Reina Carlo moved like a shadow through the quiet streets, her hand brushing against the cold steel of the knife strapped to her thigh. She wasn't just on a mission; this was personal. She didn't remember the face of her mother or the warmth of a father's embrace. All she remembered was the Stingers-their discipline, their ruthless training, their unspoken code. They'd taken her in, raised her, and molded her into a weapon. To her, they were the closest thing to a family. And family was everything. But one man had dared to strip away her last shred of innocence. He thought he could take from her and vanish into the shadows, but Reina was the shadows now. The Stingers had taught her many things: patience, precision, how to read a man's fear before delivering the final blow. Tonight, she would use every lesson, every scar they'd given her. Her grip tightened. She whispered his name under her breath, a curse and a promise all in one. By sunrise someday, he wouldn't just pay. He'd be erased. Every kill left a mark on her soul, though she pretended not to feel it. Reina told herself it was a fair trade: the world got rid of another monster, and she earned enough to survive another day. She didn't care for redemption or forgiveness-those things belonged to someone who hadn't been shattered like glass. She was just a tool now, a blade for hire, slicing through the darkness one job at a time. But the nightmares never stopped. Faces she didn't recognize, voices she couldn't place, fragments of a life stolen from her. They whispered of a family-a real one, somewhere out there. She tried to bury the thought, but it clawed its way back into her mind, gnawing at her when she was most vulnerable. If they were alive, why hadn't they come for her? Had they abandoned her, or did they think she was already dead? Reina let herself believe they didn't matter anymore. She had the Stingers, and she had herself. That was enough. Or so she told herself every time she cleaned blood from her hands and tried to sleep. But deep down, she knew the truth: forgetting them wasn't the same as letting them go. --- Reina Carlo didn't believe in love, not anymore. But power? Power was something she could trust. It could bend the world to her will and, maybe, help her piece together the broken fragments of her life. Marco Alessandro was everything she needed-and everything she despised. A man of unshakable control, feared and respected by everyone who spoke his name. His empire was built on ruthlessness, yet there was something magnetic about him, a quiet storm beneath the surface that drew her in. The contract between them was clear: a marriage of convenience. She would stand by his side, adding to his power, while he gave her access to the resources she needed to carry out her revenge and find the family she thought she'd lost. But nothing about Marco was simple. He saw through her sharp edges and deflections, pushing past her defenses in ways no one else had dared. Reina told herself it was a game, part of the plan, yet each shared glance and unspoken moment felt dangerously real. Would love complicate her mission, or would it become her greatest weapon? And when the time came to choose-between vengeance, her newfound family, and the remnants of her past-would she risk losing everything? The line between ally and adversary was razor-thin, and in this deadly game of power and loyalty, only one thing was certain: Reina Carlo never played to lose.
Chapter 1 AN ASSASSIN.
~Reina~
Being a rich ass 20 year-old gang leader was not on my bucket list but I freaking love it. The smell of blood, people's cries that sounded like music to me made me happy.
I never had a family that brought me up to be 'normal'. My family was made with the Stingers.
I became their weapon, their shield, their ruthless enforcer. Killing was my trade, my survival. Money was the only currency I recognized. My parents? A blur, a distant echo. The lonely, scared child I once was is a ghost. The Stingers were my family, crime my inheritance.
I'd grown up in a world where violence was as commonplace as breathing. The scent of blood was familiar, the rhythm of gunfire a lullaby. My childhood was a blur of shadows, punctuated by the harsh commands of my superiors. I learned to suppress emotions, to replace empathy with indifference. The world was a chessboard, and human life was merely pawns to be sacrificed.
Now, as they circled the house, I stepped into the lion's den. Each guard that fell was a victory, a coin in my growing empire. The adrenaline coursed through my veins, a potent and intoxicating elixir. There was a cold satisfaction in the efficiency of my actions, a perverse sense of accomplishment. I was a predator, and this was my hunt.
"Happy family, huh? Pathetic." My words made some flinch their way to face me while other just faced me.
I circled the table, a predator stalking its prey. My hand snaked into the waistband of my black cargos, emerging with the cold steel of my pistol. A quick glance at my blood-splattered reflection in the glass confirmed the chaos I'd wrought. Their fear was palpable, a sweet scent amidst the metallic tang of iron.
