Chapter 8

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Leonardo's pov: 

One week later

I was always given everything I desired, everything I needed, whenever I wanted. It was alway going my way or my selfish ass would kill. Irritation, frustration, fury, anger and rage was all I knew. Though the most prominent of all was numb. 

Numbness.

I'd been trained in a fucking way that I was numb to pain, numb to whatever was happening in and out of the world. Affection wasn't for me, never. I had parents, of course I did. But, I couldn't call them parents. They were there only for the best parts of my life, only the ones in which I succeeded. Yet, I received no affection.

Nothing, nada, zilch.

But it was fine, I told myself. The mafia heirs aren't given any affection, they're treated with respect, but never any affection. Everyone in the mafia life is alone, miserable, yet some more than the other. But as soon as the curtains open, revealing the media and paparazzi, the fake smile and happy façade comes back on. Where the brutal become kind, the tears of pain become tears of joy, where hate becomes love. It was all a big lie, which not even the bestest of lie detectors could get.

Whatever was happening to other people shouldn't concern me, in our world, selfish people win. It's all a battle on who's more selfish. On who's more lethal, brutal. It hadn't mattered, really, no one fucking mattered. 

Until a few days ago.

The woman laying in bed beside me, sound asleep, unaware of what my brain was thinking was the exception. Somewhere along the way, somewhere between the one week I gave my utmost care, time, respect and space to her, did I realize I found comfort in her. I found comfort in the scent of amber, black leather and deep vanillas, the depths of her I didn't want to leave were dangerous. I'd kept her completely oblivious to this fact.

But I saw it in her eyes. Those dark brown, almost black eyes. The color of the black dahlia, as deep as the ocean, the ones of dark grey cloud filled with tears. She was coated in rebellion, yet, one look at her and you would think she was innocent. 

I'd had continuous background checks on her, the people in her life, her history, everything, yet I found no trace of anything. It was as if it was hidden somewhere deep and secure, practically impossible to reach. She had nightmares every nights, most in which she was begging for something, -someone- to stop. But her pleas were left, as the monster in her dream continued eating her till she couldn't breath. Till all the breath was stolen from her.

I've killed many people, tortured them to the brink of death. But I've never, in my life, had the urge to kill more than I do right now. All I want to do is torture the monsters of Natalia's dreams to the brink of death, till they can't breath anymore. Then, revive them and do it all again.

I look to my right to find her staring at me, right through me. Her eyes unreadable, with an expression I can't quite decipher. 

"Good morning" I mumble. 

She nods at me and gets up to go to the bathroom, I don't guide her a lot anymore since she doesn't quite need it. I get up to get in the bathroom after her, since I've got a meeting with my father and Greek acquaintance in an hour.

"I don't need your help" Natalia's soft voice breaks through. Irritation breaks free through me, -she didn't do anything-, but my temper issues were thinner than a string of hair.

"I wasn't helping you anyway", I say, but it comes out harsher than expected. She doesn't seem to flinch, or do anything, I assume since she's built a sense of comfort around me. 

Except she shouldn't. 

I was a monster, I am a monster, not to be trusted. Was it wrong I found comfort in her too? I found comfort in the person who'd been robbed of sleep by monsters themselves? Yes. It was. But I couldn't give a flying fuck. Neither could I do anything.

After taking a shower, and getting in my new Prada suit, and leave the house. I already instructed the maids to give Natalia her breakfast and attend to her needs.

I enter the conference room, where I already find the Greek's in their positions. The Greek's are a mafia the same power as us, so we've combined our weapons, trades and customs so we can be strong together in case a war comes up. 

The Greek Mafia Boss as of right now is Valentino DeLuca, then his 4 sons: Apollo, Atlas, Valerio & Elias.

Whenever I entered the room for past meetings, I always saw Valentino and his sons laughing, cracking jokes or saw the Mafia princes debating -fighting- on who had more wit and charm.

But right now, they were serious, unlike anything ever happened. The were speaking in low murmured and eye contacts. The tension was so high and suffocating it could only be cut by a knife.

"Valentino, Apollo, Atlas, Valerio, Elias." I greet, nodding my head at them.

They nod back at us, all of them. It was unlike the Mafia Princes to do so, since normally they would just come and launch themselves at me or making ridiculous jokes. I raise my left eyebrow at them, indirectly asking them what was wrong. My father noticed this too, and he too, was confused as he took his seat.

Carefully taking a deep breath, and exhaling. They get straight to the point.

"How much for Natalia" Valentino spits out with half disgust.

A/N:

CLIFFHANGER!

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