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...
Ups! Gambar ini tidak mengikuti Pedoman Konten kami. Untuk melanjutkan publikasi, hapuslah gambar ini atau unggah gambar lain.
D A V I N A
It had been a week since the ball, sadly. The marriage was going to happen in exactly 2 weeks, and I'm terrified. I never get terrified, but here we fucking are.
Apparently, some low life gang had decided to steal our stocks. I don't even know how they got past our security, but they did. Maybe there's a rat..
So here we are, prepping for this. Lorenzo and I were assigned to take care of this minor problem. "Hold up, so you want me to go to a fucking school?" I gasp, in disbelief.
They want me to go to a fucking school because one of the gang owners is a fucking senior in high school.
Fucking children.
"Lorenzo doesn't look 18, you do." Dad shrugs, making me groan.
I can't do this shit anymore. I slam my head against the cold, wooden table, and let out another groan.
"It'll be fine, mija." Santi speaks out.
That's fucking right, Santi started calling me his god damn daughter.
"Yeah, yeah." I mumble, getting up.
____________
I stare down at the outfit I have to wear for fucking school. Ew, never thought I'd ever have to say that again.
I went to public school for my whole life, I guess I needed a decent education.
I wore the most "teenager" shit I could find, along with one of Rafael's flannels on top. I'm guessing schools still give a shit about dress code or whatever. I look homeless. I combine my outfit with a pair of docmartins, and grab my school bag from a few years ago.
I wore light make up to make me look a little younger, and my hair was let down, a few waves to help properly shape my face. Now I literally look like a fucking child, yay.
I had covered my tattooed hands with make up, and took my earrings out.
Anything to look younger.
The bag I had chosen was one I found in the bottom of my closet. It was an all black draw string bag. I didn't know what to carry so I grabbed one pencil, a small binder, with one piece of paper.
I was only going to be there for a few days, maybe a week, I don't know. It depended on how long it took to manipulate the rat.
I groan as I take each step down the long stairs. I grab a whole apple, and find my way to my drivers car.
I couldn't take any of my own cars because it would look too suspicious. Can't have myself catching anyone's attention, I guess.
Not many people know how I look, which is good for business, and occasions like this one.
