The Executioner

For the world, she's already dead. Sold away at a young age, erased by a lie so perfect no one questions it. Tortured and forged into a weapon-silent, deadly, unstoppable. Now, she moves like a ghost through a world that doesn't want her to exist. But someone is watching. A shadow slipping through cracks she didn't know were there. Invisible, relentless. He knew her before the darkness claimed her. Before she became what she is now. He left once-when she was still a broken girl who dared to dream. But now he's back. Waiting. Watching. Wanting. She hates him. She doesn't understand him. But he's been waiting for this moment-to find her, to claim her, to burn down everything that made her this way. But she's not that lost girl anymore. And she's not sure she wants to be found.

They say the world is loud-full of color, chaos, love, and meaning. But for some of us, it's quiet. Deafeningly quiet. A stillness that seeps into your bones, turning your blood cold and your soul numb. Loneliness isn't just an emotion. It becomes a place, a prison. And I've lived there most of my life.

In this world, kindness is a myth, and innocence is currency-easily stolen and never returned. You either get swallowed whole, or you learn to bite back.

Killing is easy. It always has been.

The first time, I thought I'd feel something-guilt, regret, maybe even relief. But I felt nothing. Not a whisper of emotion. And that nothingness? It stayed. Like a shadow stitched into my skin. Murder isn't personal; it's a task, a job, a responsibility. I don't hesitate, I don't question, and I sure as hell don't regret.

My name is Mira Maroni, daughter of Lorenzo Maroni-once one of the most feared names in the underworld. But titles mean nothing when you're sold like property.

When I was eleven, my father traded me to the Syndicator-the most ruthless criminal syndicate the world has ever seen. Human trafficking. Drugs. Sex slavery. Assassinations. You name it, they've done it. And me? I was their payment. A pawn for power. A disposable girl in a world built on blood and secrets.

For the world, Mira Maroni died in a car accident. That's the lie my father sold. A funeral with no body. A name carved on a tombstone to cover up the truth: he gave me away. Not to protect me. To erase me.

The Syndicator didn't just take me. They remade me.