The Crushed Rose

WHISKEY

Vincenzo Romano:

The party was boring as always. And that is saying something since this time they tried to make it interesting by hosting a masquerade party, making everyone wear a mask. Dumb fuckers.

I was silently standing in a corner sipping my whiskey. My face was half covered in a black mask. My eyes scanned the entire room. The shrill laughter of people made its way to my ear. Pathetic. Even a deaf person could tell how fake these laugh were. But that is what you do here. Laugh like a fucking witch to make allies. 

Good thing I don't need allies. More than half of Italy is under my control and I have the most powerful force. But my mother still insists I come to these useless parties. So I come to these useless parties which are held once every three months for the people to relax and mingle. As if. I come just to stand in a corner glaring at anyone who dares to even come in a twelve feet radius of me. Thankfully these bitches learned soon enough. They gave up on any hopes on warming up to me and stopped trying to talk after the first three parties I attended.

Today, I must have been glaring extra hard because anyone whose eyes fell on me looked away immediately with a scared expression. 

There is a reason behind the look adorning my face. The Russians were at it again. Hitting my cartels and stealing my million dollar worth of gun shipments. It's pathetic really, when you can't make money on your own and have to steal from others. The shipment they have been hitting were minor at first but they have been increasing the magnitude of the attacks. They are killing all my highly trained guards hence whoever is behind these attacks were sending a lot of trained men at once. 

That means an open challenge. And no one dares to challenge me.

I sent a spy to Russia for inspection but communication with him suddenly got cut off today. That is, he died or joined hands with the Russians which means he is going to die a painful death in my hands soon enough.  Unfortunately for the stealing motherfucker, he was in my radar now and it is known all over the world that when I target someone, he or she ends up with a ticket straight to hell. 

My eyes suddenly fell on a girl whom I have never seen in these parties before. She was wearing a red gown with a slit down it's side which reached up to her thighs.  The dress hugged her body. Her face was covered in a mask much like mine except it was red. She had blond hair which shimmered under the light. 

Something about her caught my attention. She looked kind of familiar. She talked to people and made her way through the crowd. But she did not seem like she belonged here, in this pit of snakes. For a fraction of a second the people in front of me parted in such a way that I caught a glimpse of her face. And immediately I knew, even though her face was covered, I knew who she was. I could identify that pair of stormy grey eyes from a mile away.

I sighed. Here we go again.

And just as I thought, she slowly made her way towards me acting as if she wanted a drink from the table beside me. She was not a good actor. Just as she was beside me she brought out something shiny from the folds of her dress. I was not even looking at her and yet I knew what her next move was gonna be. Dumb bitch. Just as she raised her hand preparing to bring the knife down on me, I turned, grabbing her wrists. Needless to say, I was not impressed. This girl has already tried to kill me three times before and she failed, obviously. It has started to get annoying. She thought she was a ninja or some shit. But she was not that good at all. I mean sure, if she tried to kill any other fucker in this room, she might succeed. But against me, her skills were like that of an ant's. She should have gotten a lot more training. But I guess she deserved some appreciation for her perseverance.

I don't know why I haven't killed her yet. I could have done it with ease. I did get a lot of chances. Something about her stopped me from finishing her off.

But today I was in no mood for games. Especially boring ones.

She narrowed her eyes at my unbothered expression. Her eyes are what always catches me off guard. She has really pretty eyes. They are the exact color the sky gets during a storm. Her eyes are like the pacific ocean. You could keep going deeper and deeper but you would never reach the end. Her eyes are like the greatest of arts. You could stare for an entire lifetime but you would still not want to avert your gaze. Her eyes are like a siren song. They could lure people in and drown them. Her eyes put Shakespeare to shame.

I snapped out of my thoughts when she cleared her throat. I could tell by her expression she was just as bored with this as I was. So I decided  to do both of us a favor. Plus i needed an excuse to get the fuck out of here.

Five minutes later, I was dragging her out of the mansion. At first she was struggling a lot against my hold on her wrist but one glare solved that problem. Jamal was already waiting with the car outside. I threw her into the backseat and got into the front seat myself.

I could see the panic rise through her face as she took off the mask. I have seen her face before. She never tried hiding it. She was pretty, really pretty. But that won't matter when her limp body will be lying on the floor. 

She kept quite even though she was shaking like a leaf. Good girl. 

We pulled up into the warehouse garage. I got out of the car and opened the door to the back seat, harshly pulling the girl out. She flinched. She was scared of me. Good.

I took her to an empty room at the back. It had no furniture in it except a table at one corner with a few knives kept on top. A bulb hung low from ceiling which buzzed to life when I flicked the switch on. The yellow light barely illuminate the entire room.

"I think you know what is about to happen" I say to the girl. She kept her gaze trained on the floor. "You know, I think with a little more practice you could have really pulled it off. But good try. Ten on ten for perseverance though."
Normally I would torture the fuck out of someone who would have tried to kill me even once. Get out all the information and stuff. But with her it was almost like I did not want to kill. Which was extremely surprising. She looked like she too, was reluctant on carrying out my murder. I saw it in her eyes every time I caught her. But I could not let this go on. 

I went to the table at the corner taking up one of the knives and keeping my blazer on it. I rolled up my shirt sleeves. I could feel her gaze trailing the veins in my arms.

Amusing.

I walked up extremely close to her and her gaze returned to the floor. I could hear her heavy breathing and I could taste her fear.

And with that I stabbed her right in her abdomen.

She gasped softly staring at the knife. 

It must be appreciated how she did not beg for her life or try to defend herself. She didn't even talk once. Pity. I wanted to hear her voice. The scaredy cats I kill should learn a few things from her. Her gaze slowly raised to my face. I smiled. I could see her expression change from scared to anger to, was that relief? Interesting. I definitely wanted to know what she was thinking. Too bad I could not ask her. 

Her body slumped forward and she fell to the floor as I moved away. 

Her eyes closed. Those beautiful eyes. What a shame. But alas.

I walked out of the room barking at the guards to clean the mess up.

As I rode back home, I felt something swirling in my chest. I scoffed. Did i actually feel sorry for the girl?