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ONE YEAR LATER

I sat gloomily on a bar stool drinking excessively while feeling pathetic, disgusted and stupid about myself, how could I have been so foolish? How could I let something like that happen? Lucio was right no one will ever love me like he does, who am I kidding he never even loved me.

I laugh bitterly at my pathetic self, why am I still alive? I thought bitterly I'm tired of living I want to die, he should have killed me along with Lucio, one long fucking year in misery!.

Not only that, I should have known because she stopped taking my calls, I wrote to her explaining my situation hoping she would visit me, but it never happened, she didn't even care to write back to me, I'm not even sure if she read or even receive any of my letters heck I shouldn't have gone back after what happened the first time.

I was so determined, but I knew something was wrong. What the fuck was I thinking? I wasn't even thinking all I wanted was happiness, but all I got was disappointment and humiliation if I could turn back the time I would've stayed home, I felt my eyes got watery I blinked the tears away no more crying!

I drank the liquor from the glass in one gulp taking a last puff from the cigarette I then throw it in the ashtray and placed a few hundred dollars on the table getting off the bar stool I stumbled, but I quickly recovered I then walked out of the bar.

As I step outside the cool air hit my face, blowing my hair backwards the street was empty no human being in sigh nor any taxi just my luck I hissed my teeth and impatiently walk away.

I walk for about ten minutes refusing to go any further I stood in front of a closed café, my head, my feet, my whole body is aching in pain and my phone battery is dead so screw fucking me.

I'm standing here in the same spot fifteen minutes later I groaned in pent-up frustration and pain I just want to go home. I felt a presence behind me. I turned around and standing behind me is a figure in a hoodie and face mask I then felt something sharp pressed against my stomach I look down to see him holding a knife at my stomach his hand was shaking.

"Hand the over the bag," he says in a low dangerous voice that didn't even scare me.

I tightly held on to my Hermes Birkin bag over my dead body will I hand it over he must've realized I was not going to hand it over he grabbed it and got a good grip he tugs it, but I was holding onto it tightly and I'm watching the knife in his hand I punched his arm and the knife fell so he bit my hand and I let out a scream and my grip loosen he got the bag before he could run off I kicked him in his knee I heard a crack he let out a loud scream, and he fell to ground withering in pain maybe it's broken over my dead body will not let some inexperienced thief rob me I picked up my bag that fell from his hand

"pas celui-ci baiseur," I say (not this one fucker)

"Didn't your mom teach you not to take things that aren't yours?" a very familiar Italian voice said which makes me froze, it couldn't be my heart was beating but I refuse to look at the person, the guy was then lifted by his shirt he was struggling in the death grip the person held him in, he's then thrown across the street he fell flat on his face, I look at him intensely blood was running, and it seems like he's not breathing I finally look up at the muscular figure that was standing in front of me.

I let out a high pitch scream as I saw who it was Zathrian De Castillo I'll never forget a face and voice that has haunted me for a year I can identify him anywhere from any angle I know this guy like I know my name.

I backed away in fear my hands are getting sweaty, my heart started beating so fast, my legs are shaking I felt as if they're about to give up on me, he started walking towards me, I gulped this guy is a fucking maniac he is capable of many things.

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