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SILVANO
People always think death is loud but they're wrong. it's quite and thrilling to watch as fear kicks in, their eyes widen, body shook, falling to their kneels and begging for mercy while watching the light leave their eyes, laying lifeless in a pool of their own blood. Sitted on a chair opposite my victim in most the expensive and notoriously known club for the powerful and wealthy. I watch him silently thinking of the different things I'm going to enjoy doing to him, I have been deprived of that feeling for a while now. He is being entertained by two strippers on both of his side without knowing his life is about to be cut short in the next few hours. He takes a break and stands up to use the restroom, I rise after him and make my way towards his direction. I stand in front of the sink acting like I was also there to relieve myself. Bulking in, I walk behind him and whisper in his ears “ Your blood will look good splatted on my knife" I raise my head to look him straight in the eyes through the mirror right in front of us and I grin wickedly. His eyes widens and my grin widen even more before turning into a sinister laughter, he shivers. “Who the hell do are you? Do you know who I am? I will have you killed” he rushes to say clearly frightened by my muscular and tattooed body but trying to act tough and less intimidated by me but I could perceive the fear coming from him and I close my eyes briefly breathing it in, “Fanculo” Fuck. I mouthed in delight. Normally I go straight into killing my victim but I felt like playing around with this one “ Ever heard of the name Silenzio?” I say with the same wicked grin. His knees buckle and drop to the ground. The media and police call me silenzio, while the others just call Silenzio. I'm a serial killer and I work for the country's most notorious and dangerous dark Italian organization known as The obsidian Syndicate. I work in the organization merely to quench my blood thirst after the unfortunate incident that occurred in my life which has scarred me and turned me brutal, I was given several therapy sessions but none ever worked to bring me back to the man I used to be before the incident. I kill mercilessly and brutally which can never be traced. No one knows my real face except those in the organization and it's how l like to run things. People fear my name knowing the only thing that surrounds me is darkness. Bringing my mind back to reality, I stare emotionlessly as he pleads for his worthless life after betraying the organization. I have been given the job of silencing him, as he has become a nuisance, forgetting his place. Fools never know when to stop and simply enjoy what has been given to them—always greedy for more. My job is to do the dirty work, to remind them of their place… or rather, to drain the blood from their bodies. I flip the silver knife in my hand, watching his body shiver. “Give me another chance, I’ll right the wrong,” he pleads on his knees, already knowing who I work for and exactly why I am here. I walk towards him slowly with a wicked grin, watching him desperately back toward the door. He suddenly stands and makes a run for it. “ How he knows I love playing hide and seek" I whisper silently to myself. I know every in and out of the club. I walk slowly to the door and turn to the opposite direction he runs to. I raise my hand holding the knife and run it along the walls. I turn in a different direction and take the elevator to the lower level. I know he's running for the exit and towards where his car is parked, a very stupid move. I reach him before his hands could reach the car door and blocked his way, no one was around to save him and there's no camera around since the club owner did it to protect the identity of those coming to his club. I slammed his head on the bonnet of the car twice hard, I laugh menacingly and said “You should have taken to the warning given to you" he shakes his head and says " I'm sick of being their lap dog and taking all their orders” then he went ahead to laugh, “ What was fuckin funny" I thought inside. I opened the car door and placed his fingers on it before jamming the doors on it multiple times. He screamed so loud I winced and I was so delighted inside, “ That's the kind of sounds I love to listen to, they sound like music” I tell him. “Now let's begin the real fun, you have to entertain me or I'll make your death even more devastating" I whisper in his ears before letting him fall to the ground. I walk to the other side of the car and pull the door open, placing my hands under the seat, I pull out the documents kept underneath it. I walk back to him and drag him up so set can set his eyes on the documents. Placing his hands on the car, I draw out my knife and stab it into each of his hands and hear him scream. I took pleasure in it. Taking the blooded knife, I placed it next to his left ear and whispered “You didn't listen to the warnings right, then you have no use for this". I go ahead to cut off his ear slowly like I was cutting through hard meat. He screamed and fainted. Bored with playing with him, I stabbed him right where his heart was and made sure he wasn't breathing again before I stuffed his body in the car. Reaching into my pocket I take out a black rose and place it on the dashboard of the car and quietly leave the packing lot. I head back to my house sitting in the heart of the city, I go to the kitchen, open the fridge