The Hitman's Guide to Housecleaning

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My mother named me Tomislav, and my father was a Bokšić. After my first week in the US, I’d become Tom Boksic. Which then led to Toxic.

The thing I am today.

I often wonder if it was me who poisoned my name or the name that poisoned me. Either way, I bring danger. At least, that’s what Munita says. My darling explosive, she’s addicted to danger. Munita was living in Peru until her family got killed in a terrorist bombing. Then she moved to New York and found a job on Wall Street. It so happened that her first day of work was 9/11. On our first trip to Croatia together, she witnessed two killings. I have to admit that one of them was by my own hand, but the other one was totally accidental. I thought it was quite a romantic scene, actually. We were having dinner in Mirko’s restaurant when the guy sitting at the table next to us got a bullet through his brain. Some of his blood splattered into Munita’s glass of wine. I didn’t tell her. She was having red anyway.

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