''Devils never die, innocents do.''
★★★
Anastasia Fernandez is a 26 year old daughter of the Sicilian Mafia Don. She is s sick psycho who has no heart and no femininity whatsoever. She is a killing machine whose hands are stained with innocent peopl...
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⚠️️Warning⚠️: mentions of self harm. If you are not comfortable please don't read. I don't support anyone who has suicidal thoughts even though I have been through that phase. To anyone having a hard life, please just be patient. You will get out of it. There is light at the end of every tunnel. You will find your light if you keep on going. I hope you all have a happy life! Let's continue. . . . .
—
Little wife?!
Wedding day?!
Three fucking hours?!
Now this brainless idiot is really crossing the waters. To kick of 'Mission Making Anastasia's Life Miserable' the fucking psycho kidnapped me, drugged me, took me to goddamn Spain, threw a white, sparkly fucking wedding dress in my face and to make it all the worst. Told me, we were getting married in three hours.
Three hours. A hundred and eighty minutes. Ten thousand and eight hundred seconds!
It seemed like he had puked all his mental instabilities into my face. And I hated him for this. I hated him for everything.
Wiping the desperate tears off of my face more like tearing the tears off of my skin, I held out the tiny blade I was able to steal while my psycho finacé went out of this room in which I was practically jailed in.
Practically.
I looked at the deadly peak of the blade that could through anything in just one go. He sure owns practical things despite being so unpractical.
Just as I was flooded with insane thoughts, I heard the door open as I quickly hid the small knife behind my back trying to act as if I had nothing.
The door opened to revealed two ladies carrying huge black leather bags and wearing red heels. What the fuck?
One the women chirped at my sight, "Oh you must be the bride! Anastasia right?"
I just rolled my eyes at them and passed them the most deadliest glare I could. I was in no mood of acting like Cinderella when she met her fairy god mother. I scoffed.
How the hell was I comparing myself to goddamn Cinderella? Looks like this marriage and wedding day and three hour shit is really getting to my heads.
The women's facial expressions completely displayed fear at my stern and deadly ones. Hahaha. Just as I like it.
"What the fuck are you two doing here? GET OUT!" I roared as my loud voice caused them to flinch at their positions.
"Mrs. Russo, Sir Alessandro sent-sent us to-to help you get ready for the wed-wedding. We both are your stylists." The other petite woman blurted.
Was he serious?
Ofcotse you stupid bitch. He was serious. He is fucking Alessandro Russo. What could you expect?
