KILLER book 1

~Reina~

Being a rich ass 20 year-old gang leader was not on my bucket list but I freaking love it. The smell of blood, people's cries that sounded like music to me made me happy.

I never had a family that brought me up to be 'normal'. My family was made with the Stingers.

I became their weapon, their shield, their ruthless enforcer. Killing was my trade, my survival. Money was the only currency I recognized. My parents? A blur, a distant echo. The lonely, scared child I once was is a ghost. The Stingers were my family, crime my inheritance.

I'd grown up in a world where violence was as commonplace as breathing. The scent of blood was familiar, the rhythm of gunfire a lullaby. My childhood was a blur of shadows, punctuated by the harsh commands of my superiors. I learned to suppress emotions, to replace empathy with indifference. The world was a chessboard, and human life was merely pawns to be sacrificed.

Now, as they circled the house, I stepped into the lion's den. Each guard that fell was a victory, a coin in my growing empire. The adrenaline coursed through my veins, a potent and intoxicating elixir. There was a cold satisfaction in the efficiency of my actions, a perverse sense of accomplishment. I was a predator, and this was my hunt.

"Happy family, huh? Pathetic." My words made some flinch their way to face me while other just faced me.

I circled the table, a predator stalking its prey. My hand snaked into the waistband of my black cargos, emerging with the cold steel of my pistol. A quick glance at my blood-splattered reflection in the glass confirmed the chaos I'd wrought. Their fear was palpable, a sweet scent amidst the metallic tang of iron.

The sound of a loud fired gun echoed throughout the room. I smiled as I saw the woman who I suppose was the mom going down, her body stiff. She was gone. I placed the gun on his head making him close his eyes shut ready to meet with the devil. Tears flowed down his cheek like a running waterfall.

"patetico"I spat.

(Pathetic)

I squatted to his level, lowering the gun.

"Don't cry you little fagot. You'll soon be reunited with your wife and children." He looked at me confused because his kids were alive.

Bang! Bang!

Each bullet for each child dropping them dead. I always hated the Mafia. They think they are superior but I just made this fucking Dick bag Italian mafia dump cry.

"You crazy godforsaken bitch, you'll pay with your blood." He said like some chaotic deranged bastard.

"First of all, I'm no bitch, I'm a fucking assassin. Secondly," I responded while opening his mouth "I pay with the blood of others not mine" and with that, I cocked the gun, realizing the bullet down his throat. I peeled his blood off my face and licked it. I could feel his gagging on my gun in fear before I pulled the trigger.

Bunch of freaks.

Their hands, entwined in death, were a macabre tableau of love's fragility. A pathetic display of vulnerability. Such weakness was a foreign concept to me. Love was a luxury, a distraction that could blind even the sharpest mind. I'd traded emotions for efficiency, heart for cold calculation. No one would ever hold me captive with such a foolish thing.

Love is just a stupid mistake made by many ignorant souls.

Dipping my hands in my pocket, I removed my phone and dial a number. "

"è fatto, vengo per i miei soldi"

[It's done. I'm coming for my money]

The pistol slid into the waistband of my trousers, a cold comfort against my skin. I pulled on my coat, a futile attempt to shield myself from the chilling reality that had just unfolded. The house was a macabre tableau, a silent testament to the violence I'd unleashed. My men, once a formidable force, were now mere echoes in the empty rooms. Their lives, extinguished with careless abandon, haunted the silence.

A cold dread seeped into my bones as I realized the implications of my actions. Innocent people, caught in the crossfire of a war that was no longer a game. The weight of their deaths pressed down on me, a crushing burden. I was no longer just a survivor. I was a destroyer. And the world, it seemed, was closing in.

I didn't care.

They were all just distraction. I knew they wouldn't be able to make it. I hopped onto my motorbike and speed off. The first rule of being a stinger was to get ready for death. They deserved it for being so clueless, untactful and bunches of fools. I had to no heart. I killed without mercy and I love it cause that what has kept me till this time.

