6ix

Massimo Banchero's imposing figure was unmistakable, his 6'3" frame towering over most. His shaved head accentuated his sharp features, while his pale skin seemed almost ghostly. His eyes, heavy with a perpetual sleepiness, gave him a lethargic appearance that belied his reputation. A wide nose that dominated his face, and his small lips seemed pressed into a permanent scowl, lending an air of intimidation to his already formidable presence. He was a powerful drug lord who had alliance with the mafia, he was feared and strong, and would take down anyone who stood in his away.

Banchero's history with Victor was quite a funny one. His deals with Victor. Banchero and Victor were once friends and over time being rivals, way before Danielle's death.

Banchero and Victor were business partners in their remunerative drug business, they both shared the same drug supplier, Dante and they made profit off it from their collaboration, the pay was 50/50, Banchero paid the Dante the rightful amount because Dante was taking care of his sick grandmother and his little brother while Victor paid less than 50% Dante knew he being was cheated, he knew he was being robbed off his own money but was scared to confront Victor, because he feared loosing his life. He secretly supplied more drugs to Banchero than Victor because, Victor was not being fair, when Victor found out, he murdered Dante in cold blood out of jealousy. Banchero found out, confronted Victor for his cruel and selfish act and he decided to cut off all business ties with Victor. Victor's anger over Banchero's decision made him hate Banchero, he swore on his life that he would kill him, he trained Danielle to hate Banchero, lying to her that Banchero has been stealing from him for the past years and Banchero also threatened to kill him,his daughter Danielle and is plotting to take his business and make it his.

Danielle slipped into the room with the stealth of a ghost, her footsteps barely making a whisper on the floor. She moved with precision, her eyes locked on her target. From her pocket, she retrieved a syringe, the needle glinting in the dim light. With a swift motion, she injected the Histamine, the liquid disappearing into his system. The action was swift and silent, leaving no trace behind. She withdrew the needle, her movements calculated, as she melted back into the shadows, her presence as fleeting as the wind. Danielle reached behind her, her hand grasping the folded cadaver bag tucked into her back pocket. With a smooth motion, she pulled it out, the material unfolding with a soft rustle. The bag's dark, vinyl surface seemed to absorb the light around it, its presence stark and utilitarian. Danielle's movements were economical, her focus on the task ahead as she prepared for what was to come.

Danielle grasped the cadaver bag, unfolding it with a practiced motion. She carefully maneuvered Banchero's restrained body, lifting and shifting him to align with the bag's opening. With a slow, deliberate movement, she slid his body into the bag, the vinyl material enveloping him with a soft rustle. As she worked, Banchero's struggles and protests were muffled by the bag's thick material. Danielle carefully adjusted his position, ensuring he fit within the bag's confines. Once he was fully enclosed, she grasped the zipper and pulled it up, the sound of the teeth meshing together echoing through the room as the bag sealed shut around him. The bag's dark, vinyl surface now encased Banchero's form, rendering him invisible and immobile within its confines.

Danielle gripped the cadaver bag firmly, its weight substantial in her hands. She walked with purpose towards her car, the bag's vinyl rustling softly against her legs. As she reached the trunk, she swiftly opened the lid, revealing the empty, dimly lit space within. With a swift motion, she hoisted the bag into the trunk, the sound of it landing with a dull thud echoing through the air. The trunk's lid swung shut with a solid clunk, encapsulating the bag in darkness. Danielle's movements were efficient, devoid of hesitation, as she secured the trunk with a sharp click of the lock.

Danielle slid into the driver's seat, the worn leather creaking softly beneath her. She inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine roaring to life with a smooth hum. The dashboard lights flickered on, casting a warm glow over the interior. With a subtle shift of gears, Danielle eased the car into motion, smoothly navigating out of the current location. As she drove, the rhythmic thrum of the engine and the soft whoosh of the tires on the road created a soothing background noise. The scenery outside transitioned from urban bustle to suburban quiet, eventually giving way to the familiar surroundings of her house. Danielle pulled into her driveway, the garage door opening with a quiet rumble to admit her car. She guided the vehicle into its parking spot, the engine's purr growing quieter before she switched it off, plunging the garage into silence.

