Brinda

Stepping into the expansive living room of the mansion, my breath hitched. The space oozed luxury — everything in sight screamed money, from the opulent furniture to the gleaming marble floors.

A part of me couldn’t help but envy the grandeur of this place. What would it have been like to live here? I wondered bitterly.

I cursed my parents under my breath, the frustration of my past life bubbling up once again. But before I could dive deeper into those thoughts, I heard noises coming from upstairs. Curiosity pricked at my senses, urging me to find the source.

I hurried up the staircase, following the sounds, and soon I found myself standing outside a door that creaked open, revealing a scene that made my stomach twist.

Inside, a man with a bulging belly knelt close to a plush chair, surrounded by three women — prostitutes by the look of them — also kneeling on the floor.

Francesco stood by the door, flanked by his men, his presence as commanding as ever. His gaze was sharp, full of silent judgment.

“Purab Chaturvedi,” Francesco's voice rang out, cutting through the thick silence of the room. He casually sat on the sofa opposite the man, his posture relaxed but his eyes hard.

“Yes?” Purab stammered, visibly unnerved. His Indian accent, not betraying him.

“You know I don’t like wasting my time,” Francesco continued, his voice chilling as it rose slightly in tone. “Tell me who your leader is.”

Purab’s demeanor shifted suddenly, as if an unseen switch had been flipped. He stood up, clapping his hands together in a mock display of bravado.

Francesco’s men moved forward instinctively, but Francesco raised a hand, signaling them to stop.

“Who are you to control me?” Purab sneered, his swollen belly shaking with the movement. “I’ve been in this business long before you were even born.”

Francesco’s lips curled into a smile — one of those smiles that never failed to send a shiver down my spine. It was the kind of smile that spoke of things far darker than mere mockery. “Don’t mistake my patience for kindness, Purab,” he said, his voice low, full of menace. “Tell me who your leader is, and I’ll spare your life.”

Purab, tall and huge, marched towards Francesco and slapped him hard. Really hard. I raised my hands to shield my eardrums from the deafening sound while the ladies cried.

I couldn't help but feel pity for Francesco. The slap was the loudest I've heard in my entire life.

“Who gave you the power to threaten me? Your father who did that the last time is already dead. He is fucking dead.” Purab’s laughter was infectious, filling the room with joy.

Francesco’s temper flared, ignited by Purab's taunts. He grabbed his neck and pushed him till he reached the bed stand and because of his weight, he dropped to the bed which after Francesco climbed on top and punched him severally till blood dripped out of his mouth.

When Francesco climbed down, it was then I saw he had an iron bracelet in his hand. He looked at me for the first time. “Did you see that?” He asked, breathing profusely. “I will do the same to you if you don't follow my rules. My world, my rules.”

“Are you talking to me or someone else?” I asked before I rushed to where Purab was, almost lifeless.

If Francesco came after Purab, it means that he is Francesco's enemy or he is an associate to Francesco's enemy.

What does Francesco want from him?

I concluded sharply that with the look of things, he wouldn't let the man die since he needs the man to reveal who his boss is.

But I thought wrong, really wrong.

One of Francesco's men who were close to where he stood, threw a pistol to him and within a twinkle of an eye, Francesco shot the ladies.

I was forced to yell, “Francesco. Why? They did nothing.” I rushed closer to the bed stand where their bodies were laid. “You are cruel.” I tried wiping the blood stains from my hand but they remained there.

“Wait till you see how cruel I am.” He said and in a swift move to the left, he shot Purab thrice — Head, left chest and stomach.

The blood spilled on my face which resulted in me closing my eyes.

The same life I never wanted is coming back and I have killed more than enough. I have caused the death of different heads of families. I have sown the seed of sorrow in many households. To this day, a lot of families are still grieving because of my actions.

But that's in the past, not anymore.

“Get rid of the body. There shouldn’t be a trace left.” Francesco’s voice was cold and commanding as he turned and exited the room without a second glance. “And someone, drag that weeping woman out too.”

Two of his men approached and roughly hauled me out of the room. The air felt heavy as they led me through the building, and by the time we stepped outside, three black cars were lined up, their headlights cutting through the night.

I was shoved into the back of the car that Francesco had entered.

I could feel the anger simmering beneath my skin, my frustration with him growing with every passing second. The blood stains on my clothes, a reminder of the violence I'd just witnessed, made my stomach churn.