I arrived at and saw Mr. Luciano waiting for me with a suitcase. Money. I packed off the road and went to meet him. As I approached him, two guards popped up from nowhere to kill him.

Playing smart with me, hell no.

"Do you want them injured, dead or unconscious" I shouted to his hearing but he stood still with a bug grin across his face. I wasn't scared, I was angry and going to kill here and here. I didn't care who the fuck he was. He just got me at gunpoint but he doesn't remember, does he?

I'm the fucking gunpoint. Ha!

Immediately, I pulled out my gun and shot one of his guards in the chest. I was opened and that made me obtain a bullet to my thigh. I fell to the ground grunting in pain and leaned behind a burnt bus. I could hear him approaching slowly to finish the job I laid flat on the ground and saw his leg.

Bingo.

I shot his leg making him drop to the ground releasing his gun. I dragged myself to him and smiled.

"ci vediamo all'inferno, puttana" and I shot the bullet right through his skull.

[See you in hell, bitch]

Mr. Luciano looked stared me with wide open eyes. I knew those were his best. Attempting to run away, I shot a bullet I'm sure affected his spine, making him paralyze instantly. I got closer to him and whispered in his ear, "no one double crosses me and lives" I smiled and killed him. I picked my suitcase and took his car. Putting my bike in the boot, I headed to the road to meet my family, 'the stingers.'

I turned the radio up and Sza's kill bill was playing. My favourite. I sang along and smiled as the wind blew my curly hair. I've always thought what normal was. I'll be a poor, broken, looked down on orphan if I didn't choose this life.

This life wasn't awesome but it bought me a family and happiness, I think. I arrived home, to my family with blood on my thigh. They received me quickly and took me to the bed where the doctor cake over and blood drip was set up. Though the blood ran through my veins, I was losing blood more than I was gaining. Soon enough, I fell asleep.

~Reina~

I stared at her, trying to grasp her words. She was a stranger, yet there was a familiarity in her voice, a desperate warmth I couldn't ignore. Her face remained blurred, like a figure in a dream you're trying to hold on to.

'I gave birth to her...' she repeated, her voice cracking. There was raw pain in her words, and a bitterness that twisted them. 'They forced us to hand her over. If we hadn't, we'd all be dead by now.'

A chill ran down my spine. She was talking about me, wasn't she? I didn't want to believe it, but every syllable she spoke felt like another piece falling into place. I tried to speak, to ask her who she was, why she'd abandoned me to this...life. But the words caught in my throat, and all I could do was watch her fade back into the shadows of my past."

"Yes, she's our weapon now and your death. Kill them"

They shoved the knife into my hand, its cold, unforgiving weight settled into my little trembling fingers. Tears blurred my vision, but I felt their eyes on me- waiting, daring me to hesitate. I looked down at the knife, the blade gleaming, and felt a sick, twisting sensation in my stomach. My body was shaking, but the grip on my shoulder was firm, urging me forward. As my hand moved, as the blade found its mark again and again, a quiet scream built inside me, swelling with each tear shed.

I stabbed blindly, pain and shame flooding my chest, each time more desperate, each time hoping the pain would numb, but it only grew sharper. My body moved on its own, trapped between the sharp edge and the silent threat behind me. I didn't want to look at them, at their faces or their pleading eyes. I didn't want to think about who they were to me or why they have to die. I was their weapon just like they had made me so every piece of humanity left in me was torn away and lost forever.

"I jolted awake, panting, drenched in cold sweat. My heart raced, pounding against my chest as I stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off the nightmare's grip. That same horrible scene replayed every night, each time more vivid, more unbearable. I couldn't take it any more.

Pulling myself out of bed, I stumbled over to the balcony, hoping the fresh air might clear my head. But as I stepped outside, the nightmare refused to fade. The sharp smell of smoke filled the air, and distant shouts pierced the night. I froze, gripping the railing as my eyes adjusted to the dark-and then I saw them. Shadows moving swiftly, weapons drawn, figures darting between buildings.

