EDITED
Davina Romano is quite an exquisite woman. Being one of the most famous assassins in the underworld, she made her name by being absolutely ruthless in any way possible. She's been taught to be absolutely closed off, and to show little emotio...
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-mentions of blood- D A V I N A Edited
Growing up in the mafia, you're taught how to be absolutely emotionless and ruthless. If you show an ounce of emotion, you're labelled as a "pushover."
I grew up like this, it doesn't bother me as much as it did when I was 5.
Many people don't know that I'm the ghost.
The only way Lorenzo knew, was because of my Father's big mouth.
After my first kill, word went around about the ghosts' scary torture tactics. And, once you get a sniff of power, it's hard to stop. It's like an addiction; An addiction you don't want to stop.
I grab a pair of pliers, and twirl them around in my hand. "P-Please." Alexei whimpered, his body tied to the chair. I clip the pliers onto one of his fingernails, and cock an eyebrow. "You gonna talk?" I ask, slowly adding more pressure to the knife that was stuck into his leg.
"P-Please, I have a wife and kids." He sobs, as if that would stop me.
"And yet, you still came on to me. No?" My sadistic smile showing through. His eyes fall onto the pliers, then back up to me. His entire body visibly shaking, and I smirk at his reaction.
"I-I'm sorry." And with that, I pull out his finger nail, painfully slow.
His screams of horror are like music to my ears. Blood slowly drips from his finger, practically shooting out. He screams even louder when he looks at his bare finger, tears streaming down his face.
"Shut up, you're not a fucking baby." I nearly growl, taping his mouth shut with duct tape.
"I'll give you one more chance, are you going to talk or no?" He doesn't do anything as I ask, so I roll my eyes and walk out of the glass room.
"Are you not going to kill him?" Lorenzo asks, eyeing the man tied up.
"No, he doesn't deserve a quick death. I'll ask him the same thing, tomorrow." He nods in agreement, and we walk up the stairs in sync.
"Did he say anything?" My Father asks, as he reads the newspaper in his hands.
"No." I grunt, sitting across from him.
"Hm, Nikolai has good men, I suppose." My Father sighs, refocusing on the paper in his hand.
