaking in absolute dread. Felix yanked me out of the car and dragged me inside through the main entrance.

It was my first time seeing the house's front exterior in the daylight. Why did such a wicked soul live in such a beautiful place? The castle-like fortress was in the French country architectural style. It was expertly crafted of white limestone that evenly offset the cedar shake roof. Wide, asymmetrical columns jutted out ostentatiously, capped by cone-shaped roofs, giving their home the true appearance of a castle. We passed beneath a stone archway and entered through a solid, mahogany wood door.

Before I could step foot into the foyer, Felix spun around to face me. "Don't say anything to my family, or the maids, or any human being under this roof about being forced to come here, got it? You better be smiling like you won the lotto and say hi to everyone. I've made it clear what'll happen if you go against me, kid," he threatened.

He led me into the grandiose foyer which had a lofty ceiling, humongous chandelier that overlooked a divided red carpet staircase with intricate gold railing, bordering the centerpiece fountain that consisted of a large statue of a lion. A maid approached me and bowed slightly before removing my jacket and shoes.

Do they realize that I'm a hostage and not a guest?

Felix took me into the kitchen, a maid also following closely behind us. There were two people leaning over the kitchen island engaged in light conversation while snacking on fruit. The man appeared to be around my parents' age, but the girl looked a bit younger than me. The man had salt and pepper colored hair, a mature bearded face with thin lips, small eyes, and a roman nose. The girl was the spitting image of Felix. She was a pale brunette with freckles, mischievous eyes, a bony slender nose that hooked down at the end, a full upper lip with a cupid's bow, wide cheeks and a sharp chin. She was muscular and toned. Tristan did bear some resemblance to them, but the two of them could pass for identical twins.

"Hello," the girl greeted first with an amused half-smile. Her voice came out low and flat, sounding particularly smug. "You must be Milan."

I didn't say anything back. I simply stood there in silence, my entire body shaking. I was completely paralyzed by fear. Why did he bring me back here?

She scoffed, playing with a large grape before plopping it into her mouth. "I'm Vivian, thanks for asking," she said with her mouth full.

Vivian Lara, Felix's assassin sister, I remembered. My fear increased exponentially at the realization of who she was.

"I apologize about my ill-mannered wife, she's off her head really," the man said. I perceived a slight Scottish accent in his lively, inviting tone. "The name's Edwin Lara, but I just go by Ed. A friend of Felix is a friend of ours. Make yourself comfortable and give us a shout if you need anything, Milan."

In the next moment, two muddy elementary school age kids holding large water guns burst in through the kitchen screen door. They were laughing so hard that it came out as wheezing.