We were under attack

Adrenaline jolted through me, erasing every trace of sleep. I glanced back inside, heart thundering, searching for any sign of help or escape. There was no time to think, no time to prepare. The nightmare wasn't just a dream any more-it was here, unfolding in the shadows right before me."

Fuck.

"I stumbled back inside, my mind racing as I scanned the room for anything I could use. My eyes fell on the pistols, gleaming dully on the table. I grabbed them, feeling the solid weight settle into my hands, one after the other. My fingers wrapped tightly around the cold metal, a strange sense of power surging through me.

All the fear and horror from the nightmare faded, replaced by something sharper, darker. I took a steadying breath, feeling the familiar rush as I stepped back out onto the balcony. The shadows were moving closer, their silhouettes cutting through the night, unaware of what awaited them.

A smile crept onto my face. I wasn't the hunted any more.

'This is going to be fun,' I whispered, raising the pistols, ready to make them regret ever coming here.

"I limped, each movement a jagged reminder of my injury, as I pressed myself against the wall behind the door. I forced myself to be still, breathing shallowly, waiting for the right moment. The shadows moved past me, oblivious to the figure lurking in the dark.

Once I was sure they'd moved on, I stepped out, raising the pistols and squeezing the triggers in quick succession. Muzzle flashes lit up the hallway, and the silence shattered, filled with the sharp crack of gunfire. Bullets tore through the air, and the only sounds were the echo of shots and the metallic rain of empty casings scattering across the floor.

My leg throbbed with each step, but I pressed forward, ignoring the pain, fueled by a grim determination. The gunshots echoed off the walls, a rhythmic, relentless beat that drowned out everything else. I was in the zone, every instinct sharpened. In this moment, nothing else mattered but survival."

"Killing Mr. Luciano hadn't been my smartest move, but he needed a lesson-one he'd never forget, even if it cost him his life. You don't double-cross an assassin and walk away unscathed. The price he paid was high, and so was the toll on anyone foolish enough to come after me.

The night was a blur of gunfire and blood, and I didn't issue a single order to fall back until every last one of Luciano's avengers was dead. Bodies lay scattered around me, reminders of the war one betrayal had sparked. By the end, the air was thick with smoke and silence, and the message was clear: betrayals don't go unanswered, not in my line of work."

"Many saw me as a ruthless leader, but I didn't care. Anyone who dared question me paid the price with their life. After the brutal war between our gang and the Mafia, I turned to find my own people staring back at me, their faces twisted with anger and resentment."

"What's going-?" My words were cut short as I found myself staring down the barrels of their guns.

"Get out," Nico demanded, his voice cold and unwavering. "Leave now, or we'll end this right here."

"Leave? Why should I?" I shot back, eyes narrowing at Nico. "I'm the reason we've made it this far. Everything we have is because of me."

"And yet, half of us died today because of you!" Nico yelled, firing a shot into the air.

I chuckled darkly as an idea formed. I wouldn't beg for something I created.

"I'll return for all of your heads," I declared, a scoff escaping my lips. "I never issue empty threats."

"We'll be ready for you, killer," he said, locking his gaze onto mine.

With a smirk, I walked away and climbed into Luciano's car, setting my course for his mansion.

It was time to step into my power as a Donna.

I held the steering hard as pictures of the stingers, my family betrayed me. They committed a grave mistake and they knew it. I would kill all of them, I'll survive without them, I always survive. I will kill them all. Once a killer, always a killer.

I arrived at the Luciano's residence and parked the car. I took out the guards, fully aware they wouldn't let me pass. With my leg still healing, each step was a challenge, but I pushed through, driven by a fierce determination.

I managed to get into the mansion with my gun tucked in my hands. The house was beautiful, literally beautiful. The exterior design was blue with tints of white. In the middle of the house was a water fountain.

As I walked through the entrance, I was confronted by a portrait of his wife, tenderly embracing their children. The warmth of that image pierced through me, igniting memories of the life I once envisioned. It was a dream that felt painfully out of reach now. I tried to push those thoughts aside, but they lingered like ghosts in my mind, haunting me with what could have been.