I turned my gaze to the window, hoping to lose myself in the night view of Vietnam, trying to clear my mind.

As the car sped through the streets, my thoughts were a jumbled mess. We were heading somewhere, but where? The uncertainty gnawed at me.

As we neared the airport, Francesco reached for a bag and began pulling off his clothes. I quickly turned away, not wanting to be subjected to the sight of his pitiful physique.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice cut through the cold air like a blade. I couldn’t believe this was the same man I once fell in love with.

I glanced back at him, my eyes narrowing as he handed me some clothes. I held his gaze for a moment, but he avoided it, his focus shifting to the driver. I snatched the clothes from his hand, my fingers trembling with frustration, and hurriedly changed.

Just as I finished, the car jerked to a sudden stop, sending me lurching forward and crashing my head into the driver’s seat.

“Can’t you drive properly?” I shouted, my hands frantically tugging at my hair as I tried to straighten it.

The door swung open, and in stepped a woman dressed in tight black jeans, a black blouse, and a matching cap.

Her presence was enough to send a chill through the air, her aura as cold and intimidating as her outfit. Without a word, Francesco shoved me aside, making room for her as though I didn’t even matter.

“Brinda, meet Bullet,” he said nonchalantly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Bullet, this is the stubborn lady beside me, Brinda.” I chose to look away, my lips pressed tight, refusing to acknowledge her grin.

“B and B,” Francesco added with mock enthusiasm. “What a perfect combination.” Turning to Bullet, he asked, “Was the mission successful?”

$Chapter

Brinda

“The mission was smooth, Boss." Bullet's voice was flat, yet her eyes glinted with an edge that made me wonder just how much of her soul was buried under the mask she wore.

Francesco’s gaze didn’t leave her, his eyes cold and calculating. “And you ensured all the evidence was cleared?" he asked again.

The tension in the air was palpable. Bullet didn’t respond verbally, but I could feel the answer in the silence. She nodded.

Francesco's grip on my hand tightened, his fingers digging into my skin as I fought to free myself.

“Whether you want it or not, Bullet is your partner now. She’ll be by your side on all operations. Your mission begins once we touch down in New York.” His words were sharp, as though he’d already decided my fate.

I pretended not to hear him, staring out the jet window, the cold wind biting at my resolve. The minutes dragged on, stretching into what felt like hours. I was trapped. There was no escaping the web Francesco had spun around me.

Soon, we were at the airport. I was yanked from my seat and pulled, not toward Francesco, but to the back of the jet.

The cold hands of his men guided me into a separate section, forcing me to sit apart. They shut the door with a finality that made my blood boil.

The muffled sounds that followed made my stomach turn — low moans from behind that closed door.

Francesco had locked himself in with Bullet, his toy, while I was left outside, helpless and burning with jealousy, fury, and something darker.

I tried to block out the noises, but sleep eventually claimed me. Exhaustion took over after hours of forced stillness.

When the night began to fall, Francesco called for me. I walked into his room, my every step filled with dread. He sat there, sprawled out as though the weight of the world couldn’t touch him. His posture screamed dominance.

"Sit," he commanded sharply, his voice carrying an icy authority that left no room for defiance. I hesitated, but only for a second, before I took my place opposite him, my gaze cold and distant.

“Purab Chaturvedi,” he said, breaking the silence, his tone casual but deliberate.

I looked away, pretending to be uninterested, but the name struck a chord. It felt like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit, and I hated how much I wanted to know what they shared.

“Purab Chaturvedi runs a media empire and has deep ties in the oil business,” Francesco continued, his voice colder now, with a hint of contempt. “Two years ago, he struck a deal with my father, but there’s more to that deal than what meets the eye. People like him aren’t to be trusted.”

"Why are you telling me all this? I didn’t ask," I shot back, my eyes narrowing as I met his gaze.

Francesco ignored my defiance. He picked up his glass, swirling the wine before taking a slow sip. The smoke from his cigarette filled the air like a cloud of menace, his every movement deliberate.

I couldn’t help but notice how much he smoked, his health slowly deteriorating with each drag. It was only a matter of time before it killed him — and I’d be there when it happened.

He leaned back, crossing his legs, his expression unreadable. “This is for your mission. You’ll need to set fire to the rain.”

“What mission? What fire? I’m not running errands for you,” I fired back, unable to contain my irritation.