and grab a bottle of vodka and a glass. I walk towards the tall glass window overlooking the city, my mind couldn't help but drift to the past when dad would come back from work, grab his coat and mom would happily ask him about his day while offering him a glass of water. Her smile always brightens the house and gives it a warm home feeling while dad continuously teases her. I drown my feelings with the vodka and mutter “ soon mother, Soon father" I say in a dangerous tone with sadness hidden in my eyes. I turn and drop the glass. I walk towards my room and into the bathroom turning on the shower, I grab my shirt and pull it over my head, flexing my muscles and watching each of the tattoos plastered all over my body, each of them telling a story. I step out of the shower after I am done, I grab my phone and lie on the bed checking through my emails. I emailed the organization back informing them the job was done. I thought back to the documents I brought out from Romano's car, the man I killed a few hours ago. They were the documents he gathered against the organization and ensured that I kept them safe with me. Morning comes uninvited. Sunlight spills through the window, cutting across my face. I groan, turning away from it, clinging to the last fragments of sleep. I lie still for a few minutes… until my phone chimes. With a quiet curse, I finally push myself up and reach for it. Another email from the organization. I don’t open it cause I already know what it is. Another mission. Another name. Another life to erase. I run a hand through my hair and head for the shower, not ready to face the world just yet. Not like this. Because right now… I’m not sure I can keep the darkness in check. And if I don’t—Someone’s going to pay for it. I walk over to the round dining table, a towel hanging loosely around my waist, the faint outline of my V-line disappearing beneath the fabric. Grabbing a glass, I pour some water and bring it to my lips, taking a slow sip. With my free hand, I pick up my phone and open a file in my email sent by the organization. “Mirella Salviati,” I read aloud, my fingers brushing against my jaw as I process the name. My next assignment. The daughter of the Prosecutor General and I can feel it, this one won’t be simple. My gaze lingers on her profile picture displayed on the screen. Striking blue eyes. Soft features. There’s something almost… disarming about her. I exhale quietly, shifting my focus back to the details. “She’s a law student?” Interesting. “Probably trying to follow in her father’s footsteps… This one might actually be interesting,” I murmur to myself before dropping my phone and getting ready to start the day. Dressed in a fitted black shirt, oversized black trousers, and polished shoes, I step out of the house and into my sleek Ferrari. The engine hums to life as I pull out, heading toward my next target. Mirella. A student. Living in a dorm with her friends. Shielded her entire life by her father’s influence and power. It seems he crossed the wrong people and now, they’ve decided to touch what he holds most dear. I drive into the school compound and park in the lot, stepping out of the car. Almost immediately, heads turn. Curious stare, people trying to guess who I could be. Some of the girls glance a little too long, while a few guys eye me with quiet suspicion. If only they knew. Two months, that’s what I’ve been given. Two months to learn everything about her—who she talks to, where she goes, her habits, her routines. Every detail. I consider my approach. Do I step into her world directly…Or stay in the shadows and watch? A faint smile tugs at my lips. I’ve always preferred the latter. There’s something about the slow unraveling—the anticipation—that makes it far more satisfying. I move away from the main area waiting patiently until her class ends. Minutes later, she appears. Not alone—three friends by her side, laughter spilling between them as they talk about something trivial. Probably a lecturer, but my focus narrows instantly. Her. For a brief moment, my thoughts falter. She looks… different from her profile picture. Better, sharper and more lively. There’s an effortless confidence in the way she walks, in the way she carries herself—completely unaware of the eyes now fixed on her. Interesting. I observe quietly as they move along the path leading back to their dormitory. Two of her friends carry themselves like they come from influence and privilege. The third—less so, but still close enough to be trusted. I keep my distance, trailing them just enough to remain unnoticed, catching fragments of their conversation. Plans. They’re talking about going to one of the most popular clubs in the city after their exams… two weeks from now. Noted. No mention of a boyfriend. Good, less complication. I watch as they disappear into their dorm building, the door closing behind them. I linger a few moments longer before turning away and heading back to my car. “This is going to be interesting,” I mutter under my breath, a faint smile playing on my lips.MIRELLA The light slips through the curtains and falls on my face. I groan and move to cover it with the duvet, then freeze. I feel a sticky sensation between my legs, and I’m a bit sore.I jolt awake, my eyes flying open. I yank the covers away too quickly, twisting my arm painfully. Between my legs is sticky wetness, and I try to recall what happened exactly.I remember having a wild dream of Silvano doing dirty things to my body, and I blush hard at the memory.“This is crazy,” I say to no one but myself.I rise from bed to clean up. I pick up my toothbrush, add some paste to it, and begin brushing my teeth. I look up into the mirror, then freeze and almost shriek.There’s a dark purple hickey on the side of my neck.I lean closer to examine it. It’s definitely a hickey.How the hell did it get there?I shudder, thinking he was in my room while I was asleep... and touched me.I run out of the bathroom to inspect the room, thinking I might catch a glimpse of him. I look out the win