What the fuck.

My head throbbed painfully, and the world around me began to blur. Before I could even blink, darkness enveloped me. I collapsed, surrendering to the void.

"I woke up in an unfamiliar room, lying on a king-sized bed beneath heavy, dark sheets. My head throbbed with a dull ache, but the sharp pang of unease jolted me fully awake. Beside me, perched on the edge of the bed, was a young woman. Her chestnut hair spilled over her shoulders, framing a face with soft, doe-brown eyes, full lips, and thick brows that gave her an intense, watchful look. She couldn't have been more than in her twenties, yet something about her gaze seemed older, knowing. I jerked upright, instinctively putting some distance between us, my pulse racing."

"'Welcome back, bitch,' she announced with a smirk, each word dripping with contempt. Her tone was sharp, unapologetic, like she'd been waiting for this moment. My stomach churned. She had to be Luciano's daughter. It figured-she had the same arrogant, self-assured look in her eyes, like the world was hers to play with. Another piece of garbage from that rotten family."

"You killed my father and waltzed into my home without a shred of respect. You deserve death." She said, her voice calm but laced with venom. "I'm Marilyn by the way and get well soon because you will be nothing but a memory-just like you made my father ." her smirk deepened, every word a twisted promise

She thinks she's a psycho. It's almost laughable. Whatever darkness she thinks she has, I'm ten steps deeper. She doesn't know who she's dealing with... but she will soon enough."

I pulled a pocket knife from my trouser and held it to her neck. A flicker of fear filled her eyes and that smirk wiped away quickly. Let her see who she is dealing with.

"Princess, I don't give a damn about your name,' I sneered, keeping the blade steady on her neck, the blade's edge just enough to make her feel its threat. 'and if I want, I can kill you right here, right now. You think you can scare me? I am not one of those idiots who bow to your kind-your father's kind. I do not take orders from faggots like you. Ask him what happens to those who try to treat me like a fool.' I paused , letting the silence hit in before adding a smirk, 'oh, that's right-he's dead. My bad."

I didn't care about her, or the tears that slid down her face like a weak attempt at guilt. The reality was simple: she was nothing more than a pawn, just like her father had been. My focus wasn't on her, it never was. It was about me, about making sure I stayed on top. I needed to be the one in control, the one calling the shots. And once I was there, no one would dare to challenge me-not her, not anyone. I'd get others to do the killing for me, make them dirty their hands while I watched from above, untouched. I was done being the one who had to dirty myself for anyone's game. It would be them on the front lines next, fighting my wars for me.

Her tears didn't faze me, and neither did the sobering silence between us. I wasn't here to console her or play her little mind games-I was here to remind her of her place, and show her that in the end, I was the one who controlled everything.

"'Lead me to your mother,' I said, my voice cold, cutting through the heavy silence. 'We've got a lot to discuss.'

Her eyes widened, flickering between the knife still pressed against her neck and my unflinching gaze. I could see the fear creeping up on her, trying to fight its way through the bravado she'd been clinging to. But I wasn't interested in her fragile pride-only in getting what I needed.

She swallowed hard, her lips trembling slightly before she nodded as quickly as she could, desperate to please, desperate to comply. Her nodding was frantic now, like she thought agreeing might somehow keep her alive longer. Without a word, she turned and started to move. Her steps were sharp, hurried, the sound of her shoes tapping against the floor almost like a signal-a warning-that she was being dragged along by forces she couldn't control.

I followed close behind, my gaze never leaving her back. The way she walked, the quickness in her pace-it all screamed of someone who had lost their grip on the situation. I relished it, knowing that for all her show of strength, she was just as weak as the rest of them. She'd thought she could intimidate me, make me fear her father's legacy, but now, she was just another pawn in my game. And I was moving closer to the prize.

