I find my way through the lobby of the hotel and to the elevator. I press the button to Donatella's floor and watch the glowing numbers raise as the elevator ascends.
I didn't expect her to call so soon, but when she did and said to come over now, I didn't listen to any other word. I just grabbed my keys and rushed into my car.
The metal doors seperate and I walk through the halls until I find the room number matching the one she messaged me. Once I find it I knock on the door and am met with green eyes. Donatella opens the door, stepping out of the way so I can enter. I follow her to the bedroom, my eyes lingering on her ass.
When I lift my gaze a guy with tan skin and curly hair glares at me.
Donatella gestures for me to take a seat on one of the beds and she stays standing.
"Damien, this is Matteo. Matteo, Damien," she introduces us.
We don't acknowledge eachother as we wait for her to start telling me why she called me here.
She crosses her arms over her chest, "We want to partner up."
Her voice sounds almost defeated like she doesn't want to at all.
"Your family is okay with this?" I ask not believing it.
"Well, no," she doesn't explain further until I ask her to.
"They won't know, atleast for now. I wouldn't be able to trust them not to gut you all inside out from a single wrong look," she shrugs her shoulders.
I roll my lips into my mouth, "You would be fine with my team knowing you're Sicilians'."
Matteo and Donatella both nod.
We spend the next two hours discussing how we will tell my team, how we'll work together, and our boundaries of information.
I get up ready to leave. Donatella checks her phones clock and shakes her head.
"It's two in the morning, you're not driving back there," she says firmly.
"Where would I sleep, there are two beds and three of us," I excuse.
I watch her red bottom lip roll into her mouth as she bites on it, "I could sleep with Matteo."
"No," I say too quickly.
She raises a brow and looks back to Matteo. They share a look and she tries to hold in a laugh. She mutters something under her breath and sighs.
"You, Me, there" she points at the bed I'm sitting on, "Matteo, there," she points at the bed Matteo is on.
"I'm fine with that," I say as smoothly as I can.
She catches me off guard when she pulls her shirt off revealing a black laced bra. My mouth goes dry at the sight.
I glance over to Matteo and he just scrolls through his phone like this is an everyday occurrence. I lean my back against the head board and admire the beauty infront of me. She turns around so her back is to me and takes off her bottoms and she changes into clothed shorts. Her arms go around her back as she unhooks her bra and puts on a tanktop.
She gets into the bed, pulling the blankets up. I get up and peel off my shirt and pants leaving me in a pair of boxer briefs. Donatella's eyes trail over my chest, lowering further. I can't help but smirk.
I get into bed beside her. Matteo reaches over the the switch between the beds and turns off the lights to where it's pitch black in the room.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer to me until her back is touching my chest. We lay like this for a while. Matteo's breathing is light with a random snore every once in a while.
I feel her body relax as she falls asleep wrapped in my arms. I lay my head above hers, kissing the crown of her head before I close my eyes.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
I wake up from the sounds of the door opening. Light footsteps get closer into the bedroom, the darkness keeps me from seeing what or who it is. I tighten my hold around Donatella only to realize it's a soft pillow.
I reach over and grab my gun from the nightstand and flick on the lamp light. My eyes widen at Donatella standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
Her clothes are covered in blood, barely any normal cloth color. Her hair is stringy in blood and her face wears blood as if it was war paint. She grins at me, her teeth also stained in blood.
She brings her hand out from behind her back, also covered in blood. She opens her palm, she holds a couple fingers and teeth along with a silver watch.
"I got bored," she licks the blood on her teeth.
She goes through the bedroom to the bathroom and I get myself out of bed and follow her.
She drops her souvenirs on the vanity and turns on the shower, washing her red stained hands under warm sink water.
"Who," I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders, "Some guy outside a bar."
"Why him?"
Her jaw ticks, "He put his hands on a girl," she shakes her head.
I nod my head and turn off the shower water. She cocks her head at me.
"I need to get cleaned up," she says.
I ignore her and turn on the bath tubs water.
"Get in," I tell her.
I grab out a towel from under the sink as she undresses. Once I hear her sit down in the tub I turn around.
I take the hose and wash the blood from her hair, it runs down her back and red seeps down the drain.
I create a bowl with my hand and collect water from the hose to wash her face off.
"Do you want to know what I did to him," she smirks.
"Sure," I answer, squeeze soap out of a bottle and scrubbing it on her back.
"I cut off his fingers and forced them down his throat, well except the ones sitting on the vanity," she smiles proud at herself.
She continues, "Then I used Allegra and cut down his chest and pulled out his intestines in one long rope."
When I don't say anything she flicks her eyes over her shoulder to me, "You should come with nextime."
I nod my head and lift her chin with my hand to get the blood under her jaw off.
"Did you swim in his blood or something?" I joke even though I would believe her if she said she did.
"No," she rolls her eyes, "I hit a few arteries."
"How do you think Alek is going to react," she changes the subject.
"Probably not well," I say honestly.
She hums in agreement, standing up from the tub. I grab her towel and let her cover herself up.
She reminds me of Artemis, the goddess of the hunt.
When I was first taken in with my brother our childhood didn't continue, it was then changed to training. We were built to be killers and leaders.
Alek and I share no blood with the rest of our team, but it doesn't matter, we still are family. They are closer family than the rest of our bloodline.
Donatella mumbles something to herself as she brushes through her hair.
"Damien," her voice is quieter.
"Yes, beautiful?
