Read "Queen of the Empire" first!!!! This is the second book of the Rossi mafia series.
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Liam
One month has passed since the night.
One month has gone by filled with tears and grief.
His heart was shattered to the point of no return. All of the...
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One month and one week since the night
I don't think that killing people is easy. Nor do I think it is a good thing. But I've never felt better than the morning after killing Vlad.
After I had opened my eyes, I felt this strange calm. I could barely turn in any way because of the wound in my chest and I could barely walk because of how injured my foot was. However, regardless of the pain, I felt at ease.
Even now, almost one week later, the physical pain from that night still lingers but the calm is still there. I think the main reason for that had to be the fact that he was a person that abused me. He hurt me, used me, threw me around like a damn bag of potatoes. And now, he was dead.
I watched the news the next morning after it happened and as I sipped on my coffee, I couldn't help but admire the work I managed to do. And the icing on the cake was that no one knew it had been me to do this. I could just imagine Liam's or my father's face as they watched the news, probably mesmerized by the fact that someone was able to kill him that easily.
Of course, I knew his family members had to know it was me. And I was sure Luca knew it too. But I doubted any of them would make it public. It was too risky since if they caught me (which was a massive if), they could use me for whatever schemes they desired to perform against my family.
Throughout the week I couldn't even think about what Valentina did. How in the hell couldn't she just shoot him? Why couldn't she just save me the scars and pain?
But I didn't confront her. As much as I found it very suspicious, she was my only hope of escaping Russia. But I did make a mental note to keep most things to myself instead of talking to her. I guess I lost some of the trust she and I had been building and even if I hoped that this was just my imagination trying to form reasons why to not trust her, there should be a reason behind her acting this way.
As I walked out of my small bedroom, I noticed her sitting on the dark brown couch right by the front window.
The house was surprisingly comfortable. Considering the fact that I didn't leave it since we came here, it was comfortable. The place had two small bedrooms, one bathroom and a small kitchen with a joined living room.
The kitchen didn't have anything fancy apart from an old white fridge, a microwave and a stove with a sink right next to it. There was a small window above the stove that looked out on the relatively small garden outside. I imagined the beauty of that view if those flowers weren't completely dead and dried out.
Right against the wall where the fridge was pushed against, stood a dark wood table with three lighter wood chairs. There was nothing on top beside a small vase which was chipped at the very top and had nothing inside.
The living room had a couch, a small table on one side and a dead plant on the other. There was no TV, no computer, apart from our own, and barely any light. There was a single light bulb inserted in the middle of this joined room. During the nights, we'd have to light candles to see better as we made something to eat or just looked through our computers.