Every step she took toward the next room was a step closer to her breaking point. I wasn't in a rush-I never was. I'd let her sweat it out. She could take me to her mother, but it wouldn't change the fact that I was the one in charge now. And when we got to wherever the hell she thought she was going, it would be on my terms. Not hers.

She led me to the first room on the ground floor, the house sprawling around us like some kind of fortress. Each step I took felt like another piece falling into place, another marker on the road to making this house mine. The grandeur of it all didn't faze me; I wasn't here to admire their wealth or their power. I was here to claim it. And I would. Soon, this place would bend to my will.

The woman opened the door, her hands shaking just slightly as she did, as if trying to hold on to some illusion of control. But I didn't care about her fear, nor the game she was playing. I was willing to let her go-at least for now-but I would be the one who decided when the rules changed.

Inside the room sat Mr. Luciano's wife, a woman whose calm presence didn't hide the strength lurking behind her. She wasn't like her daughter, all bluster and bravado; this woman was composed, calculating. She didn't flinch as I entered, just regarded me with a quiet intensity.

'Come, sit with me,' she said, her voice soft, almost soothing, but with an underlying command that didn't escape me. She knew exactly who I was-and what I was capable of.

I stayed standing for a moment, letting the silence hang between us. She wasn't going to control me. Not here. Not now. But I didn't make any immediate moves. I wanted to see how far she'd push. I was the one holding the power now, and it was time to remind her of that."

I let go of her daughter earning a punch in the face. I scoffed and wiped the blood off my busted lips and chuckled like the devil. I punched her back making her bust her lips and earning swollen cheek.

I grabbed her by her dress and was ready to punch her again.

"'Please stop,' she begged, her voice trembling, cracking as the words escaped her. 'She's my life. My princess.'

Her plea stopped me in my tracks, but only for a moment. I could hear the desperation in her voice, the weight of her words sinking in like a cold knife. For a brief second, I almost saw her as human-her vulnerability, her love for her daughter, everything that had once made her strong seemed to be crumbling before me. She was on the verge of tears, her face contorted in agony as she struggled to hold it together.

But I wasn't moved by her tears. I couldn't be. I was beyond that. I had learned a long time ago that people like her-people who thought they could manipulate through emotion-were nothing more than tools. She wasn't my concern. The game had changed, and there was no going back.

I took a deep breath, the silence between us thick with tension. I leaned in close, just inches from her face, my voice low and chilling. 'Your daughter is weak. She's nothing more than a pawn. And you, you're just like her.'

I could see the raw fear in her eyes now, the realization that her life, her daughter's life-everything she had fought for-was slipping through her fingers. She was powerless. She was scared. And in that moment, I felt nothing but a twisted satisfaction. She had tried to play me, but I was the one pulling the strings now. I wasn't going to stop until I had it all."

"Finally, now can we talk or else" I used my hands acting as a blade to cut myself.

"'First of all,' I said, my voice steady, cold as ice, 'your husband double-crossed me. And never, ever double-cross an assassin.' I let those words linger, knowing the weight of them. The silence stretched as I watched her try to process the reality she was facing. 'You'll pay for that. With your life.'

I smiled, almost savouring the look of fear that flashed across her face. It was the first sign of real emotion I'd seen from her, and it was a sign I was winning. I shifted in my seat, adjusting my position with deliberate ease, as though I were in full control of the situation. The power was mine now, and she needed to understand that.

'From now on,' I continued, my voice dropping lower, more commanding, 'I own the Luciano business. I'm the Donna here, and you'll obey me. Or you'll pay the consequences.'

Her breath caught, her eyes widening, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she realized what that meant. Everything she thought she controlled-the empire, her position, her life-it was slipping from her fingers. But I wasn't offering her a choice. I wasn't asking for her submission. I was demanding it."

She didn't seem rattled, not in the slightest. The calm in her demeanour only made the tension thicker, like she'd already considered this move, knew what I was capable of, and was prepared to play her cards. Her eyes locked onto mine, steady and calculating, as if the truth had already settled in for her.

