Sanita's POV
My eyes fluttered open slowly; Darkness, Cold, Stillness. I tried to move, but it hurt as I was yanked back, tied to a chair, and I exhaled quietly. Good. There are no reports of any changes to the schedule, well….almost, except for the gunshot and him. David De Luca. The thought of him still came to me today. Dark eyes so empty, empty for a man with everything. He had sharp features, a controlled presence, and beauty in danger.
A shame. Really. Such a fine man like him…..I came here to destroy. The rustle of footsteps brought me back to reality.
"Well, look who's awake?" I raised my head a little. This young man was standing there, a certain amusement that he seemed to have in studying me as an entertainment, when he left.
Another one strolled in. Leonard. Second in command, I knew him right away, of course, I did. I did my homework. He said, in a nonchalant manner,
"Welcome back to the land of the living." I rolled my eyes. Unimpressed.
Then he turned and dressed in his clothes. "Any questions you want to ask quickly?" I said.
"Are these good to wear?" I stared at him. "…Yes." He nodded seriously.
"Good." Then his expression changed, cold and focused.
"You were in our basement?" Silence. I leaned back a little, leaning against the chair. Watching him. Waiting.
He sighed. "OK, let's do it the hard way." He went to the table next to him, where there were tools, sharp and familiar. Interesting. He took up the blade and twiddled it between his fingers, and glanced back at me with a smirk. Creepy man. He then stepped closer, slow and deliberate. He lifted the blade towards me when the door flew open. "Get out." That voice.
Leonard didn't argue; he left immediately. David stepped in, and suddenly, the room seemed cramped. There stood two men, silent and watching at the door. Though my mind never left him with appropriate lighting, he was that much more dangerous; messy hair, Sleeves rolled, tie loose. Controlled… but barely.
He came to a halt in front of me, too close. We stared at each other, seconds passed, maybe minutes, and I didn't look away, nor did he.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly, too calmly.
I turned my head a bit. "Well, that is up to you," I said softly.
"Would you like to know the truth… or a lie?" In a blink, a gun was pressed to my forehead. Fast. Precise. Deadly. Still, I didn't flinch. His eyes met mine, and there was something in his eyes that I couldn't read. He asked me again, "What were you doing in my basement?" "Answer carefully." I sighed lightly.
"I was hungry," I said, in a dry manner. "What would an assassin be doing there, do you think?"
His jaw tightened. "Don't test me." I rolled my eyes.
"They're always so theatrical." The gun fired. Immediately next to my head. The resonance of the sound was strong and clear within the room. Silence followed. Still, I didn't move. His gaze darkened slightly.
"I don't like repeating myself." He talked over his shoulder. "Bring me a blade." One of the men moved swiftly back with a shiny knife. My favorite kind. Slowly, David came closer and closer.
"I don't like ruining beautiful skin," he said quietly. The blade scraped my arm as it moved. "But, I can make exceptions." I smiled.
"Careful," I murmured. "You may find that you love it." His eyes narrowed.
"What's your name?"
"Ann." Too fast. But I didn't care.
"Ann, what?"
"Ann Vinca." He studied me longer this time. Deeper.
"You are lying to me," he replied tritely.
"But I need a name to call myself." He straightened slightly. Then again,
"What were you doing in my basement?" I smiled slowly.
"For someone who doesn't like repeating himself… you're doing a lot of it." The blade flashed. Then, Pain it was sharp and immediate. It was embedded in my leg. I clenched my jaw, but I didn't scream, though. didn't beg or break. He twisted the thing just a little bit. Watching me and waiting.
Finally, I said, "I was sent to kill you."
Silence.
His gaze sharpened. "So you're an assassin?" I raised a brow.
"No", I said with emphasis. "I'm a dancer." A pause. "Of course I am."
He leaned closer, and within arm's reach, where I can smell him. "Don't give me ideas like that." I smiled.
"Who sent you?"
"God..?" I said, and kept on looking at me, then I sighed lightly,"…I don't know."
There was a muscle that ticked in his jaw. He said something in Italian that was not audible.
Annoyed?.
Good.
"Why lie?" I added calmly. "If I knew, I'd tell you; it couldn't help me anyway."
He looked over me once again. Longer and silent.
Then, He stepped back, turned, and walked out. Just like that. He stepped out, and the door was shut. Silence filled the room again, Heavy and uncertain. I looked down at the blood dripping off my leg and was able to give a slight smile.
For me, the knife David De Luca had just plunged into my thighs wasn't the frightful thing.
But rather, the moment I had an unrepentant pleasure when David locked eyes with me and stabbed me.