Broken Promises
- Reads 56
- Votes 9
- Parts 8
MatureOngoing1h 24m
Last published Sun, Jan 23, 2022
Love
a word thrown around carelessly.
A word that has become overused. One that's lost its meaning, when all you've got to show for it is an empty pit of broken promises.
I've never been good at it. I've never wanted it. To me it was an empty word, filled with lies and hurtful memories.
That was what I told myself. That I didn't need it. That it wouldn't do me any good. Until I met him. Alec fucking Russo.
The man who single handedly dismantled my realty. But will love be enough to withstand the undeniable force of revenge?
________________________________________________
Alec and Valentina were two unconventional souls. To the looking eye, they couldn't be more different. They have nothing in common. And besides the occasional loss of control, there's nothing more they hate more then each-other. That is until the unexpected happened.
The saying opposites attract, goes without saying when it comes to these two. But what'll happen when the the secrets they hold can no longer live in the past? What happens when they're forced to become allies? Can revenge really build the bridge that leads to love? Or will their secrets dismantle what they've built?
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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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