American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 188 A Team of 20

Beta and Ashley followed Carolina into the office, where the dim light from the wall lamps bathed the room in an amber hue.

Katalia sat in a Victorian armchair with an intricately carved back. She arched her slender back, one bare foot resting on the gold-embroidered seat, the arch of her foot forming a graceful curve.

Her fingers danced among the ribbons of her ballet shoes, her pink nails contrasting against the white satin.

Hearing the sound of the door hinges turning, she looked up, a few strands of hair slipping from behind her ears and swaying gently beside her cheeks.

When she saw who it was, she immediately stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt with both hands.

The silk fabric swayed with her movements, and the pearl brooch on her chest shimmered slightly in the light.

Beta's gaze slowly lingered on her, from her loose hair to her taut toes, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes: "Why are you dressed like this?"

Carolina said, "She wanted to try it on again."

The smoke rose as he spoke: "Although she will never become a proper ballet dancer."

Katalia's fingertips gently traced the embroidery on the hem of her skirt, the iris patterns outlined in gold thread undulating slightly beneath her fingertips: "I just want to try this dress on again."

Her voice softened: "This is what the 'female director' kept; it's the one I wore before I left here."

Beta admired her still slender figure: "Not bad, you've maintained your figure very well. You can still fit into this dress; it must have been something you wore when you were fifteen or sixteen."

Katalia slightly lifted her foot; the satin ballet shoe was slightly deformed from being squeezed, and the fabric at the toe was stretched and shiny: "The shoe doesn't fit anymore."

Her toes curled uncomfortably inside the shoe: "It's too small, it's too tight."

The light shone on her taut instep.

Carolina glanced at Ashley, then said to Katalia, "Change out of it. You can take it back if you like. We have important business to attend to now."

Katalia nodded and replied, "Yes, 'Director'." She then strode towards the dressing room, the door clicking softly.

Beta and Ashley sat together on a Louis XV-style sofa, the velvet fabric slightly sagged beneath them.

Carolina sat back in the office chair from the time of Napoleon III, the brass legs scraping against the marble floor.

“Twenty people.” She opened a leather ledger. “This is my biggest concession. The male-to-female ratio?”

Beta looked at Ashley; these kinds of decisions needed to be discussed and agreed upon together.

Ashley said, "15 men and 5 women."

Beta pondered for a moment, then nodded and said, "That's how it'll be arranged, Grandmother."

"You brat!" Carolina slammed her hand on the ashtray. "Calling me 'grandmother' won't help."

Beta asked with a smile, "Even if I'm your grandson, it's not allowed?"

Carolina said, "Just like I always say."

“Rules are rules,” Beta replied, raising his hands in surrender. “So, the specific amount?”

Carolina said slowly, "Those who leave here are all top-tier assassins. Although many eventually die outside, those who survive have the chance to become legends. So..."

At this moment, Katalia changed back into her own clothes and came out, carrying a bag containing ballet dresses.

She sat down on Beta's other side, placed the bag on the ground, and glanced at Beta discreetly, her eyes carrying a meaningful hint—clearly related to tonight, a man and a woman, and this ballet tutu. Carolina continued, "So, 200,000 per person. This isn't a buyout fee, but a six-month commission, which needs to be renewed every six months."

Beta calmly brushed away Katalia's fingers that were secretly tickling his waist and said, "Grandmother, what I want is someone I can completely control."

Carolina paused for a moment, then finally said, "50 per person."

Beta nodded: "Deal."
-
Beta led Ashley and Katalia out of the theater, the neon lights of New York casting long shadows of the three of them.

The mute woman was leaning against the black Mercedes-Benz, her hands casually in her coat pockets, a wisp of smoke rising from the thin cigarette between her lips.

Upon seeing the three men emerge, the mute man deftly stubbed out his cigarette with the tip of his shoe and opened the car door.

Beta bent down and got into the car, Ashley following closely behind, sitting next to Beta in the back. Katalia got into the passenger seat, casually placing the paper bag containing her ballet tutu at her feet.

The mute man sat in the driver's seat, and the engine started with a low rumble.

She glanced through the rearview mirror, the cigarette glowing between her fingers: "How's it going, boss?"

Beta's gaze drifted to the night view outside the window: "Twenty men, you'll lead them. They're all professionally trained, but lack real combat experience. You need to make them completely obedient to your commands."

The mute man tapped his fingertips lightly on the steering wheel: "These are minor issues."

Beta's gaze remained fixed on the neon lights flashing outside the window: "They will become a force completely independent of the Antonio family. When I officially take over the family, this team will be responsible for eliminating all opponents, as well as those who try to cause me trouble."

"Therefore, this matter is only known to a few of us. These 20 people will not know who the real boss is, nor will they know who they are working for."

The mute man nodded: "I understand."

Katalia's hand gently groped inside the paper bag: "I found this."

When she pulled her hand out from the folded ballet tutu, a folding knife lay in her palm.

The red and white paint on the blade was almost completely peeled off, revealing the dark metallic base underneath. The spring mechanism had clearly lost its elasticity, and the whole knife was quite old.

Beta's thumb traced the faint engravings on the hilt of the knife: "You actually found this?"

The laughter was tinged with disbelief and nostalgia: "Carolina even keeps such a little trinket?"

Katarina's eyelashes fluttered slightly: "Carolina has kept all of our things. From training clothes to report cards, everything."

Beta tapped the blade lightly with her knuckles: "She's still so meticulous."

Ashley's gaze fell on the rusty folding knife, and she asked softly, "What's this?"

Beta's fingertips traced the blade: "This is a birthday present I gave to Katalia. I gave it to her this morning, and she used it to stab someone this afternoon."

“You know, not everyone in the theater follows the rules. That day, three bastards cornered Katalia in the women's restroom, trying to do something to her.”

"She used this little knife to kill three bastards who were plotting something."

"Of course, she paid the price herself. Her right index and middle fingers were twisted off, although they were reattached."

Beta put away the knife: "She was locked up for a month, only given bread and water each day. This punishment is already lenient because of me. Otherwise, according to the theater's rules, out-of-control weapons would be discarded immediately."

"And being eliminated is often worse than death."

(End of this chapter)