Story cover for The phychopath princess by JDJCIISJANBDKC
The phychopath princess
  • WpView
    LECTURES 86,839
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,559
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 15
  • WpHistory
    Durée 46m
  • WpView
    LECTURES 86,839
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,559
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 15
  • WpHistory
    Durée 46m
Terminé, Publié initialement févr. 18, 2021
Contenu pour adultes
Trigger warning

She slits peoples throats  and loves the feeling. After all red was her favourite colour.

Teluma was raised to be a weapon, a killing machine for the Russian Mafia. But then she escapes kills them all blah blah blah. What happens when she discovers she's the long lost princess of the Italian Mafia?
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Pain comes in many forms. Heartbreak, headaches, broken bones, and that quiet, soul-splitting kind that doesn't leave bruises. But the kind of pain I've witnessed goes beyond all that. Have you ever heard a man scream, really scream, as he's being beaten and his fingers broken one by one? I have. And as twisted as it might sound, in that moment, it felt... satisfying. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a psychopath. These people, they deserve it. In a world full of monsters, someone has to be worse. Someone has to be the shadow in the corner, the final judgment behind a red-drenched smile. That someone is me. Reanne Anderson. Twenty-four. Assassin for the Anderson family. Secret hacker behind their impenetrable systems but to most, I'm the Red Lady. I respect boundaries until someone crosses mine. Then I become a storm in heels, or combat boots, or whatever the hell I'm wearing that day. And then there's him. Lorenzo Russo. Twenty-eight. Newly crowned Don of the Russo family after his father was butchered by the Russian mafia. Lost his mother in the same bloodbath. He's cold, calculated and ruthless. He looks at people like he's already decided whether they're useful or dead. He's got the eyes of a man who's seen too much, felt too little, and trusts no one. Our paths were never supposed to cross. But war doesn't care about plans. He needed someone who could crack into encrypted systems. He needed a ghost. He got me. But sometimes, even in the darkest corners of the world, two dark souls might just bleed for each other.
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Pain comes in many forms. Heartbreak, headaches, broken bones, and that quiet, soul-splitting kind that doesn't leave bruises. But the kind of pain I've witnessed goes beyond all that. Have you ever heard a man scream, really scream, as he's being beaten and his fingers broken one by one? I have. And as twisted as it might sound, in that moment, it felt... satisfying. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a psychopath. These people, they deserve it. In a world full of monsters, someone has to be worse. Someone has to be the shadow in the corner, the final judgment behind a red-drenched smile. That someone is me. Reanne Anderson. Twenty-four. Assassin for the Anderson family. Secret hacker behind their impenetrable systems but to most, I'm the Red Lady. I respect boundaries until someone crosses mine. Then I become a storm in heels, or combat boots, or whatever the hell I'm wearing that day. And then there's him. Lorenzo Russo. Twenty-eight. Newly crowned Don of the Russo family after his father was butchered by the Russian mafia. Lost his mother in the same bloodbath. He's cold, calculated and ruthless. He looks at people like he's already decided whether they're useful or dead. He's got the eyes of a man who's seen too much, felt too little, and trusts no one. Our paths were never supposed to cross. But war doesn't care about plans. He needed someone who could crack into encrypted systems. He needed a ghost. He got me. But sometimes, even in the darkest corners of the world, two dark souls might just bleed for each other.