★★Mariella's POV★★



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The cold wind rushes past as I sit in my penthouse, the dim glow of my computer screen illuminating my face. I take a slow sip of my tea, feeling the warmth contrast with the chill of the city creeping through the windows. The world outside is quiet, peaceful even, but that's never lasted long for me.

The sudden vibration of my phone cuts through the silence. It's a call from Eliseo, my hacker. I can already feel the tension in my muscles as I swipe to answer.

"Eliseo?" I ask, my voice smooth but with a hint of anticipation. Eliseo doesn't waste time.

Eliseo's voice crackles through the speaker, his tone serious. "This guy is, uh, a super wealthy CEO. His company is, like, totally a front for a bunch of shady stuff, but they've been covering their tracks really well. His partners? Yeah, they're just as bad—big-time power players with all the right connections to keep themselves squeaky clean. We've been, uh, running some deep dives on their activities, and, well... all the data points straight to them. It's honestly kinda insane how deep this goes."

He pauses for a moment, then adds with a cold edge in his voice, "These guys are untouchable by the law."

My grip on the phone tightens, the anger boiling up inside me like a fire.

Untouchable you say? I guess we'll find out.

These are the people I was born to kill, the kind of monsters who make the world darker and more dangerous.

"Send me the location, stat," I say, not even a pause in my words. There's no question here. I'm already planning how this is going to end for them.

I hang up without waiting for a response. I don't need to. I know what I need to do.

I move swiftly, making my way to my walk-in closet. To anyone else, it's just an ordinary space—rows of designer heels, dresses perfectly arranged, a vanity lined with expensive lipsticks. But appearances are deceiving. My fingers glide over the edge of a shelf, pressing against an almost imperceptible groove. A soft click.

Beneath the false bottom of my lipstick drawer lies my true collection—sleek, deadly, and meticulously organized. My hands work with practiced precision as I retrieve my weapons. First, I slip on my gloves, the dark leather molding perfectly to my fingers. They're essential—not just for grip, but for protection. Every blade I carry is coated in botulinum toxin, a single cut enough to drop a man in seconds. I'm always careful, but precautions are key. The gloves also serve another purpose—they conceal the faint, telltale marks of a life lived in blood.

The all-black elastic jumpsuit hugs my curvy form, providing me with the flexibility I need to move quickly, to strike with deadly efficiency. The fabric feels like a second skin as I work, strapping the knives carefully to my body. Each blade is coated in poison, the deadly poison that ensures the job is done quietly and swiftly.

I secure one knife to my thigh, the handle snug and easily reachable. Another goes into the inner lining of my boots, hidden but ready. A third slips behind my ear, hidden beneath my dark hair, for when I need it most. My fingers move carefully with each placement, knowing that the slightest mistake could ruin the entire plan. These knives aren't just tools—they're instruments of death, each one designed to be lethal in seconds.

Next, I grab my gun and holster, strapping it firmly to my other thigh. The weight feels right, solid. I run my fingers over the smooth metal, reassured that it's ready for anything. My hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, the strands slick and smooth. One last piece—a small, thin needle, hidden among the strands, sticking out just enough to be a quick and deadly surprise if I need it.

Finally, I reach for the small vial hanging from a delicate chain around my neck. The antidote. I can't afford mistakes, so I keep it close—just in case. With one last glance in the mirror, I step back. Everything in place. Time to get this pretty little hands dirty.

I slip into the driver's seat of my all-black Chevrolet Corvette C7, the red leather cold under my fingertips.

The engine hums to life with a satisfying growl as I turn the key. I can feel the power beneath me, a beast ready to tear through the streets. The sound of the engine rumbling fills the air, vibrating through the seat and into my bones. It's the sound of purpose.

As I adjust the rearview mirror, the car's screen flickers on, and Eliseo's message flashes across it with a pinpoint location. Coordinates. No words, just the location I need. It's already marked—no need for a second guess.

Without hesitation, I hit the gas. The car surges forward, the tires screeching for a split second before finding grip on the pavement. The engine roars as I push it harder, faster, as if I could outrun the thoughts of what's about to happen.

The city is a blur around me, but I don't care. I'm focused on one thing: getting there. And when I do, there won't be anyone left to stand in my way.

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*Ahhh, there goes my first chapter! If you guys made it this far, I really hope you liked it—or not, and that's totally fine too. I'm going to make the fight scene extra juicy for you all.

*What did you guys think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Oh, and by the way, just a heads-up—some chapters will be much longer or shorter than others, so keep that in mind. :)

*Anyway, if you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to let me know. I don't want anyone feeling lost at any point in the story!

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