'The only way for that to happen,' she said, her voice unwavering, 'is for me to adopt you and sign everything under your name. It would take about three days.'

Her words were matter-of-fact, almost cold. She wasn't pleading or bargaining; instead, she was offering me a route to victory. She understood, just like I did, that this was no longer about negotiation. It was about survival. But what she didn't realize was that this gesture wasn't going to save her. It was simply her surrender wrapped in paperwork.

I studied her for a long moment, considering her words. Three days. A small price to pay for everything she had built. But it was more than that-it was her way of buying time. She thought she could hand over the reins and maintain some control, but she didn't see the trap closing in around her.

I leaned forward, the smile on my lips tight, almost mocking. 'Three days? How quaint,' I mused. 'You really think that's how long you have? You think I'm giving you a chance to set things right?' I paused, letting the weight of my words hang in the air. 'Once I sign those papers, you'll be irrelevant. Just like your husband.'

The quiet that followed was heavy with unspoken understanding. She might've thought she was still playing, but I knew better. The moment she made the offer, she was already conceding. I was the one in charge. And in three days, everything that mattered would be mine, including her life."

"Whatever it takes," I said, standing up, my eyes cold and unwavering. "And don't try me, or your daughter will pay."

I moved closer, making sure she understood the gravity of my words. I never gave empty threats-my actions spoke louder than anything I could say. If she pushed me, her daughter would suffer the consequences. There was no escaping that truth.

"There's something else," she announced, her voice steady but carrying a hint of urgency. The words sliced through the tension, and instantly, my attention snapped to her. My fingers loosened from the door knob, and I turned to face her fully, every sense alert.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my tone sharp, demanding an answer.

"Go on," I said, sitting down, my eyes narrowing as I braced myself for whatever she was about to reveal. There was a flicker of something in her expression-maybe fear, maybe something more-but I was ready. I wasn't about to let her hold the upper hand.

She took a deep breath, gathering herself before continuing, "I'm not the only one who wants to control this house."

"When you take control of this house, you won't be the donna," she said, her voice trembling but defiant. "I'm..."

She paused, clearly calculating her next words, as if testing whether she should continue or fall silent. The tension in the room thickened, but I wasn't moved.

"I'm what?" I pressed, leaning forward, my patience already running dry and I wasn't about to waste any more time on her games.

I leaned forward, every inch of me oozing threat. "Either you tell me what I want to know, or I'll make you regret it."

"What in fucks name are you talking about? Lie and you die I always sense lies, trust me. Now talk" I ordered.

~Reina~

I stared at her, my gaze cutting deep, searching for the truth buried beneath her façade. I wasn't like others. I was taught to manipulate, to lie, to get what I wanted-no matter the cost. Killing was just a tool, a means to an end.

I leaned in closer, my voice cold. "Tell me who's really in charge. Or you won't like the consequences."

She signed, a long, heavy breath escaping her lips as she leaned back, as if the weight of this revelation was something she had carried for too long. There was a shift in her demeanour now-less pride and more resignation.

"The Mafia family works in a different way than you have in your brain," she said, her voice tinged with both frustration and exhaustion. "My husband, Luciano, was not the head. Or should I say... he was not the Don of the Mafia."

The words hung in the air, heavy and loaded with implications. I could see the realization in her eyes-this wasn't just a simple power struggle. There was more to the story, something deeper, something that Luciano's role had hidden from everyone, maybe even from her. She exhaled sharply, a little puff of air escaping from her lips, as if she were finally letting go of a truth she had held onto for too long.

I felt the room grow colder, the silence thickening around us as I processed what she had just said. Luciano wasn't the true head? That meant there was someone, something else controlling the strings, pulling the weight behind the family. And I wasn't sure whether to be intrigued or angry.

"Who was?" I asked, my voice quieter now, the tension rising like a storm. "If Luciano wasn't the Don, then who held that power? Who's been calling the shots all along?"

