I didn't exactly choose to be stolen at four years old.
But the French underworld isn't big on consent.
One minute I was Donatella Acardi, Mafia royalty. The next? Just another stolen kid bleeding in someone else's basement.
That's where I met Ami...
𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢! U don't have to read all of it. Just for fun!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Age: 17 Donatella Acardi~Best assassin in the world~Angela Della Morte
Hi. I'm Donatella.
No, I don't do hugs. No, I won't smile for your stupid little photo. And no, I'm not gonna tone it down. So if you're sensitive-leave now or cry quietly.
I've been shot, stabbed, kidnapped, and thrown out of a moving car once. Still here. Still prettier than you. Still pissed.
I speak eleven languages. Yeah, eleven. Fluently. You know how hard it is to threaten someone properly in Vietnamese?
"Tao sẽ bóp cổ mày bằng tay không." Say it with love. Or don't-I don't care.
"Ты меня не пугаешь." (Russian)
"Je te tuerai les yeux ouverts." (French)
"Non farmi perdere tempo." (Italian) Translation? I'm over it. You're boring. Shut up.
I'm not the sweet twin. I'm not the forgiving one. I don't do peace talks. I don't do warnings twice. I do knives. I do silence. I do whatever it takes.
And if you're wondering how I'm still alive after all this? Baby, I'm not surviving. I'm dominating.
