Freak In You (18+)

2| Speak Of The Devil

♱Recommended song: Karma by Summer Walker♱

"You just got lucky," I said, reluctantly sitting in the helicopter flying over the familiar city.

Vincent only laughed, irritating me further in the process, "It's okay to admit that you lost," he said, and I practically felt my face burn with annoyance.

I don't lose.

"Again you got lucky," I bit out, crossing my arms over my chest as I turned to face the glass door completely.

I swear if three more men didn't join in then I would've won, which is exactly why he got lucky.

"You act like where we're going is the absolute worst place on earth," Vincent joked, clearly still amused over this entire situation.

Technically, the Saint's quarters are far from terrible.

It's actually a highly maintained area that spans numerous blocks of New Orleans. There are clubs, restaurants, schools, grocery stores—you name something and it's there.

It's also the Saint's territory, meaning any other rival mafia is forbidden to step foot on their ground without facing consequences.

I shrugged, "There are better places to be—like fucking Milan for example," I bit out, clearly still pissed off over the fact that he just up and moved me.

Honestly, I've stayed at the Saint's primary estate where only the top members stayed—leaving the others to stay at the houses planted on the streets of the outlined territory—the primary estate's architecture unsurprisingly beats Milan's without even a glance.

And while it's all much nicer and significantly more protected where I'm going, I knew I wouldn't have my own freedom, and that only lit a defying fire within me.

It felt like I was being forced back into my own life—even if my family wasn't head of the mafia, they still were second in command, which meant they had to be just as protective over me and Vincent. 

The moment I turned eighteen, I was granted freedom—so long as I did check in's and visited back for holidays and annual training.

I had openly agreed to forfeit my ties to the mafia, leaving me on the outside of the dangerous bubble where I belonged.

Then again, it's not like I was ever that involved from the start—the most I did was training.

It was whenever I turned eighteen that I could choose to be involved, and even though I chose not to be, I still got to attend certain events with the Saints along with some holiday dinners.

I let out a dramatic sigh as we approached the familiar helipad extended off of the large estate.

Vincent shook his head with a smile, "You're being so fucking dramatic," he said, allowing a laugh to leave his lips.

I gave him a narrowed look, "I'm dramatic until I suffocate you in your sleep," I said as the helicopter began descending.

Vincent gave me a sarcastic smile, "Aw, love you too Lundy," he said, nudging me playfully, which only earned an eye roll from me.

I seriously can't wait to get out of this helicopter and far away from him.

"I hope both sides of your pillow are warm tonight," I said to Vincent, climbing out of the helicopter behind two of the men.

Vincent scoffed dramatically, "What an evil thing to wish on someone," he said as he stepped out behind me.

I was about to counter back with something else but quickly paused when the men around us suddenly tensed up into a guarded stance, signaling only one thing.