How to Hide a Body (doppio x killer!gn!reader)

14- excuses, excuses...

OH GOD IT WASNT A BLUFF- "(y/n)? im sorry, i know not of who you speak of, bucciarati."

"i know (y/n)s eyes when i see them. theyve always had a small, barely noticable scar right below their left eye, something i picked up on a while back when you were apart of our team.

alright, i just have to remain calm and make sure i dont give away myself. ill kill off bucciarati once this damn mission is over, he's already suspicious of me, and he has evidence. "then maybe we both just so happen to have that same scar. tell me, did your friend have a large gash along their side?"

bucciaratis eyes dropped, the top of his lip curling into a snarl. "they did when i fought them for stealing from the mob during a mission."

i folded my arms, "stealing? oh my, that sounds horrible! id say i feel sorry for them, but that's a terrible thing to commit in this line of work. plus, i dont even know them."

"how would you not know yourself, (y/n)? have you really lost yourself so much that you cant even recognize your own name?"

yes, i dont think that (y/n) even exists anymore. it seems like theyre an empty shell, and that morte nascosta is who i really am. it more like (y/n) has become my disguise, and that morte is who i identify as. im nothing more than a killer, now that i think about it. someone who will be forgotten to history, but remembered in the hearts of their victims.

"bucci, i dont recognize that name because its not mine. my name is... prosecco. im prosecco nomel, and my second identity is morte. are you happy? did you get the answer you want?"

"prosecco nomel?" bucciarati repeated, raising an eyebrow as he backed away from me. "then its strange that you happen to have the same body build as (y/n), the same eyes and scar as (y/n), and the same, sorrowful, sadistic voice. i thought you were the sweetest thing, but now look at you, all corrupt and stained with the color of innocent people."

my heart dropped at his soft words, my lip trembling from the disappointed tone he gave me. i so desperately wanted to give him a hug, to cry out all my woes into his chest and beg for forgiveness, but what did i do? why would i apologize to him? ive done nothing wrong! all the people ive murdered have done horrible things in their life, just like doppio, whos an underboss for the mafia when he looks like he wouldnt hurt a fly.

yeah, what do i have to apologize for? for carrying out a dying girls wish, or for allowing myself to get beaten in the middle of the street over his misunderstanding? no, im not going to say sorry, im not going to hug him, and im sure as hell not going to forgive him. look at your creation, bucciarati. look close and look good at what you turned me into, you damn horrible excuse for a capo. look at me and weep, for the power of my hand will be stronger than the cries of your voice.

"i may be corrupt, but i dont kill innocent people. each person that has died by my hand has died for a reason. "
 ok, time to sell my act. "i remember one time, there was a person laying limp in the street, no one bothering to stop and help them or checking to see if they were well. i took the liberty upon myself and approached this person, the only way i was able to see them was through the moonlight. they were bleeding out, cuts and bruises all over their face as well as a horrifying gash in their side seamlessly opened as if it were done by a zipper."

bucciaratis eyes widened upon hearing the description of myself, giving away that my plan was working. "yes, it was quite sad." i continued. " they were laying there, muttering 'its not my fault' to themselves in a hushed whisper. i remember it clear as day, 'its not my fault, i was given a false case.'. it was clear to me that something terrible had happened to them, and that they were tortured and beaten because of it, begging for the sweet release of death. and do you know why i killed that person? the one bleeding out and crying their poor soul away?"