SILVANO Every mission has always been easy for me especially after the death of my family. But Mirella… she has been driving me insane, and I don’t like the feeling one bit.I don’t know what came over me at the bar that night. One minute, I was simply watching her; the next, I was seeing red. When that fucker grabbed her, something in me snapped. In that moment, all I could think about was ending him.. I would have ended him without hesitationIf she hadn’t stopped me. Her voice—steady, urgent—cut through the noise in my head. I don’t listen to people. I don’t take orders.But I stopped and I’ve been questioning that moment ever since. I rarely listen to anyone. But she made me stop. And even now, I regret it. Especially after seeing the marks he left on her skin.Mirella.She has become my new obsession—and that is a problem. This is a mission, one I am meant to complete without attachment. Yet everything about her pulls me in.I made sure she got home safely that night before I
MIRELLA POV A few days later, we all head back home for the holidays. When I arrive, the house is quiet. Too quiet. My father isn’t around,I expected that. I head upstairs, unpack slowly, placing everything in its place. The routine feels familiar. The kitchen feels warmer, lived in, and comfortable. “Madam Mirella!” Rosa, our cook beams the moment she sees me. I smile immediately. She’s always been more than just a cook to me, she's like a mom, she took me like I'm her very own daughter and has looked after me since I was a child. “Welcome back, my dear,” she says, pulling me into a warm embrace. “I missed you,” I admit softly. “And I missed you more,” she replies, cupping my face briefly. “How was school?” “Good,” I say, settling onto a stool. “Busy. Stressful. But… fun too.” I tell her about lectures, About exams, and about a picnic we had, the laughter. Everything felt normal again, everything felt safe. I leave out the rest. The watching. The man. The name I can’t for
MIRELLA POV By the time I step out of the restroom, my expression is calm again like nothing just happened But inside nothing feels settled. “You took forever,” Giulia Ravelli complains the moment I return. “Are you okay?” Elara Vossi asks more quietly, her eyes searching mine. “I’m fine,” I say, taking my seat. Nerina watches me for a second longer than the others. Like she knows I’m lying, she doesn’t say anything, And I’m grateful for that. The days that follow blur together in a strange, restless rhythm. Lectures, late-night reading, endless preparation. But through it all the feeling never leaves. That quiet, persistent awareness, Like I’m being watched. Not always obvious. Not always clear. But there. During my exams, the feeling is worse. I sit in the large hall, pen moving across paper, my focus sharp but fractured at the edges, because every now and then I sense it. A gaze. Unseen. I glance up once, most times twice subtly scanning the room. Nothing. Just stude
MIRELLA I’ve always tried to live a perfect life—just to please my father. Just the way he likes it. Being the daughter of the Prosecutor General isn’t as easy as people think. From the outside, it looks like luck—like I was born with a silver spoon, surrounded by luxury, untouched by struggle. But the truth is very different. I spent most of my childhood learning how to be perfect. Smiling when I was supposed to. Saying the right things. Playing the role of the happy daughter in a family that always looked flawless from the outside. And I do love my father, I do, but there are some moments where he’s too controlling. Too authoritative. He's the kind of man who expects obedience without question. He wants me to follow in his footsteps. To become a lawyer, to carry on his legacy and honestly I don’t hate the idea. I actually enjoy it—the defending, the arguments, the tension of proving a point. Arguing has always come naturally to me. It’s one of the few things that feels
SILVANO People always think death is loud but they're wrong. it's quite and thrilling to watch as fear kicks in, their eyes widen, body shook, falling to their kneels and begging for mercy while watching the light leave their eyes, laying lifeless in a pool of their own blood. Sitted on a chair opposite my victim in most the expensive and notoriously known club for the powerful and wealthy. I watch him silently thinking of the different things I'm going to enjoy doing to him, I have been deprived of that feeling for a while now. He is being entertained by two strippers on both of his side without knowing his life is about to be cut short in the next few hours. He takes a break and stands up to use the restroom, I rise after him and make my way towards his direction. I stand in front of the sink acting like I was also there to relieve myself. Bulking in, I walk behind him and whisper in his ears “ Your blood will look good splatted on my knife" I raise my head to look him straig