He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine, the air around us suddenly feeling colder. “You will. And you will die if you don’t listen. Remember, Deadly Nightshade runs through your veins.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. The threat was real. I sighed deeply, the weight of his ultimatum pressing on me. “And what exactly is this mission?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Francesco stood, his tall figure casting a shadow over me as he moved toward the balcony. “Retrieve the crypt key,” he said, his words sharp like the edge of a blade.

I frowned, confused. “Crypt key? What is that?”

“You don’t need to know the details,” he replied, his voice devoid of warmth. “Just do as I say. No questions, no attitude.”

"Where is it?" I pressed, my impatience showing.

“The Fernandez family,” he said, his words dripping with disdain. “They’re my family’s greatest enemies. Their leader died recently, and now, it’s the perfect time to strike. The hideout’s location will be shared with you.”

I shook my head in disbelief. "How am I supposed to carry out this mission if you won’t tell me anything?"

Francesco’s gaze sharpened, and he raised an eyebrow. “You were once a spy. You know how to connect the dots. Do your job.”

With that, he walked away, disappearing into the bathroom and leaving me standing there, lost in a swirl of questions.

I couldn’t help but wonder — what had I gotten myself into? Purab Chaturvedi, Francesco, the Dante family, the Fernandez family... the pieces didn’t fit together, not yet.

I made my way to my room, where a well-packaged box awaited me. I opened it slowly, unsure of what to expect. Inside was a black suit, pistols, and a phone. The phone buzzed with a message.

Francesco: Ensure you set a lock screen password. Through this phone, I’ll know if things go wrong.

I tossed the phone aside, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me.

I didn’t want to do this, but if it was the only way out, I’d do whatever it took.

After slipping into the black outfit, I covered my face with the mask Francesco had provided. My hair was pulled back tightly, and the pistols were tucked into my sides. The phone slipped into my breast pocket, the screen set to silent.

As I stared at my reflection, memories from the past flooded my mind. This was too familiar. The sleek black costume, the weapons, the mask — it was all too much like my old life.

The clock struck midnight.

I moved quickly, making my way down the silent corridors. The house was eerily quiet, and I quickened my pace. When I reached the door, I heard footsteps behind me — footsteps that didn’t belong to Francesco or his men.

I turned to find Bullet standing there, her eyes sharp and calculating, like a predator preparing to pounce.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

She ignored my question, rolling her eyes before walking past me. "Boss doesn't trust you. From now on, we’re partners on missions."

With that, she entered a black car parked outside, and I followed her. The driver, covered in tattoos and with his hair braided, gave us a nod before taking off.

We reached our destination, a dark building nestled in the shadows of the night. Bullet and I stayed low, blending into the darkness, moving swiftly like shadows. We had a mission to complete.

We approached the building, two guards standing at the entrance. Bullet gave me a sharp look, then raised an eyebrow, echoing Francesco’s signature gesture.

“Stay here,” she whispered. “I’ll go around. We take them down together.”

"I’m ready," I replied, already feeling the thrill of the hunt rise within me.

With a clean swoop, the men were down.

I shot one in the head, while Bullet took a more brutal approach, slitting her target’s throat.

Bullet turned to me, her expression unreadable. “These people are more dangerous than you think. Now I understand why Boss doesn’t trust you.”

She moved towards the entrance. “As we go in, we have two choices: come out alive or get killed. Make your decision.”

I followed her into the building, every step taking us deeper into the unknown. The mission had begun.

$Chapter

Brinda

As we stealthily made our way into Fernandez's hideout, we slaughtered his men to clear our way into the underground apartment.

When we finally reached the tunnel to the underground, Bullet instructed me to be very cautious as more secrets would be revealed.

I braced myself for whatever is to come.

We faced the apartment, four guards were there. Their eyes clearly opened to catch every glimpse of unclear activities. Without wasting time, knowing we can't go round them, Bullet and I sprung into action.

The men, alerted by our hideous presence, brought out their guns but we prevented them from using it as we all battled to gain the upper hand. I knocked one of them out when he tried to stab Bullet from behind while I punched another in the nose. I was less worried if he had a broken nose or not. Bullet's words were already at play as I sought only for survival.

The guard with a broken nose held onto his nose for a while before he attempted to escape into the apartment. I went after him and he also tried going toe-to-toe with me. I defeated him after I delivered a painful knee strike to his jaw.

Too cool that I still had it in me — The energetic spirit.

