Deadly Plan

~Reina~

The headache felt like a hammer pounding against the inside of my skull. Every throb seemed to echo with questions I couldn't answer. What the hell happened last night? And who the hell called me?

I stumbled toward the table where my phone sat, the screen smudged with fingerprints. No recent calls, no voicemails. My stomach twisted as a vague memory flickered-static, a voice, and then... nothing.

The last thing I clearly remembered was being at the bar. Drinks were flowing, laughter around me, but it all became a blur after midnight. There were faces, but they were shadows now, blurred and unfamiliar.

The call. I closed my eyes, straining to remember. There was something unsettling in the tone, like they knew me-knew something about me I wasn't ready to face.

I felt the ache in my ribs and glanced down. A bruise. My heart skipped. Did I get into a fight? Or was it something worse?

My pulse quickened as I checked the door. Locked. But for how long?

Was I scared? No. Fear would've made sense, but this-this was something worse. I was worried. That slow, creeping kind of worry that settles deep in your gut and refuses to let go.

Whoever called me last night knew something. It wasn't just a drunk prank or a wrong number. The voice, sharp and deliberate, had carved itself into the edges of my fading memory.

I paced the room, ignoring the throbbing pain in my temples. The questions were piling up too fast: Why couldn't I remember? What did they want? And why did I feel like they'd been watching me long before that call?

I checked the windows, scanning the street below. Nothing unusual. But that didn't mean nothing was wrong. People like me don't get strange calls without reason.

Whatever it was, I needed answers. And I wasn't going to wait for them to find me again.

I drifted away from my tangled thoughts and went to Marilyn's bedroom. The soft rise and fall of her snores carried through the hallway, grounding me in the present, if only for a moment. I pushed the door open without knocking. I didn't care. This was my house, my rules.

I leaned against the doorway, staring at her sleeping figure. She looked so damn peaceful. She didn't know what kind of hell was brewing in my head, what kind of war I was about to start.

My ribs ached, a sharp reminder of what I couldn't remember. Someone had touched me, left their mark like they owned me. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. They thought I wouldn't find out? They thought I'd let it go?

I stepped into the room, pacing now, my thoughts dark and spiraling. I needed to remember who it was. I needed to know whose fucking hands were on me.

Because when I found them, and I would find them, they'd wish they'd never been born.

I can remember fragments of my childhood, though sometimes I wish I couldn't. My dad was a tyrant cloaked in the title of "father." He'd come home reeking of alcohol and rage, tearing into my mum with fists and words sharp enough to scar a soul. He called her worthless, broken, a mistake. When his anger turned toward me, she'd throw herself between us, a shield of flesh and love, taking blows meant for me.

Men are scum. My dad was the epitome of everything vile about them. Just thinking about him makes my stomach churn. I swore to myself long ago: no man will ever make me feel the way he made my mum feel-unwanted, hated, discarded. A mistake.

I'll never let a man bring me to my knees-not like my mum. If anyone's going to kneel, it'll be them. They'll crumble before me, weak and powerless, just like they tried to make me.

"Let go of me!" she whimpered as I yanked her leg, dragging her off the bed.

"What's your excuse this time?" I growled, staring down at her. She met my gaze, her doe eyes wide, flickering between fear and something else-maybe defiance, maybe a cry for help.

"At the club, do you know who I was talking to?" I asked, my voice soft, but there was an edge to it-like a question wrapped in a warning.

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she turned her head, deliberately avoiding my gaze, and squinted her eyes as if she were running through a stack of mental files, each one more frantic than the last. I could see her mind working, trying to piece together fragments of the night, but I wasn't sure if she was genuinely unsure or if she was just stalling. Her silence stretched out between us, thick with tension.

"You don't know who that is?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief, her eyes widening as if I'd just revealed some terrible secret.

Her reaction was sharp, catching me off guard, but I wasn't about to let her see that. I could feel the weight of her gaze, like she was trying to gauge my every move, waiting for me to crack. But I wouldn't. Not yet.

"Bitch, if I knew, I wouldn't be standing here asking you," I snapped, my voice dripping with contempt. "Dumbass."

"Oh, right. Now I remember," I spat, my voice dripping with sarcasm, each word like a slap in the face.

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, but she answered anyway. "That was Marco."

"Holly fuck. My about-to-be-dead Marco?" I spat, disbelief and fury mixing in my voice. The words felt like they were clawing their way out of me.

"Marco Leonardo?" I furrowed my brows. All she did was nod in confirmation. That's was the guy I was planning to kill. I didn't even know what he looked like but I still wanted to kill, funny. I quickly left her room and went to get any computer I could see. One thing about me that most people have no idea about is that I can get what I want by just typing codes in my computer. I had to learn that for easy access of my victims. 