Danielle stepped out of her car, the garage's dim lighting enveloping her. She moved to the trunk, the sound of the latch releasing echoing through the space. The trunk creaked open, and she grasped the cadaver bag, its vinyl material seeming to sag under the weight of its contents. With a practiced motion, she lifted the bag out and slung it over her shoulder, the weight settling against her. She walked purposefully towards the door that led into her house, her footsteps steady and deliberate. The bag's presence was a constant, unyielding weight against her as she moved through the corridors, the silence of the house absorbing her footsteps. Eventually, she reached the door to the torture room, pushing it open with a quiet creak. The room's sterile smell wafted out, mingling with the garage's scent of oil and concrete. Danielle entered the room, the bag's weight still firmly against her, her movements economical and detached.

Danielle grasped the zipper of the cadaver bag and pulled it down, the sound of the teeth separating echoing through the room. She carefully lifted Banchero out, his limp body sagging against her before she maneuvered him into a sitting position on the chair. His head lolled forward, his chin resting on his chest. With practiced efficiency, Danielle secured his hands behind the chair, wrapping restraints around his wrists and cinching them tight. The chair's wooden frame creaked softly as she worked, the restraints' metal buckles clicking into place. Banchero's body seemed lifeless, but as Danielle stepped back, his head slowly lifted, his eyes fluttering open, taking in his surroundings with growing awareness.

As the hours ticked by, Banchero's foggy mind slowly began to clear. His eyelids fluttered open, and he was met with a dull ache in his head. He tried to move, but his hands were secured behind the chair, and he felt a wave of panic wash over him. As his gaze focused, he saw Danielle sitting calmly in front of him, her eyes fixed intently on his face. Banchero's eyes widened as he took in his surroundings, the sterile room, the chair, and Danielle's composed demeanor. He tried to speak, but his voice came out hoarse and barely audible. He cleared his throat, his eyes locked on Danielle, and spoke again, his voice firmer this time, "What...what do you want?"

The sudden impact of the ice water drenched Banchero, sending a shockwave through his system. The icy liquid cascaded down his body, soaking his clothes and skin, and leaving him gasping for breath. The shock was intense, and Banchero's eyes widened in response, his body tensing against the restraints as he struggled to process the sudden assault. The water dripped from his hair, face, and clothes, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath him. Danielle stood over him, the empty bucket discarded beside her, her expression unreadable as she gazed at Banchero's shocked face.

"What do you want Missy!?"

"Who are you!?" He roared.

Danielle remained silent to the question, her gaze fixed on him.

"Listen little bitch, you better get me out of here or I'll kill you" he said with frustration and anger.

"You can't get up with your hands tied firmly behind your back" she spoke softly.

"Get me out of here! Or?!"

"Or what?"

"Say it or what?"

"You're going to pay Banchero"

Banchero laughed in sarcasm, who was this lady? And why does he want him to pay for something he doesn't know about, he was drenched in confusion.

"You must be very confused young lady" he laughed.

"I don't know what you're saying young lady"

"How am I going to pay for something I don't know?"

Danielle never took her eyes off Banchero, she got up from the chair, and moved to her tray that contained an arm of dangerous weapons, there were arranged in an asymmetrical order; there were daggers, knifes, brass knuckles, pepper sprays, tasers, magnums, glocks, and revolvers.

Danielle searched through her arsenal of weapons, looking for the perfect weapon to inflict pain on Banchero before she makes the proper introduction. She picked up a magnum and gave Banchero an evil grin, she laughed in a

sinistrous way, but she felt like a gun might be too easy, she placed the gun carefully on the tray, she stared at the taser, but felt it was too easy to get the job done. She picked up the brass knuckles and stared at them like a kid staring at her favourite candy, she wore the brass knuckles on both her hands fitted perfectly, she glazed at her fist.

Banchero on the other hand was wondering what was happening, what went wrong? Who's this lady? Why was he here? Is she okay?

Danielle walked up to Banchero with her brass knuckles, she was about to make him beg for his life. Banchero was startled to see what Miss

Asesina had on her knuckles.