Her gaze flickered away for a moment, as if she were deciding just how much to reveal. But I could see the tension building in her-she was torn between protecting the secrets of her family and the brutal reality that, with the right leverage, I could take control of it all. Her hesitation spoke volumes.

"Don't try to protect him," I added, my voice firm, almost a warning. "If you know who was really in charge, tell me. This could work out a lot better for you if we're on the same page."

She took a moment, her eyes gleaming with pride, as if she were revealing something monumental. The tension in the room seemed to tighten, her words slowly sinking into my mind.

"We are the third family in the Mafia," she began, her voice smooth, almost calculated. "Which means there is a head, Marco Leonard. He would be crowned Don during the ball, and he would have full control of the Mafia."

The weight of her words hit me all at once. The ball wasn't just some high-society event-it was a coronation. A shift of power. The Mafia wasn't a game to these people; it was a kingdom, and this Marco Leonard was about to sit at the top of it. I could feel a ripple of something, something dark and heavy, as the pieces clicked into place.

"No one can defeat him," she chuckled softly, her voice dripping with a mix of reverence and arrogance. She was proud of him, of the power he was about to wield. "And I want my daughter to marry him."

Her words hung in the air, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of them. She was offering her daughter as a pawn, an alliance to solidify their standing, to cement their future in the Mafia's hierarchy. The smug pride on her face only made the offer more sinister.

I leaned back, processing everything she'd just told me. Marco Leonard wasn't just some leader-he was the linchpin, the person who could control everything. And I wasn't sure whether to be irritated or impressed by the way she spoke of him like he was untouchable.

"You think Marco is invincible?" I said, my voice laced with amusement, yet carrying an edge. "And your daughter's marriage to him will make everything secure, huh?"

I studied her, seeing the calculation behind her smile. She truly believed that joining forces with this man, through marriage, would solidify her family's place. But what she didn't realize was that Marco Leonard wasn't the only one with ambitions.

"How sure are you that Marco will accept your offer?" I asked, curiosity piquing, my tone casual but laced with a promise of danger. "And how sure are you that he's the one who will truly lead the Mafia when the time comes?"

I could feel the control slipping into place, everything aligning as it should. But then, her words, unexpected and cryptic, caught my attention.

She mentioned a ball-a damn ball.

"What freaking ball and what is the ball about?" I asked, my voice no longer as cold, but laced with genuine curiosity. It was a shift, subtle but telling. She had piqued my interest now. Whatever game she was trying to play, it wasn't over yet.

I leaned forward slightly, the tension in the air shifting. If this was some kind of last-ditch effort to divert my attention or make me hesitate, it wouldn't work. But there was something about this ball, the way she said it, that made me wonder. What was it really about? And why was she bringing it up now, in the middle of all this?

Her gaze held steady as if waiting for me to bite, to take the bait. I was ready to be enlightened, but I wasn't letting my guard down. Not yet.

The silence hung between us for a moment longer, but I wasn't the one to break it. I had learned long ago that sometimes the most valuable information came from waiting-watching, listening. This ball, whatever it was, could be more important than she realized.

"Explain," I said, my tone a mix of impatience and curiosity, still weighing the power I held.

There was something about Luciano wife, Leonara that was wrong. She seemed relaxed about her husband's death. She didn't even mourn or try to attack me like most people would.

She was different. Why?

"The ball is a yearly organized event hosted by various Mafia families. In the event, many mafia families met and make deals to prolong the affairs of their business. The don is also announced that very day." She said, sipped a little water and continued," the don would have all authority and many would try to make him fall."

"Marco Leornard huh? When is the ball happening?" I asked curiously.

"In a next month. It would be held in Mafia main hall." She answered without stuttering.

"Don't get your daughter to fall in love with a dead man. I'll make sure I kill him; I have to be Donna." I said proudly with a wide grin plastered across my face.

"Call you lawyer and finalize it by tomorrow." I said and banged the door behind me.

The truth is, I never craved the spotlight or the power that comes with it. My intentions were far more personal. I wanted nothing more than to inflict pain on the Stingers for the way they shattered my world. They had always painted this picture of an unbreakable family bond, a sanctuary I could retreat to in times of turmoil.

