𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 - Vivienne White, a nineteen year old with a reputation to be ahold off, is expected to marry Leonardo Anderson - the CEO and secret Don of the French Mafia. She discovers unusual and mysterious secrets, only to find out...
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Maybe it's time for me to kill Will for good. He deserves so much torture. Just like he did with me. Fucking torture me.
We said we're friends after the breakup, then a year later he goes and rapes me. Who the fuck does that?
I didn't do any shit to him. I don't even know what the fuck I did, but someone may know about what he did to me. Someone could be playing along to try get me to be murdered. Sacrificed. Dead.
But who? Who the fuck could be under it?
✮
Will's been ever so distant with me. I don't know what the fuck I did, of course. It's always me. He made me feel like a person for once.
When we end up at parties, I end up blackout drunk, he ends up being the sober driver and helps me into the house. Next thing I know, I'm seeing fucking stars and moaning his name.
I don't know why our worlds together haven't collided just yet. It's so hard to imagine us not being together.
I stare at the local coffee shop walls, the abstract, minimalistic paintings vibrant from the cozy area I'm in, sipping an Iced Coffee.
My father didn't want me at home. He's too caught up with work, flying across states, him never visiting me. Everyone's drifting. Except Cora, she's always here.
"Vivienne?" A random voice spoke, a familiar but dark tone. My eyes drift from the wall back to my laptop, then to the person.
Will.
"Will?" I manage to stutter out, flabbergasted by his existence. I didn't think he'd be here. He's always out. Never having time for me nowadays.
"What're you doing here alone? I told you not to fucking go out without me." He groans, slipping himself into a chair, sulking as he sinks deeper into the fabric.
The fucking audacity.
"Who decided that?" I scoff, leaning back on the back of the leather booth, my heel lifted from the floor to cross over my other leg.
"I did. Let's go home." He scowls, gripping my wrist, but not secure enough for me to slip my hand out of.
"I don't want you to be like my father, Will. You're acting just like him right now. Have you drunk or something?" I cautiously reply, trying to forget about his voice and tones.
"I'm not fucking high, Vivienne." He smashes a glass, chucking it onto the floor, making me flinch.
"Can we please not do this now? You're different from the person I met when we went out for our first date, and, you weren't even suppose to meet me after the breakup." I plead, trying to stop him from smashing the whole coffee shop down.
