𝐶𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑂𝑓 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑒 | ✔︎ |

[10.] I'll Kill You.

{{DAMARA ROMANO}}

"You know Damara. You are clever." The deep voice rendered. I can't see who it is with the bag over my face. But like I manifested it the bag came off my face.

Carl fucking wright

"Why did you kill them? All those people? You threw a bomb into a crowd of innocent people." CaRl mumbled.

"It was uh... social experiment..?" I smiled nervously.

Let's backtrack a little bit.
Last night.

I walked upstairs after our talk and got myself ready for bed. And by that I mean I was going to go to a sorta illegal fighting club. It's been something I've done since I've gotten to this hell hole. And being trapped in a house with Vi kinda gets annoying when he's constantly hitting on me. Yet he won't do anything about it. Back together he story.

As I was fighting I caught a glimpse of someone who shouldn't have been there. So I kinda killed a guy. I went back home and got into bed. Then after I fell asleep someone grabbed me and threw me out the window. And here we are.

"Very funny Damara." He scoffed sitting in a chair backwards in front of me. "Why did you really do it? Out of spite? Pain? Pleasure?" He smirked.

"You know, why does everyone think I'm into shit like that? They all think I get off to killing people. It's annoying." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm assuming you're the assassin who took down and murdered the entire Russian mafia?" He tilted his head.

"No I'm the grinch who stole fucking Christmas, what do you think detective dumbass." I rolled my eyes.

"You really do have many personalities don't ya? You've lived a lot of lives Damara Romano. What makes you think this one's remotely different?" He scoffed.

"Aww" I pouted. "Is someone still salty I made them a faulty promise." I smirked. "Trust me on this... if you let me go, I'll talk to the hot piece of ass you call you're wife and convince her that you've changed. Even though, tying me up and placing me in an abandoned warehouse, really proves nothing has." I smirked.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked crossing his arms.

"Because I've murdered thousands of people, who wouldn't trust me." I winked.

"Damara, you're out of your damn mind." He scoffed yet again.

"At least my name isn't Carl." I chuckled.

"What would you're godfather think about this? Would his princess finally fall?" He taunted.

"He has better things to do." I sighed dramatically. "Carl I'm getting kinda annoyed with us meeting like this. You do this once every what? Two, three years?" I squinted. "I'm I the only thing that brings you joy." I threw my head back and laughed.

"I've had enough of you. We'll carry this conversation on in about an hour. I have things to do." He got up and left me alone in a room.

Rule number one: don't leave an assassin alone in a room tied to a wooden chair.

Rule number two: check the assassins pockets before you tie them up. They might have a hidden weapon.

"This one's gonna hurt." I mumbled to myself before taking a deep breath.

I tipped myself forward a little bit before snapping back and breaking the chair. I groaned out and coughed before wiggling my way out of the rope. I stood up and noticed a nice gash on my leg. That's gonna need stitches.

I grabbed the .45 from the waistband of my sweats and smiled. Never leave without a gun. I kicked open the door and four guards snapped towards me. I dodged every punch but one hit the better of me. I shot them down but didn't kill them. Carl walked down the hallway and without a weapon.

"Just like old times captain." I tucked the gun back in my waistband and cracked my knuckles.

"You'll leave over my dead body." He grinned satanically. Fucking weirdo.

And they call me crazy? This bitch literally has crazy eyes. He also wears fucking sweater vests. WHO THE FUCK WILLINGLY WEARS SWEATER VESTS?!

"Remember ten minutes ago when you asked if I found pleasure in killing?" I tilted my head. He nodded and I smirked widely. "I'll find so much pleasure in killing you." He walked towards me cracking his neck. He's a big guy I must admit, but I've killed bigger.

He grabbed me by the arm and threw me into the wall. I hit a stereo and do I wanna know by arctic monkeys started playing.

"How did you know this was my favorite fighting song? It's also my favorite sex song but that's not the point." I threw a punch at him and he blocked it... with his face.

He stood up straight and I smiled. The lights went out and like on Q this gave me all the time I needed. When they flickered back on he looked around only to see air. I came down and wrapped my legs around his neck. I twisted myself around and pulled us both to the ground. He caught me off guard and pinned me under him punching me seven times before I shot him. Three in the face, four in the abdomen and stomach. He didn't see me reach for my gun. I peeled him off me and stood up holding my side.

That's gonna leave a mark.

I pulled myself up the stairs and walked out of the small warehouse. I hot wired a car and drove myself home without passing out due to blood loss. I'm pleasantly surprised and proud of that. It's four in the fucking morning. I went to bed at one. This took way to much of my time up.

Now does everyone understand why I'm called a monster? A nightmare? Angelo della battaglia? That's what I thought.

Blood filled my mouth as I entered the house. Vittorio was on his phone walking past the foyer. I spit the blood on the floor before staring blankly at him. His eyes widened and I fell. Before I hit the cold floor two arms grasped me.

"What the fuck happened, princess." I heard

And then I slipped into sweet sweet darkness.