Chapter 3

Lorenzo's POV

I came back home and went straight to my room. I was angry and out of place. I can't believe she passed out after eating the chocolate I gave her. why would a stripper want to drug her?

Well, technically that would have made my initial job of wanting to kill her very easy but I couldn't fucking bring myself to do it.

She is so young.

She is a fucking Russian, I can't be all soft around her, I'm so sure she would kill me at the slightest chance she gets.

What the fuck is wrong with me

I was about to take off my clothes when I heard a knock on the door, my gaze immediately shifted to the door as I listened to the pattern of the sound again.

The sound came again, and I immediately knew who the person wants to speak with.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened Vicenzo came in, he is my second in command and best friend.

"How did it go?" He asked as he entered my room

"How did what go?"

"I know you went unaccompanied to the Russian territory last night just so you could see the face of the bitch that fascinate you so much these days"

"Nobody fascinates me Viz, I am just attracted to her skills and braveness, she is a misery that once I solve, I will be on to another," I said

“So, you didn't kill her," he asked.

“No. I didn't have the opportunity”

“I don't understand”

“Why are you here viz? I asked getting irritated by his audacity. He is my friend, but I am still his boss

"one of the girls was seen talking with a Russian," he said, as after he noticed my countenance, Chang.

"What did she say to him?"

"She is yet to say, she is locked away in the dungeon"

"And the Russian?"

"He got away"

"Do I know her?"

"Tricia, the pole dancer"

Fuck! I know her, she gives a good head.

"Let's just find out how much she let out," I said.

I picked up my two-9-millimeter pistols and shoved them into my jeans as we walked out.

*****

We went through a lot of secret doors before getting to the door leading to the underground garage, which is a very big and usually empty hall.

The underground is so deep into the ground, that even when a grenade explosion won't be felt by those on top.

I don't keep prisoners, it waste of funds and time, if you ever find yourself in this room.

Well, you might as well start reciting your last prayers because these walls might be the last ones you will ever see.

It's usually very dark with little or no light, that is the way I like it. Only a few people get to see the face of a Ghost and when they do, they don't live to tell the story.

We got to the garage and found the redhead girl sitting in a corner and hugging tightly to her knees.

Her once beautiful face was caked with smeared makeup, her eyes were watering with tears, and her body started fidgety the moment she heard the door open and closes.

She seem to breathe a sigh of relief as soon as the light came on, revealing my face to her.

"please tell them to let me go before the boss comes, I didn't do anything, please help me, I don't want to die" she pleaded with tears dropping from her eyes.

Did I mention no one around here knows that I am their fucking boss?

I most times don't even know I am the boss, I live in a fucking staff quarters.

There is a saying that the only way to stay invincible is to make yourself too available.

"What did you say to him Tricia," I asked while walking towards the only available chair in the hall.

I felt her eyes trail my every move until I sat on the chair and brought out my Pistols to sit on my laps.

"You broke Omertà," I said Coldly as I gave her a cruel stare.

Bang!

The shot run out of my gun followed by a deafening silence.

"Did I miss? I was aiming for your brain, starts talking" I said, looking at her Shiver, her face thrown into confusion and realization.

"I didn't know he was Russian, he only asked for a private dance and offered me a drink, I didn't know the drink was spiked and I can't even remember the things I said to him.

She surely did sound convincing

I mean the bitch can cry a river, and if I did not know the person she was talking about was her husband. I would have been fooled.

"Please don't kill me, please. I swear I am innocent " Sophia pleaded.

I popped my gun and pointed it at her head. Mentally calculating the distance between the gun in my hand and her brain.

Should I shoot out her brains or her fucking face?

That moment she must have seen a bit of the darkness that revolve around me, she knew the time for the joke was over.

"You son of a bitch, I should have known you were the one they called a ghost, I sucked your motherfucker dick, your true identity would soon know...."

Bang!

The sound went out of my gun straight to her head, splattering her cum filled brain all over the wall.

"Clean this place up," I said to viz, as I tucked back my gun and walked out of the garage.

*****

Nadia's POV

I came back from training with the other guys in the evening to see that a bag has been dropped off in my room.

I opened the bag to find a super short red dress, I searched further into the bag to see if I could get leggings or socks to go with the dress, but found none.

The only other thing in the bag is a pair of black lingerie, a pair of black heels that are almost six inches high, and a blonde wig.

How the hell am I suppose to wear a dress that can fit into a doll, on shoes that are higher than skyscrapers.

I fucking hate heels.

I have never been good at wearing them. I will rather just stick with my sneakers.

If this is what it takes to bring down the motherfucker that wiped out my entire family, then it's a piece of cake.

I walked into the bathroom to take a short bath has to time has been far spent.

I quickly slipped on the dress, hair, and finally wig.

After which I stood before the mirror to assess my new look, I look nothing short of a cheap prostitute.

The red dress clung tightly to my body, my entire breast was on the display with a little bit of fabric covering my tilts.

I tripped and fell flat on the floor as soon as I tried walking on the heels.

This is going to be much harder than anticipated.

