Chapter 6

“Yes, sorry ma’am.” They both gasped. I walk over to the still screaming intruder, and stomped on his head, causing him to knock out. I ripped off his mask, to revel quite an ugly bald man. Older, too pale to be an Italian or Mexican. Probably an assassin of some sort, and obviously not a good one to have his face covered in scars. Tattoos covered part of his face and neck. Curious, I ripped off his shirt. He was muscular, and by muscular, I mean huge. At least 6’4 or 6’5. I examine his tattoos until my eyes wander to one on his chest.

I clenched my teeth, knowing exactly who sent him.

“Inform my parents about this situation. Take this fucker to the basement as well. And make sure he doesn’t die…yet.” I said to the bleeding guards. They nodded and immediately started to drag the unconscious body out of my room. “Oh and get someone to clean up this shit too.” I yelled out, waving my hand at the fresh blood that now decorated my walls

I rinsed off the shampoo and blood from my hair, cursing that I have to shower instead of enjoying a warm bubble bath.

“Oooh he's gonna get it.!”

I finished my shower dried off and went to my walk in closet. Shelves were filled with designer brands. The racks were all filled with mostly black clothes, but I did have some colored clothes here and there for my follicular face. I reached in a drawer, and pulled out a blank tank top, and a pair of ripped black jeans. I walked over to the door in my closet, opening it and revealing my shoe room. (Yes, I have so many shoes that I had to install an extension to my closet just to fit them all.)

My hands grazed each pair as I walked past. If there’s one thing I love, it’s my shoes. Knowing I’m about to get dirty, I threw on a pair of worn out combat boots. I quickly braided my hair in a long French braid that fell at my hip. I made my way out of the room, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, can't survive without this.

The basement is where we kept most of our prisoners, and it’s honestly my favorite place in the house. My father relied on me to get information , and trust me, I was damn good at it.

I finally reached the basement. The door was guarded by four men. They acknowledged me by a quick nod of their head and looked down immediately, My aura scares them and I thrive in it.

“Your father’s already down here.”

The bald one said. I nod and place middle finger on the scanner, and the doors slide open.

“Siri, play Paint the town red”

Yes with this kind of life you need an outlet and music when high is mine…I wonder if it's just me but music hits different when high.

I lit a cigar and puff it while I make my way down 5 flights which leads to different rooms, this house is a literal maze.

I find the one I need, and scan my finger. It beeps in recognition, and I joyfully walk inside. This will be fun. The room is dark, with only one light above the assassin. He’s scolded, pointing to the cigarette in my mouth.

”Trust me father, when the devil comes for me, it won’t be because I smoke too many cigarettes.” I laughed as I leaned against the wall, propping one leg up.

My father rolls his eyes dramatically and makes his way to the prisoner. His head is flopped forward in what looks like an uncomfortable position.

“Wake the fuck up.” My father yells and punches him across the face. The prisoner groans and slowly raises his head up

“Who do you work for?” My father said as he grabbed his face roughly, forcing him to make eye contact. “Go fuck yourself” the prisoner hissed through his teeth. He then threw his head back a bit and spit towards my father's face, luckily he misses it.

“Oh you’re in for it now.”I laughed from the shadows.

My father releases a barrage of punches to his face. He then kicks the chair over so he’s now on the floor. My father walks back to me and leans next to me on the wall. “Go have some fun baby girl.” He grinned.

“Oh with pleasure.” I said finishing my cigarette and flicking it to the floor.