•The Assassin Series•
"And through all the pain you caused, I still look at you as if you painted the sky." ~K.R
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Anastasia Romano is very upbeat and happy girl despite everything she has been through.
She is a lot like her mother, Alan...
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Chapter Four
His hair, tousled, lay a mess on top of his head as his thumb runs over my bottom lip, collecting the small amount of blood.
"What the fuck were you doing here?" He spits out and gently sets me on the ground, running a hand through his hair.
I look around, dazed, and notice a panting Hunter crawling out of car, its back end smashed inward. Shaking my head, I look at Easton and push him back—my ego clearly severely bruised.
"I had it handled!" My face reddens and suddenly I am grabbed from behind.
Turning around, I punch the person in the face and glare, my chest heaving. The man looks up at me in fury and spits blood out of his mouth, jumping up a moment later.
"You killed my boss!" He shouts and I groan, gripping my hair in fury.
"You're going to have to be more specific." I state calmly, yet the edge in my tone does not go unnoticed.
He stalks towards me and tries to grab me. Gripping his arm, I duck and twist it, holding it behind his back. The man struggles against my grip which only has me tightening it, my jaw clenching painfully.
"Do you know who I am?" I whisper in his ear, an angry smirk forming on my lips.
My teeth grind at his answer. "No and does it look like I fucking care?"
"Let me introduce myself then." I slowly trail my hand up my shirt, causing it to lift up a reveal a clear sheen of sweat on my toned stomach. Then, I grab my gun, turn off the safety, and press it to his temple. He freezes. "I am the Italian Mafia Princess. My name is Anastasia Romano. Now, would you like to apologize to me?"
I notice his breathing pick up and the familiar effects of a panic attack forming in his features. "Shit, I am so, so, so fucking sorry! Madam, please forgive me—"
"Sh, sh, sh . . . " I hush him and let my lips brush his cheek, a psychotic smile coating my lips. "I won't hurt you. Don't worry." He lets out a sigh of relief and I hold the gun under his chin. "What do you say?"
Glancing between Easton and Hunter, he gasps for air and shakes his head. "I-I don't k-know!"
"Thank you . . ." I mumble. "You say thank you. Come on, now thank me."
"T-Thank you—" Pulling the trigger on my gun, I stand emotionless as his body falls from my grip, my face now splattered in blood.
"Now," I sigh and clear my throat, turning to Easton. "Where were we?"
Lifting my gun up, I point it at him but he is quicker than I thought. Grabbing my wrist in a deathly grip, he twists my arm and elbows my forearm, causing me to release my grip on my gun.