Turning around, I saw that Bullet already silenced one of the men she was in a fierce fight with while the other man fought relentlessly. Given his huge stature, it would take time for Bullet to defeat him.

I charged towards them and called Bullet to step aside before I plunged a knife into the man's chest. He was about to let out a loud cry but Bullet was quick enough to cover his mouth with the blood stained gloves that shielded her hands.

“That's more like it,” she said, beckoning at me.

We jumped into the apartment through the back window. The apartment was as silent as a graveyard. We walked carefully ensuring our boots did not make the least of a noise as we surveyed the area.

Realizing there was no single soul in the building, I and Bullet separated so we could find the crypt key as fast as possible. On my side, I searched endlessly to get my hands on the crypt key since my life kind of depended on it.

After a thorough search, Bullet hurried in. Her breath was fast. Really fast. “What's wrong?” I asked, curious.

“I couldn't find the key. I guess you couldn't find it either. But right now, we need to leave.” Before she completed her last statement, she already dragged me away. I kept on looking back, stretching my hands around the room we were in.

In a jiffy, we were out of the room then back to the spacious living room.

We trespassed the dead bodies of the men we killed earlier and went out of the underground. Judy then, a series of headlights shone brightly as cars made their way into the compound.

I pulled Bullet in time and we hid behind a parked car. Our breaths heightened as we tried to keep a low profile. We watched as men cladded in a black suit made their way out of the cars which after two of them made their way to the most-looking luxurious car of them all.

Bullet's almost manly voice pierced through the air. “Isn't the Don of Fernandez's family dead?”

I threw a quick glance at her. “How do you know that? And if the Don is dead, who is the man or woman the guards are about to escort out of the car?”

Bullet ignored my questions with a face full of disapproval. Whether she wanted it or not, I knew I was going to get to the bottom of the whole issue.

I returned my head to the left and tapped my right leg on the floor anxiously waiting for the person to emerge from the car. Then, I saw a leg which another followed before a man exited the car.

His presence alone exuded power and dominance. He was dressed in a black suit which complimented his figure perfectly. However, I couldn't see his face because of the darkness that shrouded the area.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bullet cursed under her breath.

I was about to reply to her but I was stopped by the deep male familiar voice that cut through the air. Not only did it cut through the air, it reverberated in my ears.

My chest tightened and I was forced to accompany the pressure by placing my hands on it. My legs shook vigorously and the air got more tense. All of a sudden, I found it difficult to breathe. As I gasped for air, to my surprise, Bullet used her hands to apply a little pressure on my back.

“Is it all set?” The man asked another question after a long silence.

If I am not mistaken, this man is Peter, my boyfriend whom I almost pushed down the cliff days ago based on Francesco's request.

“How come he's still alive?” I asked no one in particular with a heavy pounding in my chest. “No, it can't be.”

He is the one I love. The one I can die for. Maybe not anymore.

All I want is to run to hug him. I just want to be in his arms to tell him how much I have missed him but probably, that has come to an end.

I ended up cursing myself repeatedly as I asked myself why I obeyed Francesco's demand.

Then Peter and his men marched towards where we hid since their last destination seemed to be the underground apartment. Behind Peter is a man who carried a golden box — Very small. Just a few inches compared to my pinky finger.

“That is the box that contains the crypt key.” Bullet whispered.

“Don Marshall, we were unable to find information on the lady, Brinda, and the other man.” One of his men reported.

Don Marshall? Did he switch his name? Is he a twin? No! It can't be. Peter's voice is the same. Though the looks have changed as he now has a plaited hairstyle.

“Francesco can't run for long, nor can Brinda. Find them both. Even if it is their dead bodies, I want to see it.” He ordered shortly before they got to the tunnel. He stopped and smiled. That was when I saw his bright face for the first time since the incident.

His deep blue eyes glinted with happiness. “I changed my mind. As for Brinda, get her back no matter what it costs. If she's alive, my revenge will be much more intriguing because I will watch her suffer for the rest of her miserable life. Isn't that fair… boys?”

His herd of men laughed in response which showed they were satisfied with their Boss’s intentions.

A volcano erupted within me and I almost scampered towards them but Bullet who was almost irrelevant in the scene pulled me back and that came with a grace cost.

Her hand hit the car's rear window resulting in a loud thud that caught the attention of Peter or Marshall and his men.

“Make sure you skin them alive.” Peter's commanding voice echoed, sending shivers down my spine.

$Chapter