ᴇᴍɪʟɪᴀɴᴏ (𝟷𝟾+)

ᴠɪɪ. ᴄᴏɴғʟɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

"No one will ever kill me, they wouldn't dare."
— Carmine Galante

☾☾☾

The day I inherited this throne, I'd already made a name for myself. I was my father's best soldier, and it wasn't because I was the the heir. No, it was because I was willing to do anything—to kill anyone—in the name of the Marchetti empire. It wasn't just my hands that were covered in blood... it was my entire body. I was, and still am, ruthless, unforgiving and downright sinister. Many have said that I lack the capability of feeling at all, that a man like me will only ever know emptiness and never feel whole.

I was nine when I acquired my first kill. 

I cocked that gun and pulled the trigger, ending the life of a traitor, a close family friend. You'd think that at such a young age I'd be traumatized, but the truth is, I'd never felt more liberated than I did in that very moment. The adrenaline that coursed through my body as I watched his head jolt backwards, witnessed the blood and brain splatter on the wall, was intoxicating. 

And I quickly became addicted to that feeling.

I desperately craved that high, longed to taste the tang of my enemy's blood on my tongue. 

The Devil was born that day, and he only grew more and more wicked and vile with every life he claimed. Men cowered in fear, ran for the hills with their tails tucked between their legs at the mere mention of 'Il Diavolo'.

Yet, she'd never even heard of me?

I won't deny that my ego had been wounded at first. I'd never come across a woman that had to ask what my name was, simply because they already knew. Call me arrogant, if you must, but the billionaire bachelor reputation that I display to the public eye precedes me well, reeling in girl after thirsty girl.

Initially, I was under the impression that she was just playing hard to get—and boy, do I love the chase. But upon hearing her story I realized that she'd been flying so far under the radar, had been so focused on her mission, that she truly was completely oblivious to who I am.

After deciding to stay for breakfast, Sienna and Serenity whipped up a meal big enough to feed twelve. We had offered to assist with the cooking, seeing as the amount of food that needed to be prepared was substantial, but both women quickly shot us down. Something told me that they weren't keen on asking for help in any aspect of their lives, so when Sienna threw me that death glare after I insisted that they let me help, I accepted defeat and took a seat at the table, earning a knowing smirk from Luciano.

I guess he's accustomed to their refusals.

Once we had all sat down—six of us taking up the table while the other six sat at the kitchen island—we dug in. The two of them alone managed to make pancakes, eggs, bacon and toast in the matter of thirty minutes and fuck did it taste amazing. We took that opportunity to get to know each other, since we'd be working together to get to Sokolov.