𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 || ✍︎︎

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

♬ Love Lockdown - Kanye West

☆彡

Oh, fuck.

My jaw clenches as I light up the cigarette before taking a drag, my mind astray as I lean back in my seat.

'If this wasn't a dream, there's no way you would take care of me like this.'

'Never, ever.'

And she was right, too. It wasn't in my nature to take care of someone, especially someone I'm not supposed to give a fuck about.

I don't know what's happening to me, but I need it gone.

I can't allow myself to get distracted by shit like this, it won't bring me any profits to get even more involved with an arranged wife.

Especially her.

As hard as I try to concentrate on the stack of papers sitting in front of me, I can't think about anything else.

Without thinking, I dial my brother's number before holding the phone up to my ear. "What's up?"

"Give me all the information you can get about Celestine," I say, my tone abrupt as the line goes silent.

It's one of the few things Roman is good for. As much as he lacks common sense, he's surprisingly good at getting information or leverage on people.

"Why would you even— you know what? I'm not even gonna question it."

After ending the phone call, I toss my phone on my desk and take a sharp breath as I rise from my chair, putting the cigarette out before heading towards the door.

★★★

"Is this seriously what I'm working with today?" I cock my head at the man who's currently tied to a wooden chair, screaming and using every ounce of his energy trying to break out of the ropes.

I don't understand why people would want their last moments to be wasted by doing this, why not enjoy your last breaths?

Roman needs this guy dead, and It's been a while since I've killed someone. Sounds like a fair deal to me. I didn't question why he deserves death, I don't care enough to.

It's not like I'm addicted to killing, but when you blur a person's childhood with nothing but torture and blood, they become drawn to the concept.

The abused becomes the abuser.

Except I feel the need to hurt people who simply don't deserve it, I hurt people who don't deserve the privilege of breathing.

I lazily pluck the knife from the small table as I near the man, who's panicking now more than ever.

It makes me wonder if Celestine has ever deliberately hurt someone, whether they deserved it or not.

Judging by what Roman found, and how her father treats her— she had pretty much the same childhood as me.

His screams fall against deaf ears as I drag the knife from his shoulder to his wrist, watching crimson coat the floor, as well as my hand.

She had lived a miserable life, grown up to be a law student, indulged in some toxic relationships, and was living under her father's roof until the engagement.

"PLEASE! I— I have a wife!" He wails as I pull the knife out of his thigh, "So do I, you want a sticker?" I drawl, flashing my ring in front of his face.

She doesn't strike me as a person who'd hurt others though. But then again, when I first saw her I didn't think she'd have such a smart mouth either.

I guess it's better than having someone you could easily step all over, I'm starting not to hate the fact that she's a challenge.

A puzzle I seem to solve.

I let out a sigh as I carve the letters "C.A." on his other arm. She's entertaining for the time being, but in the long term? Never.

"You're starting to bore me, let's get this over with." I press the knife to his throat and he suddenly goes quiet, shaking his head while looking at me with pleading eyes. "M-My wife's pregnant." He whispers. 

People tend to start about their lives when they're on the brink of death, it's a way of humanizing themselves so they're no longer just prey- but a whole life.

And it kills me to say that I think it may be working. 

I blink twice before pulling my phone out of my pocket and going to Roman's contact before calling him. "What did he do," I say as soon as he picks up.

"Who— Oh. He used to work with me until I found out from his wife herself that he beats and rapes her almost every single night. My methods aren't cruel enough to take matters into my own hands."

And that's all it takes for me to look the man straight in the eye and slash his throat.

☁︎︎☽

I don't get left speechless very often, it's always me scaring the other person. Never the other way around.

This might just be an exception.

And I would've never expected him to have stunned me— my father.

My father had always made it his life's goal to make me miserable, he tried everything, and I mean every-fucking-thing. The same goes for Roman, he would do unspeakable things to both of us.

My mother didn't know about it, she was blinded by love, and the day she found out what he had been doing along with her daughter's death, she wiped away the concept of love from her brain and raised us that same way.

"Love will get you nowhere, it is nothing but a twisted curse. Love does not strengthen us, it weakens, and we are not weak."

After all the troubles she had gone through to be with him, she was in pieces. They were both from dangerous families, who also happened to be each other's sworn enemies since he was Russian and hers was Italian.

But they were in love.

He called me today, and it wasn't exactly the definition of father-son bonding time. He has always been after my possessions, his new goal being to take all of my financial assets.

'We are coming for your wife. We will take every single thing from you until you agree."

I doubt that he could, but the thought of him taking someone else from me still managed to get into my head.

No one took what was mine.

After the separation, the man I once called my father wanted me to choose him over my mother, he said he had made me and Roman the very best versions of ourselves and needed to put it to good use.

Ivan Oslov was a menace. I would never choose him in a million years.

Now we're enemies, he wants me to sign over everything I have and he seems to be willing to do anything for it, even kill my wife.

And all of this means that I have to tell her, and god knows what her reaction might be.

🝮
-𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.