°Sweet Dreams° (1)✔️

19. Fight For Me.

What have I done?

The spaces behind my eyes began to burn and I could feel my other half trying its best to consume me.

But I couldn't let it. Not when she was standing only a few meters away.

"Princess." I've never asked for anything from anyone without it being a command. But in this moment I was begging her to confide in me. To trust me.

"Enough. That is enough, Vincent. You take my love for games for granted, and I don't want to play as your 'Princess Peach'. I can't do this anymore. You're gonna have to kill me because the last place I want to go with you is Italy."

Then she was gone. Amari slipped right through my fingers like wine. The reminisce of her stained my skin but all in all she was gone.

Something was bothering her, and it was something bigger than me trying to expose her to Nova.

She makes me crazy. That carefree attitude of hers just triggered something in me to give her the attention she deserved.

How dare she consume my thoughts?

Yet she made me...calm.

I hate what I did. I hate that I thought of hurting her since the first time I met her.

She was right. At first she was just another one of my experiments.

I still haven't been able to forgive myself for the night I cut her open. What scared me was that a small part of me liked the way she screamed in agony. No!

Every time I start to drift off I think of Amari. My whimsical princess.

The satirical smile that brightened her face whenever she joked would warm my cold heart.

But now it had been almost a week and I haven't seen or heard from her since the day at the shop.

I was a bit anxious about having Claire alone with me to give her an injection without Amari there to supervise. Thankfully Claire was able to keep me distracted with headshots of herself she had brung over.

I asked Claire if she'd spoken to Amari, but when she said she hadn't seen her I started to get worried.

Amari usually saw Claire on Sundays for some reason and it was weird that their meetings had stopped.

I started up my car as I left one of my compounds. It had to be around five in the morning and it would've been pitch black outside if it wasn't for the dim streetlights.

My father was the one who started selling drugs and made it into his own empire that led him through high school and then college. He kept the name Rosa Sporca which translated to Dirty Rose which was named after the first strip club he went to when he was 16.

The money was all he cared about, but I personally liked the thought of making the product.

We'd create something that people would pay millions for. I get pleasure from seeing prissy scumbags beg to get a taste of what we're selling.

I rarely get in contact with my father because I didn't see the point. He already hated me.

He knew that I had a hand in stealing money from him to help Violet get away from all of this. It took me an entire year to convince him that I was worthy of running the business in New York, and he's still questioning my ability to do the job.

However, if I could have one less person hating me right now, I'd want that person to be Amari.

"Hey, you've reached my voicemail. That's either because I'm busy or I'm looking directly at my phone waiting for your call to go to voicemail. Okay, bye!"