Damien
I hated these kinds of events. Instead of using this money to put criminals behind bars, these idiots were sitting here eating away government funds with stupid galas, game drives, and other nonsense. It was maddening. I roughly undid my tie, my patience running thin. Where the heck was my partner? He had disappeared on me twenty minutes ago. Scanning the crowd for him, I saw someone coming my way and immediately squashed the scowl on my face.
"Agent P, come on this way, come on this way. The Minister of Crime and Defense wants to meet you," my former station commander said to me. He was one of the idiots. I don't even know why I worked under him for so many years. Yes, I was a policeman, and now I'm a ghost who assumes many roles. I have countless identities, but my real name is Damian Falcone. Here, I'm known as Agent P, a man with a mask who destroys corrupt officials and other criminals. I do not chase petty thieves but target the big guns of the city—those who hide their disgusting crimes and ugly faces in the shadows.
"Hello," I said respectfully, outstretching my hand to shake his. Just as I expected, the bastard didn't take my hand. He thinks he's better than me. Ha! I internally scoffed but maintained my calm and polite smile. This line of work required me to act this way. At least I had enough dirt against them to ensure my killing of these bastards wouldn't be considered a crime but a mercy—eliminating monsters who ruin our society.
"Tsk, he looks quite average. What is the hype about him again?" the so-called defense minister asked.
Doing a job you can't, I retorted in my mind.
My station commander laughed and said to the minister, "Don't worry. He may look average, but he's quite the man in the field. Out of all the agents, he's the only one with such a high success rate." Then he turned to me and added, "Quickly apologize to the minister for your lack of charisma and presence."
I clenched my fist and did as told. "I am sorry. I will do better next time," I said through gritted teeth. These motherfuckers had too big a stick up their asses to notice how forced my words were.
"Alright, alright, let's go. I heard there was a famous lawyer you wanted to introduce me to," the minister said dismissively, shaking his hand and turning his back to me.
"Goodbye," I muttered as they walked away with their gleeful, idiotic smiles. Who wants to meet an idiot of a minister? Tsk. They're lucky he's not on my list, or I'd be there to bite his head off. I straightened my hunched posture, my shoulders broadening. I was getting sick of this place. A gala for high-end officials in the police industry to flaunt their power while bullying the newbies, all while failing to clean the streets of this city.
If they had done their jobs properly, I wouldn't have been forced to assume so many identities to get revenge. Yes, revenge. It happened seven years ago. My mother and I had been living alone my whole life. She didn't want to talk about my father, and I respected that. Because of the poor living conditions and the constant bullying we were exposed to—from loan sharks abusing their power to my mom's work colleagues acting inappropriately toward her—I promised her I would become a policeman. A month after joining the force, my mother died, and so did the twin brother I didn't even know I had. I was 24 at the time, and strange men appeared at my house. Behind them was my paternal grandfather. He asked me if I wanted revenge, and I said no. I would bring the people to justice through my job at the local police station. He laughed at me and made me a bet.
"If you win, I will give you my entire fortune and hand over the family business to you," he said with a light smile—a smile I couldn't fathom belonged to the most notorious mafia leader in the city.
"And if you lose, you must join the family. You will leave your identity as Damian Falcone, Don's twin, and become Don Vincenzo de Luca himself. I have covered up his death; nobody knows where he is right now," he said. I could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes, but for all I knew, it could have been fake.
"I don't want anything from you," I spat.
"If I win, just stay the hell out of my life. I don't want anything to do with you," I added, then turned and left. They had abandoned me long ago. Though my mom never told me much, she confided in her friends, and as a nosy kid, I listened in. I wanted to know why she was always crying, why she kept saying I was half of the reason she was living. What about the other half? Then I found out. My father and mother had an affair. My father was already married, but they still got together. Unfortunately, my mother became pregnant, and as punishment, the De Luca family took her child. What they didn't know was that my mom had twins—me and another baby. It took them more than 20 years to find out, and by then, my mom and her other son were dead.
In order to avenge them, I worked tirelessly for two years, finding proof and connecting the dots. Just as I was about to uncover the killer, everything disappeared—my evidence, my hard work, and soon, my identity.
Someone betrayed me at the police station, and I lost it all. Because of that, I lost the bet. My paternal grandfather came back. Henry De Luca, a man feared by many. He didn't threaten me into doing this; I chose it myself. He gave me one new identity: Don Vincenzo De Luca. Along with that, I assumed five other identities to execute my plan.