The sound of a loud fired gun echoed throughout the room. I smiled as I saw the woman who I suppose was the mom going down, her body stiff. She was gone. I placed the gun on his head making him close his eyes shut ready to meet with the devil. Tears flowed down his cheek like a running waterfall.
"patetico"I spat.
(Pathetic)
I squatted to his level, lowering the gun.
"Don't cry you little fagot. You'll soon be reunited with your wife and children." He looked at me confused because his kids were alive.
Bang! Bang!
Each bullet for each child dropping them dead. I always hated the Mafia. They think they are superior but I just made this fucking Dick bag Italian mafia dump cry.
"You crazy godforsaken bitch, you'll pay with your blood." He said like some chaotic deranged bastard.
"First of all, I'm no bitch, I'm a fucking assassin. Secondly," I responded while opening his mouth "I pay with the blood of others not mine" and with that, I cocked the gun, realizing the bullet down his throat. I peeled his blood off my face and licked it. I could feel his gagging on my gun in fear before I pulled the trigger.
Bunch of freaks.
Their hands, entwined in death, were a macabre tableau of love's fragility. A pathetic display of vulnerability. Such weakness was a foreign concept to me. Love was a luxury, a distraction that could blind even the sharpest mind. I'd traded emotions for efficiency, heart for cold calculation. No one would ever hold me captive with such a foolish thing.
Love is just a stupid mistake made by many ignorant souls.
Dipping my hands in my pocket, I removed my phone and dial a number. "
"è fatto, vengo per i miei soldi"
[It's done. I'm coming for my money]
The pistol slid into the waistband of my trousers, a cold comfort against my skin. I pulled on my coat, a futile attempt to shield myself from the chilling reality that had just unfolded. The house was a macabre tableau, a silent testament to the violence I'd unleashed. My men, once a formidable force, were now mere echoes in the empty rooms. Their lives, extinguished with careless abandon, haunted the silence.
A cold dread seeped into my bones as I realized the implications of my actions. Innocent people, caught in the crossfire of a war that was no longer a game. The weight of their deaths pressed down on me, a crushing burden. I was no longer just a survivor. I was a destroyer. And the world, it seemed, was closing in.
I didn't care.
They were all just distraction. I knew they wouldn't be able to make it. I hopped onto my motorbike and speed off. The first rule of being a stinger was to get ready for death. They deserved it for being so clueless, untactful and bunches of fools. I had to no heart. I killed without mercy and I love it cause that what has kept me till this time.
I arrived at and saw Mr. Luciano waiting for me with a suitcase. Money. I packed off the road and went to meet him. As I approached him, two guards popped up from nowhere to kill him.
Playing smart with me, hell no.
"Do you want them injured, dead or unconscious" I shouted to his hearing but he stood still with a bug grin across his face. I wasn't scared, I was angry and going to kill here and here. I didn't care who the fuck he was. He just got me at gunpoint but he doesn't remember, does he?
I'm the fucking gunpoint. Ha!
Immediately, I pulled out my gun and shot one of his guards in the chest. I was opened and that made me obtain a bullet to my thigh. I fell to the ground grunting in pain and leaned behind a burnt bus. I could hear him approaching slowly to finish the job I laid flat on the ground and saw his leg.
Bingo.
I shot his leg making him drop to the ground releasing his gun. I dragged myself to him and smiled.
"ci vediamo all'inferno, puttana" and I shot the bullet right through his skull.
[See you in hell, bitch]
Mr. Luciano looked stared me with wide open eyes. I knew those were his best. Attempting to run away, I shot a bullet I'm sure affected his spine, making him paralyze instantly. I got closer to him and whispered in his ear, "no one double crosses me and lives" I smiled and killed him. I picked my suitcase and took his car. Putting my bike in the boot, I headed to the road to meet my family, 'the stingers.'
I turned the radio up and Sza's kill bill was playing. My favourite. I sang along and smiled as the wind blew my curly hair. I've always thought what normal was. I'll be a poor, broken, looked down on orphan if I didn't choose this life.
This life wasn't awesome but it bought me a family and happiness, I think. I arrived home, to my family with blood on my thigh. They received me quickly and took me to the bed where the doctor cake over and blood drip was set up. Though the blood ran through my veins, I was losing blood more than I was gaining. Soon enough, I fell asleep.