"The Hacker and the Mob Boss" ❦
Reyna Fields seems to be an ordinary girl with her thick-framed glasses, baggy clothes, hair always up in a ponytail, and her head tucked away behind a computer screen. However, no one knows she's armed with a genius...
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The first gunshot rang through my ears. It was followed by one after another. I feel most myself when I apply pressure to a trigger. A smile always taunted my lips at the realization that my hands, like magic, ended someone's life. I'm in control just how I love to be.
As I hold my gun, my heart thumps a bit faster. It almost matches the pace of the bullet piercing the air impeccably.
I lowered my gun after another shot. The lifeless look on the idiot's face pulled me in a motherly hug. The kiss on my cheek was the dripping of blood that originated from his heart.
It was exciting to watch blood drip from a body like it was finally free and escaping its prison. It was exciting to watch the lies strip from a person's face before death forces it to take the form of truth. It was exciting to see all of the darkness disappear when he died, and I'm the heroic figure that brought in the light.
"Sorry to interru-"
"But you did. What the fuck do you want?" I asked impatiently. When I raised a brow and still didn't get a response, I moved my gun away from the corpse and over to the boy, Beto. "What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want?"
"Red is h-here," he stuttered out.
"Where?" I questioned. He looked down at the floor, and it only managed to get a rise out of my annoyance. Taking the gun off of safety, I smiled at him sarcastically. "If I have to repeat myself, you will be telling that guy over there 'hello' in hell."
"In the next room," Beto whimpered out.
I noticed the way his eyes settled on the dead body. There was some sickening pity that hid within the depth of his eyes. It was disgusting. "Take care of him, and let Adriano know he was a dead-end. He didn't know shit about Viktor."
Viktor was the cause of every bit of hatred in my heart. He was the reason why vengeance was buried so deeply in my every sense. Every disastrous gunshot that was ever caused by my fingertips left behind a dream—a nightmare, whatever the fuck people call it—that it was him behind the trigger.
Beto nodded his head as I shut the door. I guided my hand up to the knot of my tie. My fingers grasped the silk fabric before I began to tug it down.
It was time to go see the prodigy.
Once I entered the neighboring door, a shift in my mood managed to bring a taunt to my lips. There she was, Red. There was a gag in her mouth. Her hands were bound behind her back, and there was a fear in her eye that was quite exciting to see.
Giovanni, one of my caporegimes, gazed over at me from the corner of the room. He held a raised brow, probably questioning how things with the deceased idiot went. That business would have to wait. Now, we had to deal with someone, Little Red.
