The Damned
{The De Luca Crime Syndicate}
This is a story about survival.
He has "Questa Cosa Nostra" tattooed on his chest while she has "Жизнь за жизнь."
This thing of ours VS A life for a life.
La Cosa Nostra VS the Bratva
She is running from her...
Please listen to the song above, it is a perfect description of Natasha; she is a little broken, a little dysfunctional but a good person.
At the start of every chapter, there will be a snippet of Nandini's past from the beginning.
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Her exhaustion hit her the moment she began climbing the polished marble steps of the sweeping grand staircase. A month of hunting down Mexican Mobsters. Every time she saw the scar on her neck, or touched it, or felt her clothes brush against it, a tremor of pain went through her. Her scar throbbed under her fingertips. She collected scars, making up for the sins she had committed in her lifetime. So far, she had slashes against her neck, her hands were covered in scars during her training and her eyebrow was split too many times now. Her nose was now slightly crooked from being broken one or twice.
Despite being an assassin and always wearing black, Natasha was always a class. Classy and bougie. She could kill a man in heels and it wouldn't even matter. This mission ended with a club scene and thus, Natasha had been donned in the latest couture by Versace. A red off-the-shoulder dress with a corset waist and a thigh slit. She had on a single pearl necklace with a few rings that made her punches painful. Her hair was slicked down her back and she had on matching make up. Now, as she graced those stairs, it didn't matter that her whole side was covered in blood. Some had dried but the rest dripped in her wake.
The left side of her face and the top of her shoulders were covered in the blood of the two men she had just killed.
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A passing servant bowed his head, eyes averted. Everyone who worked here knew more or less who she was, and would keep her identity secret. Her initials were known by every corrupt man and woman.
Natasha Solovik Ivanshov took a ragged breath, running a hand through her hair as she passed through the main living room, her eyebrows furring at the sound of the piano and laughter. Who was awake at this hour?
She passed one of the upstairs drawing rooms, her brows rising at the sound of a pianoforte and laughing people inside. She rolled her eyes, walking towards the elevator to head to her room when someone stepped into the elegantly appointed hall.
