Better side of me

Do you know who i am?

Chapter 1:

Amara Andrea

The world can be funny at times, just like life. It can bring you laughter, joy, and a shit ton of memories. But it can also bring you fear, danger and death.

You can be brought into a world of love, happiness and pure bliss. Or you could be like me and be brought into a world of guns, greed and drugs.

I imagine other twenty year old's in college, living life, throwing parties, kissing boys without a fucking care in the world.

Not me.

Instead i'm here in this shit hole of a basement interrogating a spy sent by the Russian mafia. Useless fucks if you ask me. The Russians have always had it out for us but never had enough power to do anything about it.

Being in the mafia world does have ups and downs but once you're in, you're in for life. You become a member when you get your first kill and the only way out is death. Except if you are a family member born into the life then the choice is yours.

But I guess God really does have favourites, huh? But fuck, I won't complain, anyone in this world would fucking kill to be me, and let me tell you, people have tried. Where are they now you might ask?

Six feet under. Bones and all. RIP to those fuckers.

"Tell me where Lucien is", I say as I sit across from this pathetic excuse of a spy, with a drill and nail in my hand ready to puncture into his wrist. He sits tied up with a smirk across his dumb ugly face. A sight that would truly make you gag.

"Your boss killed someone I loved and your gonna tell me where he is, TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK LUCIEN IS HIDING", I shout as I drill a nail into his wrist. He screams in agony as I take another nail and drill it into his other hand.

"смерть раньше нелояльности" (Death before disloyalty) he shouts with poison lacing his words.

"Come on Amore, this is the twentieth one this week, he's obviously not gonna talk", My father says as he rolls his eyes towards me.

Lorenzo Andrea, the most feared leader in the mafia world. Capo of the Italian mafia, and my dearest father. He taught me how to kill, how to hunt, how to fight, how to hack, everything. He made me into the mafia worlds most feared assassin. He made me into a killing machine, something that I think he regrets.

It was indeed obvious that the spy wasn't gonna talk. Lucien had known I have been killing off his men one by one. He would have promised them anything not to talk. Every member of his that I've killed, I've carved my initials on their forehead before shipping it to Russia knowing he would see it somehow.

I take a knife out from my thigh holster and started to carve the letters AL with a little heart beside it on his head. He screamed through the pain but I thrived off it.

"Would you like me to stop, cause all you have to do is tell me where to find him. Does his loyalty really mean that much to you?" I ask him while running the back of the blade down his cheek. He continues to stare me in the eye and remain speechless.

"Well if that's how its gonna be then" I say before pulling his tongue out from his mouth. In one swift move I slice it off and throw it towards my father. "Well if he wasn't gonna talk before, he definitely won't now." I giggle as my father tries to dodge the wet thing in the air. "Send that to the Russians on ice, we wouldn't want it to dissolve now would we?" I say stroking the spy's cheek as he groans in agony.

My father nods to one of the guards outside ushering him to collect the goods. He comes in wearing gloves with a face mask on, holding a zip lock bag and tongs.