But when my life imploded, they vanished without a trace, leaving me to pick up the pieces alone.

Betrayal cuts deep, and in my wounded state, I made a reckless decision. Desperate for revenge, I aligned myself with their most formidable enemies, the Mafia. It was a path paved with darkness, but in that moment, it felt like the only way to find solace and retribution.

I wasn't enough.

I scoffed, shaking off the intrusive thoughts. It was time to find a place to sleep. Wandering through the house aimlessly, I flung open the first door I came across. The room was a stark contrast of black and white, a jarring pattern painted across the walls.

Black, like my soul.

Oh, I'm going to love it here. I closed the door behind me and trailed round the room. I opened the drawer and a folder caught my attention.

Divorce papers?

Only Leonara Luciano had signed it. No wonder she didn't say a word to me or try to kill me because I killed her husband. I laid on the bed exhausted as hell and I thought who are my real parents and why did they dump me. When the stingers told me they found me in a ditch near the dumpster, I really hated my parents but most especially, myself. Maybe if I wasn't born, they wouldn't have to make such grave mistake. I was a like mistake to time.

No, I'm a living mistake.

I shut my eyes, allowing myself to drift into the darkness until I heard a bang with both fists on the door.

"This is my room, get another!" Leonara screamed from the other side. I hissed loudly and didn't say a word. The banging continued and after a while, it seized.

That was when I fell asleep.

I woke up surprised I didn't wake up at night by the nightmare that haunted me every fucking night. Groaning, I dragged my tired ass butt to the bathroom. The bathroom looked like a room could fit in it. I used all the hair and body scrub product. After what seemed like 3 hours being in there, I came out.

I couldn't wear my fit cause it had blood stains on it. I opened the drawer and saw a pair of brown up and down joggers. There was no need to curl my hairs because it was always curled. Letting it fall to my back, I looked in the mirror and smile. I headed downstairs to find new set of guards, maids and a strange man sitting beside Leonara. They both stared at me like I was the missing puzzle in their conversation. Damn yes, I was.

I was ushered in by Leonara who introduced the man as Reno, Luciano's and her lawyer. A quick smile appeared on my face which I quickly erased.

"Let's get this over with" she said and signed, " I want her to be in charge of everything I have." The way she said everything sounded familiar but oh well I've stayed in this house to be well acquainted with her voice. The man stared at me shocked. His hazel eyes wide open as his pupils dilate. I smiled and didn't blink as I stared at him. I could sense fear but he tried his best to keep his fear locked away.

I feed on fear.

"Are you sure you want her? She's a bitch and a murderer." He said trying hard to whisper.

"How many times do I fucking have to say this? I'm an assassin not a bitch." I slammed my palm against the desk.

He pulled out the documents and handed it to be. I read every word and signed the papers and so did Leonara.

"It's good to be home" I smiled while the rest just stared at me.

"I'm your big sister, so you'll have to respect me." Marilyn stared at me with a wide grin on her face.

"But I can kill you or..." her grin disappeared and her doe eyes widen, "I can just torture you till you die."

She told few steps away from me and clung to her mom and hard as she could.

"Now that I am head of this family, I'll have to seduce Marco during the ball, get what I want and kill him." I announced my perfect plan.

"But mom, I'm going to marry him. We are going to be engaged during the ball." A loud devilish chuckle escaped my throat, making everyone stare blankly at me.

"Sweetheart, he is mine, back off" and I made my way out of the meeting hall.

I stormed off to the room and shut the door tightly. I decided to plan what to say and how to act but that means I needed the help of that little bitch. Around what seemed like 11pm, I left out of my room and headed for that faggot's room. The door was slightly opened and I could hear light moans. I peeped and saw her fucking Mr. Right hand man.

I pretended to video it and walked into the room with the phone still on them.

"If you don't want this to leak, I suggest you help me get what I want and in turn, I spare you the shame.