"We have to make sure word doesn't get to family, my brother will kill me," I see the worry in her eyes.
"I'll make sure it won't," I tilt her chin up so she looks into my eyes.
She sucks in a breath, nodding her head.
"Donatella!" Matteo yells from the bedroom, followed by a thud, "shit."
She laughs and leaves the bathroom, I follow close behind.
"Hmm, Matteo?" she raises a brow.
"My Mamma is coming home for Christmas," he gleams.
Donatella's eyes widen as a smile pulls at her red lips, "I haven't seen zia Vay in years."
She turns to me, her smile getting wider, "You'll need to meet her someday."
Her smile warms my insides, making everything inside liquify.
But Christmas is months away, does she think we will still be in contact then?
Matteo glances away for a moment before speaking up, "It's six, should we go ahead down for breakfast?"
Donatella and I agree. We all get changed. I get back into my pants and dress shirt from last night. I put my gun in my waistband.
Donatella walks up from behind me and grabs her knife that looks like it didn't just slaughter a man not too long ago. She grabs her gun aswell, slipping both under her dress.
She wears a mid thigh red dress, the shoulder straps being silver and shining with rhinestones. The ruby red makes her green eyes standout.
By the time we are ready to leave it's already seven thirty. We go down to the lobby to the restaurant. Donatella reads over the menu outside to make sure she'll find something she likes. Once she does we find a table and take our seats. I sit on one side while Donatella sits across from me and Matteo to her left.
We order our drinks and food when the waiter comes by.
"I'm going to go run to the ladies room," Donatella announces.
She gets up from her seat and around the room you can see head turns as she makes her way through the dining area.
"You like her?" Matteo observes.
My eyes don't leave her retreating figure, "No."
He doesn't believe me, neither do I.
"She won't like you back...well like that, nothing more than," he clears his throat, "uh physical."
My eyes fix on him, "What does that mean?"
We takes a swig of his water, taking long to swallow.
"She can't create those emotional connections with people. She doesn't know what love feels like, or sadness, or fear. Everything just forms into anger or happiness," I just blink at him.
I shake my head, "But, the spider-"
Matteo stops me, "That's like the core to everything. When she got that, that's where everything changed. She was different than she'd used to be. But the memory of what happened still connects to those emotions she doesn't feel anymore."
"So she's a..." I drift off.
"Psychopath, um somewhat," he finishes.
I bring my coffee to my lips, looking at him over the rim as the steam blows onto my face.
Donatella makes her way back to the table, narrowing her eyes as she takes her seat as if she knows we were talking about her.
"The Brooklyn Bridge rises about three inches when it's really cold outside," Matteo cuts into his french toast.
"Why?" Donatella asks, taking a sip of her black tea.
"It's because the cables contract and expand due to the cold weather," Matteo explains.
"Good to know," Donatella sets her mug down, her hands wrapping around the bowl of the mug.
Donatella looks over to me and explains, "Anywhere we go he likes to spit facts about it," her eyes move to Matteo to her left, "Very unuseful facts."
Matteo rolls his eyes, "They could be."
"When would it be useful to know that Holiday World is the cleanest theme park in the world," she glares at him.
"When you want to go to a themepark that's clean!" he exclaims, neck twist and eyes fix at our table.
I chuckles, bringing my coffee back to my mouth.
The laugh is cut short when the window right beside us shatters, a bullet flying right past my head. The three of us duck under the table while the rest of the restaurant chooses rather or not they are going to run out or hide.
Under the table Donatella grins a sadistic smile. Multiple pairs of black shoes step through the window, stepping around our table.
Donatella's smile grows when their right behind the cloth we are hiding under. She grabs the ankle of the man behind her, rolling back causing the man to fall back. The man grunts when his head smacks against something.
I get up from under the table, before a second even passes a gun is pointed at me. I lick my lip and grab the mans forearm and kick him in the side of the ribs. He curls forward coughing, his gun flimsly in his hand. I grab his wrist and pull the trigger, his face now having a whole seeping out blood. His body falls back and I grab my gun from my waist.
I hear a laugh behind me and turn to see Donatella's legs wrapped around a man's neck as she sits on his shoulders. She doesn't squint an eyes when she snaps his neck.
A younger man charges at me and I just simply step out of the way and he runs right into the table behind me. I grab the back of the neck hole of his shirt, throwing him down to the tiled ground. His head snaps back and hits the floor.
"Open up," I tap his jaw, leaning over him.
He hesitantly opens his mouth. I place the tip of my gun in his mouth, pulling the trigger. Glass crunches behind me and I twist around and shoot the guy that was trying to come from behind me.
In my peripheral vision I can see Matteo punch a man in the throat before taking a shattered plate and cutting through his throat.
Another man tries to go for a lady crouched by a chair and I shoot him on his way. My body is pushed forward and then blood pours around my feet.
I look back to see Donatella holding a guy's body from his hair as his throat spirts blood all over the floor.
"Watch your back, Uccisore," she tells me, using her knee to kick the dead guy's back. The sound of his laryngeal dislocating make Donatella's lips twist upward.
"Matteo, fermati, tieni quello per interrogatorio," Donatella yells over to Matteo as he has a man in a headlock. [Matteo, stop, keep that one for questioning.]
Matteo immediately unhooks his arm around his throat as the guy was about to pass out. The guy cluches his fist to his throat as he gasps for air.
Donatella turns to me, "We need to go to your place in Russia tonight. They've already tracked us here."
I nod in agreement.