Just then, my uncle walked into my room, he stares at me for a few seconds while his expression remain blank.

“I was told you have received the items you needed for tonight,” he said.

I instinctively tried to hid from his view as his eyes seem to linger in places that made me feel uncomfortable.

“you have to be careful out there, we have an insider living there, when its time, they will reveal themselves to you”

“try to finger out the Italians location and who the hell this ghost guy is. just know that you are doing the entire Russian Mafia a huge favor by bringing this guy down. I'm so sure your Dada would be so proud of the woman you have become” he said,

“While I'm at it, can you please find out  who the hell that stripper was that came to my room last,” I said

“We will fish him out, I promise,” he said and was about walking out when one of his men came and whispered to his ears.

”your ride is here,” he said.

I collected my gun to put it in my bag, but he stopped me.

You won't be needing that anymore, remember you a prostitute now, and prostitute doesn't go about carrying guns, he said with an evil grin.

*****

I was pushed out of the moving vehicle after which they zoomed off.

Motherfuckers

They couldn't even give me a headstart. I stood up brushing off the dust and dirt from my clothes and skin, while unconsciously tucking my breast back to the tiny fabric that is supposed to cover them.

The night was pitch black,  I walked drunkenly on my heels while trying to cover my body with extra yards of invincible clothes.

After about thirty minutes of roaming, I saw the headlight of a car approaching me at full speed. As they drove closer to me, they reduced their speed and wind their glasses down.

Beautiful, care for a ride” one of the men seated at the front of the car said.

His Italian accent is very prominent in his voice. I stared at the other men inside the car all looking serious, and dangerous.

“Hi handsome,” I said resting my body on the Van, trying to act all sexy when the actual truth is, I don't fucking know how to be seductive.

“How much are you paying me,” I asked.

The driver come down from the van, he walked over to where I was about to pull out a gun when I ran.

I ran as fast as I could run on heels and he caught up with me in no time. He dragged me back to the van, where two other men waiting for us.

I tried to put up a little fight but gave up after they secured my hands and pulled a bag over my head.

“Puttana, playtime is over get into the car,” he said, as he pushes me to the already opened back of the van.

(Whore)

I got in and found three other girls with their hands tied and faces covered with a bag.

My feet were seriously beginning to hurt from pains, hopefully, I don't get to survive another day on heels, but what if they decide to make me work as a pole dancer?

That would be catastrophic!

The car drove for close to two hours, and after which the car stopped. The door opened and we were asked to come down, of which we all did, after which they removed the bags from our heads.

The compound was enormously big with about four buildings that all looked similar.

“portal in the cella, Vado a dire al capo che sono qui,” the driver that dragged me earlier said, as he walks away.

(Take them to their cell, I will go and tell the boss they are here)

I could not help but wonder what he meant by saying, boss. Does he mean Ghost or there is another?

“inizia a camminare puttana,” one of the men said pushing me ahead of others.

(Start walking whore)

I knew what he was trying to do, he wanted to find out if I understood Italian, it is a common trick we did all the time back home at my uncle's.

I remained where I was, I just couldn't let these idiots know that I understand Italian, though not much but enough to know exactly what they have been saying.

“I said move bitch” he said to my ears, his bad breath almost making me puke.

They took us to a large room with bright light and had a mirror as a wall.

We turned around looking at our reflections from various angles, wondering what was going to happen next.

“Introduce yourself,” a male voice with a thick Italian accent said through a little speaker I was just noticing its presence for the first time.

“I'm Rose Williams,” I said after the other girls had introduced themselves.

“Age?”

“Twenty-one”

“Nationality?”

“American,” I said,

There was total silence after that.

polyimide ruku yesli vy favorite PO Russki” a familiar voice said.

(Put up your hand if you can speak Russian)

I instinctively almost put up my hands but quickly decided against it, and forced my hand back down.

“ya ochen' khorosho govoryu I ponimayu Russky yazyk,” one of the girls that were with me in the room said cheerfully.

(I can speak and understand the Russian language very well)

The light in the room suddenly went dim, as the door we came through opened. two men I assume to be guards came in, both carrying guns.

Another man came in, dressed in black and wearing a full face mask and gloves, his presence commands respect and fear.

He strands towards the girl that earlier indicated she understands Russian, and two shots ran out of his pistol I never knew he had in his hand the entire time into her Tommy.

I watched as her body hit the floor, and blood started gushing from her Tommy, she was gasping and coughing out blood, and within seconds she was dead.

One of the girls attempted to run out in panic but was stopped in her tracks by the guards. The man in the mask walked towards her, pulling a little knife from his leather jacket.

He sank the knife into her chest and dragged it down to her Tommy. She was dead the moment he let go of her neck.

He walked back to where I stood and whispered to my ears.

“tu Mio Fiore, Sarai la mia puttana,” He said, touching my cheeks with his blood-stained hands.

(You my flower, will be my whore)

For a moment there, I felt a different type of shiver go down my spine, and all the bravery in me seem to have been washed off.

I felt darkness engulfed me like never before, just like the day I watched my entire family killed before me.