“She’s so young,” she had overheard an unknown woman in a flowing red dress whisper to a well-known actor as she’d walked up the carpeted staircase behind them. “I can’t believe Simon would be foolish enough to name her CEO. I mean, just look at her. She’s a child.”

The actor, whose name escaped her at the moment, murmured his agreement. “It’s so true,” he had begun. “She’s only, what? Twenty-eight?”

The woman had nodded.

“Not old enough to run a company the size of Jupiter Tech.” The actor downed the rest of his champagne and switched his empty glass with a full one from a passing waiter. “However,” he’d continued, taking another sip, “her father knows her better than any of us. He must know she’s ready, even if we can’t see it.” He winked at Scarlet, just noticing her presence next to them.

The woman, who had not seen her, had pursed her lips in displeasure but said no more.

Scarlet had continued ascending, determined not to let the woman get to her, though it was a fruitless effort since there were many more hushed discussions throughout the whole party.

She was relieved when Julie came and told her it was finally time for her father’s speech.

Ushered to the stage that had been set up at the junction where each winding staircase met, Scarlet took her place behind and slightly to the right of the podium, next to a cute redheaded representative of the O’Cleary Cancer Foundation, while her father approached the podium. Though he tried very hard to hide it, Scarlet could tell he was in pain.

“My dear friends, it is my absolute pleasure to welcome you here this evening, and I want to thank you for your generous donations in the name of furthering cancer research and helping to erase this disease. Unfortunately, Mr. O’Cleary could not join us, but he sends his sincerest thanks for your donations and wishes he could have been with us tonight.

“As many of you have speculated, we have gathered here this evening not only to join together in a just and honorable cause, but to make an announcement, as well. I see no point in beating around the bush, so here it goes. Effective Monday, I am retiring as CEO of Jupiter Technologies, and my daughter Scarlet will take the reins,” Simon declared to the crowd as Scarlet stepped forward, taking her place beside him at the podium.

The crowd immediately erupted into a frenzy as the rumor was confirmed. As previously discussed, they were keeping her father’s diagnosis completely private. They did not want the company to seem weak or vulnerable during the transition to new leadership, and after everything, they had decided her father needed his privacy while he dealt with his illness.

“I have every confidence in her,” Simon continued as the noise dimmed. “She will be excellent, and I am proud to be able to give her this opportunity to not only challenge herself but the company to reach greater heights and do things the world has never seen before.

“And now, back to the party! Again, I want to thank you all for your patronage to such a great cause and for your attention and patience as I deviated just a bit from our main goal.”

Scarlet felt her face grow hot under the stares and whispered conversations as she and her father were escorted off the podium. The crowd clapped politely, and Scarlet could barely hold it together under everyone’s scrutiny. Now that the rumor had been proven as fact, the judgment began full force, despite people smiling and congratulating her on her new position.

All of a sudden, a shot went off right next to her. People screamed and scattered. She had no idea what had happened as she and her father were grabbed and pulled out the back.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw more security swarm the front of the building. The frantic shouting of the other patrons was the only clue she had about what had happened.

Shadow had arrived from London the week before the gala, all his plans in his head and a burner phone in his hand. Other than observation, he was ready for his big job, but he had one stop to make first: Little Italy in Lower Manhattan.

He headed to a small butcher’s shop run by a boisterous Italian man who, true to fashion, was named Salvador and was one of Shadow’s oldest friends.

A little bell chimed over the door as he walked in, and he heard a familiar voice from the back, “Just a minute!”

“Sal, are you too busy playing with your meat to come say hello to an old friend?” Shadow called back, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Somewhere in the back, there was a large crash and a man who could have only been Sal came out of the back, cursing, “You son of a bitch.” His thick Italian accent came out as he walked around the display to hug Shadow. “You couldn’t have called to say you were going to be in town, huh? And you almost gave a poor old man a heart attack.”

“Oh, come now, you’re not old yet, Sal. A little rounder than I remember, but certainly not old,” Shadow teased.

“I know, I know. I got fat.” He sighed, placing his hands on his round stomach. “But it’s all Lorena’s fault. She cooks enough to feed the whole neighborhood. Which, now that I think about it, you should stay for dinner. She would love to see you.”

“And I her. But unfortunately, this is not a social visit. I’m here on a job, and I need a little… assistance.”

Sal’s eyes lit up at the words. “Anything for a friend. But,” Sal said, his voice becoming stern as he wagged his finger at Shadow, “you must stay for dinner. You know Lorena would never forgive us if you were in town and didn’t go to see her. Now, what do you need?”

“I need a sniper rifle. This is an important job, so I need your best. Don’t hold out on me,” Shadow detailed. Bringing weapons across the pond was doable, but Shadow preferred not to have the extra scrutiny that weapons invariably brought. He preferred to make contacts with reputable arms dealers and rely on a bartering system when traveling far from the United Kingdom.

“I think I have just what you need…” Sal winked at him then went into the back.

Shadow knew he kept all his secrets in a hidden wall, including his vast array of impressive weapons. Sal was a master arms dealer, but to the outside world, he was just a simple butcher. Whether you wanted a gun or a prime cut of steak, Sal was your man.

As Shadow waited, he walked around the store, looking at the various cuts of meat, his mind wandering to the first time he had ever met Sal fourteen years before.

He had been on his very first solo mission. Alone in New York, he had barely been eighteen, and terrified. Taking pity on the young boy’s inexperience and seeing his potential, Reaper had given him a call and directed him to the butcher shop. Back then, Sal had been a much more impressive figure. Tall and tan with bulging muscles and a fierce expression, he had looked like someone straight out of the Italian mafia.

Shadow thought back, remembering how silently Sal had been standing there, sizing up the scrawny teen who had wandered into his shop, claiming to have been sent by a friend.

“I don’t know any friends of yours, kid. Beat it before you get hurt,” he had said, staring him down.

“Th-the Reaper sent me,” Shadow had stammered, and Sal had raised his eyebrows.

“Reaper sent some snot-nosed punk into my shop? He just wants me to get arrested, doesn’t he?”

“Um, well, he said you could help me?” Shadow had said.