Danielle's fist, adorned with brass knuckles, flew towards Banchero's face with sudden force. The metal gleamed in the light as her punch connected, the impact sending Banchero's head snapping back. The sound of the blow was sharp and metallic, and Banchero's cry of pain was immediate. His face contorted in agony as the brass knuckles left their mark, likely causing bruising and swelling. Danielle's expression remained cold and detached as she stood over Banchero, her chest heaving slightly with exertion. The aftermath of the punch hung in the air, the violence of the act starkly evident.

Banchero who was trying to recover from what he received, he knew Danielle didn't come to play.

His heart was beating rapidly, at this point, he knew he was a dead man.

Banchero's face contorted in pain as blood began to trickle from his nose and mouth, the brass knuckles having caused significant damage. The blood flowed steadily, dripping down his chin and onto his shirt, staining the fabric. His eyes welled up with tears as he struggled against the restraints, his body tense with pain and fear. The sound of his labored breathing filled the air, punctuated by soft groans as he tried to endure the agony. Danielle stood over him, her expression unyielding as she observed the aftermath of her violence.

"What do you want from me" he questioned shakily.

"Your life" she responded sharply.

Banchero's eyes shook in disbelief and fear, this woman wanted his life? Who in the world would want Massimo Banchero's life?

Danielle slid her chair closer to Banchero, the legs scraping softly against the floor. She sat down, her eyes locking onto his battered face. The chair was now mere inches from Banchero's knees, the proximity making the space feel suffocating. Danielle leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her thighs, her gaze piercing as she studied Banchero's reaction. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by Banchero's ragged breathing and the faint sound of dripping blood hitting the floor. Danielle's face was a mask of calm, but her eyes betrayed a sharp intensity, as if daring Banchero to speak or move.

Banchero breath was like a tired dragon.

Danielle tinted her head to the right, ready to make the proper introduction.

"I'm Danielle Gonzalez"

Banchero was trying to remember who bore the name 'Gonzalez'. He was stuck on the figuring out who was the husband, mother or daughter of this lady.

After a series of confusion, he finally remembered the man who bore that evil name, no other person than Victor Gonzalez

"Y.. yourrrr… hi…hisss…?" He stammered.

"I am his daughter, and you've been stealing from my dad"

"What do you mean?" he said faintly.

"Ughhh" she said in exasperation getting up from her chair and swinging another punch to his face

Banchero spitting out blood, replied with pain

"Danielle, that's not it but I need to explain something about my business with Victor. We were partners, 50/50, and we both got our supply from Dante. I always made sure to pay my share, and I respected Dante's situation with his sick grandmother and little brother."

"Go on."

"But Victor, he wasn't paying his fair share. He was cheating Dante, and Dante knew it. Dante was scared to confront Victor because he feared for his life. So, Dante started supplying me more than Victor, trying to balance things out."

"And he found out?"

"Yes. He did. And he lost it. He murdered Dante in cold blood, just because he was jealous. I was horrified when I found out. I confronted Victor, and I cut all ties with him. I wanted nothing to do with someone capable of such a cruel act."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to understand that I'm not like Victor. I value loyalty and fairness. And I'm willing to stand up for what's right, even if it means losing business."

"Danielle, I have to tell you something about Victor. He's a master manipulator, and he's trained you to take revenge and do his dirty work."

Danielle: "What are you talking about?"

Banchero: "Don't play dumb, Danielle. I know Victor's tactics. He's using you to get to me, to hurt me and my business. And you're falling right into his trap."

Danielle remained silent.

"Why are you targeting me? What have I done to you?"

"I see. Well, let me tell you something, Danielle. You're not a puppet, you're a person with your own thoughts and feelings. Don't let Victor use you for his own gain."

"Victor's demon, you're a just a stupid little girl, who takes orders from her devil's spawn father!"

He roared in agony spitting on Danielle.

"Kill me and make your father proud"! he cried, his face twisted in agony.

Banchero's words seemed to ignite a fire within

Danielle's eyes blazed with fury as she listened to Banchero's words. She felt a surge of anger and humiliation, and without hesitation, she launched herself at Banchero, her fists flying. The sound of her punches connecting with his battered face was sickening, and Banchero's cries of pain only seemed to fuel her rage. She pummeled him mercilessly, her anger and frustration pouring out with each blow.