I set the computer down for a moment, staring at the blank search results. Marco Leonardo—a name with weight but no face, no history, and no connections. The lack of information wasn’t just deliberate; it was calculated. Men like him didn’t just erase their tracks—they made sure there was never a trail to begin with.

I slid my glasses back on and opened a secured browser. If Marco had been careful, I would have to be even more so. A few clicks later, I began scouring private databases, the kind not meant for public eyes. Corporate contracts, offshore accounts, encrypted chatter on the black market—there had to be something.

“Come on, Marco,” I muttered, my voice low. “No one’s untouchable.”

I felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. Hunting shadows was my specialty, and Marco Leonardo wouldn’t be the first ghost I dragged into the light.

I'm always a fucking step ahead.

Hours blurred as I worked, each failed code tightening the knot of frustration in my chest. Marco Leonardo had covered his tracks with precision—too precise for the average ghost.

"Smart," I muttered, fingers pausing over the keys. "But not invincible."

I shifted tactics, probing deeper into forgotten networks and encrypted systems. Every dead end only fueled my resolve. Marco could hide, but no one stayed invisible forever. Not from me.

Finally, I hit something—a family thread. His parents’ names surfaced in an old directory, tied to an outdated address of a rundown apartment where he’d grown up. I quickly jotted the address into my notebook, careful to commit every detail to memory.

As I dug deeper, more pieces of Marco’s life fell into place. He wasn’t an only child. He had a younger brother, just 23, and a sister exactly my age. Both names and vague records hinted at lives lived quietly in the background. Their parents, however, were long gone—killed in a car accident years ago. Except they weren't. He made that to protect them. But from what and who?

I leaned back, absorbing the information. This wasn’t just about Marco anymore. His family might hold the key to unraveling everything.

"Simon!!" I yelled. He came in a haste because he knew any delay means he is dead. 

"Get the car ready, we are going for a ride" he nodded and walked away.

I was even bothered to shower. I just wore my leather trouser, boot and a shirt that reads "MEN ARE PUSSIES" and I took my laptop and headed to the car.

It took an hour to get to the house and we had to stop at Starbucks to order because I was hungry and tired from sitting in one place. We arrived and pack away from the house. The house had security cameras at every angle. Using my computer, I was able to hack into the security cameras and turn them off. I got down, tucked my gun behind my back and steered to the front door. 

"stai dietro di me" I barked with pride. I have been killing people for a long time and I know how well to take care of myself. But he cannot, he is just a driver. As he cocked the gun in his hands, he kept shaking and his breath getting heavier.

[stai dietro di me means stay behind me]

This guy is a sad animal. All men are animals, this one is just sad.

Realizing that there was no one in the building, I began to search every drawer I came across. Documents covered in dust laid on the table, bed and in drawers. I searched the content of every document and I couldn't find anything, just sealing mafia relationship documents. When I thought all hopes were lost, I was about to take my leave when I saw a drawer that I haven't checked. It had a lock combination on it. I knelt down and began to try different codes.

"321" a loud noise erupted and a red light blinked once. 

"567" the same noise but this time, the red light blinked twice.

"859" this time, it was a green light that showed.

"Bingo" a wide smile plastered on my face as I saw 5 documents in it. I didn't have time to read all of them there so I took it and gave it to Simon and we left the building. In the car, I scanned through every document. The first document had history of the entire family. Of course everything about his family was fake. Every Mafia leader leaves a fake trace behind with some hidden truth. I quickly scanned for Marco and saw him. He was betrothed to some Adora Mikel. 

"Who is Adora Mikel, Simon?!" My temper was slightly rising. Whoever this bitch was, she was going to ruin my fucking plans and I can't let her do that. I need Marco position as don and if I need something and someone stands in my way, I kill them. That's my way of scaring them off my property permanently.

"Adora Mikel is 22 years of age and she is from the 7th highest Mafia family. I see her around Marco every ball or Mafia family event and it is announced that she or Mrs. Luciano’s daughter might marry him" he breathed out.

"Marry? No one can marry a dead man, right?" I laugh hideously. He looked at me from the rear mirror with his brows furrowed. 

I didn't care about the look on his face be it worry, fear or curiosity. All I knew is that I am going to kill Marco Leonardo and if his so-called fiancée stands in my way, she will go down with him as well.

"But Miss what if he kills you before you kill him?" Now I was the one who furrowed my brows. "I mean, what if he knows all your plan and kills you first?"

"Knows my plan? baby, I don't have only a plan. If one fails, the other wouldn't. The only people who know about this plan are the people in my house which includes you" I paused "so if I get ratted out, one of you did it and I will find the person and kill them and their fucking family before I die" 

There was something off about Simon and but he was just a random driver, what will he know and understand? In the game of life, always have a backup plan. You never know what will happen. I know this Marco guy is dangerous and holds a lot of power but so do I.

I am powerful, deadly and dangerous.