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"And I am the idiot with a painted face"

I stepped up closer to the mirror and my hand went up to my neck and face stroking it with tears threatening to coat my face.

I wasn't upset or crying because of the bruises or the violence. I mean yeah, his violence scared the crap out of me.

But I was sad.

I was sad that no matter how bad Antonio hurt me, I would always love him.

I was sad that no matter how bad Antonio hurt me, I would always love him

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"Jesus. What is taking her so long?" I heard Antonio mumble as I slowly treaded lightly down the stairs wishing the stairs could swallow me whole.

Antonio wanted breakfast with me. He always ate his meals with me. He made me dress up super fancy and had his chefs cook a gourmet meal and he took it very seriously.

In his line of work and in his culture, family meals were very important. You had to be dressed, washed, and respectful.

That is why I was dreading coming face to face with the devilishly handsome monster. He would be pissed off to see how casual I was dressed for a meal so important to him.

I continued to walk down the long and spiraling steps when I saw a peak of Antonio.

His broad back was turned and facing me and might I just say he looked really good. Better than me.

He was clad in a dark blood red crimson suit and his once messy black hair was gelled back. He had on a whole lot of Rolexes on his wrist.

I could see the diamonds shining from afar.

I also caught a whiff of his signature woody scent from being about twenty feet apart.

He had on a Valentino Garavani Upraise calfskin derby which looked highly polished and clean.

I stared at his outfit and looked down on mine.

It was funny how when I was young my family never ate together. I was after all the only child. And my dad would eat his breakfast in the living room.

My mom would eat in her bedroom with a random silk robe on.

And I would eat in the basement with a strange ugly sweater that I'd just throw on that had been found in the deep end of my pile of dirty clothes splattered all over the ground.

Now, I had to be fully washed before breakfast and dressed like a queen. I had to eat at a large table with an all-you-can-eat buffet like it is thanksgiving every day with my sexy yet terribly abusive husband.

What an upgrade.

I sighed as I looked down at my plain outfit.

I looked like a homeless wreck.

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