Anastasia Mancini; everyone in the underworld knows her name, the Fiore Mortale. After her Grandfather murdered her parents, she was raised as his personal assassin, learning to kill without so much as a second thought. People fear her, men fall on Ari sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he thinks. Everyone nods, "We'll bring Leonardo back to Italy and deal with him how we like, then we can pack up and go back home," Gabriel says.
A silence falls between us, no one wanting to speak about the near future. A future with the possibility of one of us no longer being here.
A possibility no one wants to face. A knock at the door lifts our heads, "Come in," Ari says, clearing his throat. The corners of my lips tilt up as Vincenzo opens the door, visibly cautious to be entering the room. Vincenzo nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Ari raises his eyebrows at me, "So?
I shake my head, "No," I say quietly, ignoring the pit forming in my stomach. I make my way downstairs to where my suitcase is waiting. I nod, feeling deflated after my conversation with Le Aquile Rosse.
The nickname sweetheart has changed over the last few months. It used to have a mocking lilt to it, as if Vincenzo was trying to provoke me. But now it's gentle. He says it as though he cares for me, calling me sweetheart in an affectionate way. Try Premium. Log in Sign Up. New Reading List. Report Story. Send to Friend. Promoted stories. You'll also like. Where stories live. Discover now.
