Fiery Revenge⎪✓

02

☀︎

Spotting myself in the long mirror, I scan my long black dress with disinterest. My gun can't be detected even through the figure-hugging fabric, my hair is once again hiding small knives and I nod at myself before joining the extravagant party. My newly killed source informed me of Mr. Romano attending this spectacular evening and I won't miss it. This is an easy opportunity for me, hence me pulling up in an elegant dress with heels to match.

Walking through the ballroom, the buzzing of conversation runs through the air and my eyes observe every crevice of the room. Unhappy girls are serving men with hungry eyes, the discomfort on their faces irritates me slightly. These pigs in here will never leave them be. A waitress approaches me and hands me a glass of champagne. Thanking her I place it on a random table when she leaves again, a lot of people here would kill me in a heartbeat. I'm not taking any chances of being poisoned.

"Bella," A voice suddenly says to my right, the sight of a seemingly pleased man has me bothered instantly. "You are magnificent with those bright emerald eyes, mia cara."

"Grazie," I say simply and look away from him again. He doesn't leave me, and I find myself frustrated, "Can I help you with anything?"

He smiles at me and tries to grab my hand; I pull it out of his reach instantly. I'm not here to make friends or some shit, this is professional, and I won't have him here trying to worm himself onto me. "You can join me for my conversation with Mr. Romano, would you like, yes?" The offer is tempting, but I want to meet the man on my own terms.

"Where is this man then?" I question and raise an eyebrow at him.

"He is in a room of his own, only his most trusted are allowed in there. We have some business to discuss and I would enjoy having you on my arm," A plan is already forming in my mind, which is why I place my hand gently on the arm he offers with a suggestive smile. Clearly, he expects me to return some type of favor, he won't live long enough for me to return shit.

Walking up a flight of stairs, I remind myself to ask questions while he's alive. "Who is Mr. Romano to be exact?" I ask feigning stupidity and innocence.

"Only the most dangerous man walking the earth, he is completely ruthless," There is a tint of fear on his voice and I'm humored, he's linking arms with a ruthless woman at this very moment.

"How did you know where he is?" The questions are still as innocent as ever.

He taps his pocket twice with a smirk before walking into an elevator, I join him and see my opportunity, "A note was slipped into my hand when I showed up today, this party is made for Mr. Romano to meet with his clients in private."

My right hand slowly sneaks under the slit in my dress and I grab the handgun from the holster, it's already loaded, and I point it at his forehead instantly. His eyes widen in terror and he stares at me in pure shock, "What are you doing?"

"Collecting," I answer and pull the trigger, the sound reverberates through the elevator and I smirk at his lifeless body at my feet. So much for returning the favor. After grabbing the note from his pants and stepping over him, I walk into a deserted hallway leaving him in the elevator. There is barely any light in here and I scan the note, room 666. Fuck off, Mr. Romano. The dramatics are tiring and too fucking predictable.

We're on the sixth floor, my heels clank against the floor and I search for the room hiding the devil himself. I'm not sure if I know what to do when I find him but finding him will be the first of my issues. The silence up here has me questioning how many bodyguards this dude will have. Room 666 is at the end of the darkest hallway, and I walk towards it with confidence in my strides. Placing my gun in the holster again, I don't want to tip him off. This man doesn't scare me, and I don't have anything to live for either way, except for the revenge of my parents.

The aspect of death becomes less terrifying when you are born to die. Inevitability is one thing I won't fear.

I'm surprised by the lack of bodyguards in front of the door, the hallway is completely empty which seems a little unsafe for a mafia boss. Without considering the consequences of my actions, I open the piece of wood and step into the cold room instantly. The room is dark, and my eyes try to adjust in order to spot everything, there is a heavy smell of smoke and sharp liquor drafting through the air. It's only four walls, no doors and no ways of escaping. A leather couch is placed in the middle with a table in front of it, the smoke comes from a lit cigarette in the ashtray. Someone is in here.

The door suddenly closes behind me and I refuse to show my surprise, goosebumps grow on my heated skin when I hear heavy footsteps behind me. A gentle finger grazes up my arm and I hide the shiver that runs down my spine, a dark voice speaks from behind me and I'm shocked by the heavy accent, "I didn't ask for a whore, amore."

His words piss me off so much that I turn around slowly, his pure black eyes capture my own instantly. The dark hair on top of his head is perfectly disheveled and I ignore the tempting smirk on his lips. He towers over my 5'8 height with ease, making me wonder if he has passed the mark of 6'6. The five o'clock shadow suits his features and I can sense the power on him. Tilting my head to the side, I meet his eyes with a hard stare, "Not even as a whore would I degrade myself enough to fuck you, stronzo."