Angela Della Morte

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷~𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚄𝚙

Donatella POV:

The sun hadn’t even touched the marble of my windowsill when I heard the obnoxious pounding at my door. Not knocking. Pounding. As if the idiot on the other side was trying to break it down instead of just—God forbid—waiting patiently like a civilized human being.

"Open up, princess. Dimitri’s got a job for us," Amir's voice cut through the morning haze like a buzzsaw, laced with that signature smugness that made me want to hurl something sharp and expensive at his head.

I groaned, rolling over in my king-sized bed, the silk sheets tangling around my legs. The walls of my room were still cloaked in the dark blue hues of early morning, though the soft glow of motion-triggered lights blinked on under the hidden compartments as my feet touched the cold stone floor.

"Five seconds, Acardi. Or I’m picking the lock again," Amir warned.

I stretched my arms up, spine cracking, then stood with a yawn. "You pick my lock one more time and I’m gluing your fingers to your goddamn forehead."

True to my word, I took my sweet time. I padded barefoot across my room—larger than most city apartments—stepping past the mahogany bookcase that slid open if I pressed the correct roman numeral, revealing a hidden stash of passports, diamonds, and two machine pistols that cost more than most people’s cars. I bypassed it for now. If I was going to be dragged into some stupid death mission, I might as well brush my teeth first.

By the time I opened the door, Amir was slumped against the frame, arms crossed, chewing gum like he was paid for it. His dark curls were tousled, shirt wrinkled, and belt only half buckled. Basically, typical Amir.

"You took forty-three minutes."

"You're lucky I didn’t take forty-four."

He sighed dramatically and pushed off the doorframe. "You know, most people would be grateful to be handpicked by Dimitri for a high-level op. But nope. You? You’re a damn gremlin in Gucci slides."

I rolled my eyes and shoved past him. "First of all, these are Prada. Second, Dimitri can kiss my ass unless this ‘mission’ comes with at least six zeroes. And a private jet."

Amir scoffed, falling into step beside me. "It’s always the money with you."

"Because we’re not the Avengers, dumbass. We don’t work for free. If someone wants help, they better be wiring a fat-ass bag to my offshore account."

We walked together down the stone hallway, high ceilings casting our shadows over velvet drapes and oil paintings probably worth more than some kingdoms. The estate was massive—ancient meets modern. Hidden doors, panic rooms, bulletproof windows, and enough security systems to shame Fort Knox. It was Dimitri’s pride and joy. I just lived in it like a glorified raccoon.

Amir kept talking as we entered the briefing room. "Apparently the Koreans are losing their shit. Some Greek crew’s been jacking their firearms in open water—like, high-profile shipments. Military grade. And get this, the Greeks left a message on one of the stolen crates: ‘Try harder, Seoul.’"

I burst into laughter and flopped into one of the leather chairs. "That's so petty. I kind of respect it."

"Of course you do," Amir muttered, shaking his head.

Dimitri appeared then, all tall and terrifying in that tailored black suit of his, the scar along his jaw catching the overhead light. His presence made the air feel heavier. He always looked like a man who’d slit your throat for blinking wrong—but he’d do it with a glass of whiskey in hand and not spill a drop.

"You’re late," he said without looking at me.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," I replied sweetly, kicking my feet up on the polished conference table.

Amir looked like he was debating between laughing or flinching. Dimitri didn’t bat an eye.

"Your target is the Agrios Syndicate—Greek Mafia. They’ve been intercepting shipments between Seoul and Marseille. Koreans are breathing down our necks, and I don’t like the pressure. I want it handled. Swiftly. Quietly. Publicly, if you get the chance."

I leaned forward slowly. "Translation: they want us to kill them, make it a spectacle, and still not get caught."

"Exactly."

"Love that for us," Amir muttered, rubbing his face.

Dimitri slid a folder across the table. I grabbed it before Amir could, flipping it open lazily.

"How much are we getting?" I asked immediately, ignoring the entire briefing inside.

"A million each. Half upfront. Half when it’s done," Dimitri replied.

I whistled low. "Now you’re speaking my damn language."

Amir grinned. "Bet you’re fully awake now."

I smirked and tossed the folder back onto the table. "Where do we start?"

Dimitri pointed to a map. "My intel says their next heist is scheduled off the coast of Croatia. They’ll be using an old fishing vessel registered to a fake company. You’ll intercept it. Take back the cargo. Leave no survivors."

"Not even one? What if he’s cute?" I teased.

Dimitri gave me a look that could curdle milk.

Amir snorted. "You’re such a menace."

"And yet, here I am. Your partner. Again."

I stood and stretched, cracking my neck and putting my mask on. "Alright. Gear up, Morte Nero. Let’s go make some poor bastards wish they were never born."

Amir grinned wide and grabbed his duffel and his mask. "Hell yeah. Angela Della Morte and Morte Nera back in business."

"And this time," I said, walking toward the armory, "let’s not blow up the entire pier. Dimitri was a bitch about that for weeks."

"Hey, that explosion was art—"

"It was your stupidity wrapped in C4."

"And you’re allergic to fun."

"Keep talking and I’m putting laxatives in your protein powder."

Amir groaned as he followed me down the corridor. "You are genuinely the worst person I’ve ever met."

"And you love me for it."

The mission had begun. And the world would soon remember exactly why Angela Della Morte and Morte Nera were the names whispered in fear by criminals across continents.

Let the carnage begin.

This is my first chapter and I’m so excited. I want to take a moment to thank all of you who have shown your support and taken the time to read my words. It means more than I can express!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!