𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖𝕤
꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱
･:*:･｡☆･:*:･｡☆
I ended up waking around twelve, feeling still highly exhausted, but I left the house quietly, walking towards my car.
Last night with Luna felt strange and different, the way her body reacted, the way she moaned, the way she looked god. I could never get enough of her.
The way her body reacted to my presence, the way she looked at me, kissed me, made me feel the way she fuckin tasted. She was incredibly sweet, almost like a cherry. She had a cherry aroma to her.
She was flawless in every way. Even the clothing she let me borrow had a cherry scent.
I opened the door to her apartment with my keys. As I stepped inside, my gaze was drawn to Dana. She was fixing a painting that had been on the floor for some time now. I approached her quietly, putting my hands on her hips. She leaps in place, quickly turning around. As soon as she realizes this, she relaxes.
"You scared me," Dana stated, wrapping her arms around my neck as I leaned in for a quick soft kiss.
" mhm," I hum.
"Whose shirt is that?" She asked, brown eyes looking at me.
"Gemma," I muttered, bending down and kissing her again to distract her.
"Was that the reason you didn't come home last night?"
"yeah," I replied, exchanging glances, "she needed help, and I stayed with her."
"Are you staying for the rest of the day?"
"Yeah, I'll be leaving around five o'clock to handle another shipment, but I'll be spending the night with you."
She maintains her frown while rubbing her hands on my shoulder. "I wish your job didn't require you to be out all the time. I miss you."
I kiss her once more, leaning back to catch my breath. "Go pick a movie while I make some popcorn for you."
Dana smiles as she looks up at me. " don't take long."
"I won't lu-love," I say under my breath as I move towards the small, yellow kitchen, hearing her laugh.
fuck.
Why does she seem to be on my mind all the time? She was only good for fucks. I have a girlfriend who is already okay with what I do and loves me.
Despite what has happened in the past between us,
however, Luna
God, her lips, her body, her moans, and her stupid multicolored eyes. Her hands.
I've been dreaming of Luna getting down on her knees and sucking me or letting me taste her again.
so fucking sweet
I walked away from the table and back into the room.
I'm in desperate need of a distraction.
-
It was several hours later, and I was lying in bed. Dana was curled up by my side, soundly asleep, while I glanced at the photo of the two of us on the wall near the mirror.
It was our very first photo together. Who knew that trust would be broken after that day. I felt bad for cheating, but I had a legitimate reason for it.
As my phone rang over and over, I tilted my head to the side. Rolling over to pick it up.
" Hello?" I spoke into the phone, silence lingering for a few moments before hearing Niall's voice on the other end.
"Harry, your father's assistant, called and said he wants a meet with you before midnight strikes." I sat up in bed, furrowing my brows.
"What is it about?" I inquired.
I've had Niall as my assistant since I was sixteen years old; he was the same age as me, but he was someone I trusted with my life. If I needed something, I could count on Niall to be there quickly and faithfully.
"She didn't give me much information, just that it's about the family business," I nodded, although he couldn't see me quickly getting out of bed.
"Call my driver and tell him to come pick me up," I order, looking for my clothes.
"Of course, anything else."
"No, Niall, thank you." I hung up, tossed my phone to the bed, and put on the same Nirvana shirt. Cherry scented air filled my nostrils, reminding me of her.
"Where are you going?" I turn my head to the side, watching as she raises the blue blanket to cover her naked body.
"Meeting with my father," she frowns as she crawls towards me.
"Harry, you said you were going to spend the night. It's only eight o'clock." She murmured as she looked at the clock on the nightstand.
I sigh, "I know." "However, I need to see what my father wants." I stood up, grabbed the gun from the nightstand, and tucked it into my pants.
"Did I do something wrong? Are you still upset about what happened?"
"not at all. Dana, it's been five months, and I don't care." She remains silent, her gaze fixed on her hands.
"I'm not sure what's wrong.. you're always fucking working."
"It's my job, Dana." I was standing in front of her, looking down. "Our relationship will not be perfect after that... there has been broken trust, but other than that, nothing is wrong; I need to do my job."
"But I apologized. Harry, I'm sorry. Why can't you stay home whenever you want?" She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her belly. "I miss you. I want to spend some time with you, Harry."
"I'd take time off if I could, but I'm doing so much crap right now. Accepting shipments, sending shipments, negotiating with people, and managing a club are all part of the job."
"Alright. Fine, will you come home later today?"
"It depends on when I leave." I approached her, annoyed by the number of questions she was asking. I knelt and pecked her swollen lips.
"Goodbye."
"Bye, I love you," she muttered against my lips before I stood up and walked out of the room, grabbing my phone.
My father's house was a long drive away, considering he lives in the middle of fucking nowhere. But I got there in the end, in complete silence. Only thinking about two things.
He found out about the day at my club and a specific someone.
The guards nodded as I walked inside, the house empty as usual. Since my mother left, his home has appeared to be deserted. Dull.
When she left, my father removed all of the decorations she had put up, claiming that they made the house look 'cheap,' leaving it almost empty or with costly vases and sculptures.
I walked down the dark, cold corridor towards his office, knocking several times until one of his security opened the door.
"Harry," my father says as I walk in, looking at the security guard, who stood firm with his hands folded across his chest and a heavy stare. He was dressed professionally and stood near the door, two guns visible on his hip.
"you wanted to meet?" I say while sitting on the chair directly in front of his long wooden desk, papers scattered everywhere.
"Yes," he says, sending me one of his famous smiles, a smile that fools many into thinking he's a promising man and has fantastic news. But I've known him for too long to know that darkness was lurking behind that smile. "First and foremost, I'd like to state that you... disobeyed me."
"No, I didn't," I say firmly, giving him the same dark, stern look. My father takes a seat and grabs a cup of liquor—white moon whiskey.
"You did, indeed." His voice was thick and husky, my jaw clenched, and I was already irritated by the way he spoke to me. My father has a unique way of communicating with others and attempting to frighten them away, gaining respect.
Nobody has ever disrespected him because they are too afraid of the ramifications of what he might do. After all, he doesn't hold back, and he won't hesitate to kill you. He will not think twice about making your life a living hell.
It brings him joy, as he makes people miserable. He aspires to be the ruler of the entire planet.
"What did I do?" I lean back in my chair, reaching into my pocket for a cigarette. My father fixed his gaze on me, carefully folding his hands on the table.
"Harry, don't smoke in my office."
"I don't have the whole day, Giovanni; I have a shipment to pick up later today." He huffs out a breath, his dark brown eyes piercing mine.
"Did you have to strike the caddels, son?" A smirk tugged upon my lips as I realized what this meeting was about.
"He's Fine."
"Harry, you almost killed him. Do you want to go to war with the caddels?" He screams at me. As he stands up, his face turns red, and he is now standing in front of me.
I also stood up, our heights nearly identical, I was slightly taller, but we both looked at each other in the eyes, breathing deeply. "You can't push me around any longer, Giovanni."
"Really?" He laughs and pushes me back, and I stumble backward, trying to regain my balance. "I'll fucking kill you, Harry. You're not my only fucking child; I'll have Gemma run this fucking mafia for me; after all, she's already married."
My body erupted in rage, and all I could see was red. I lowered my head as I clutched Giovanni's shirt. "Gemma isn't going to be involved in the family business," I muttered through my teeth as someone yanked me away, pushing me down to the ground.
I fell on my knees, a rugged grip on my shoulder keeping me down, as a gun pointed at my head. "you can't even fucking fight. Your security will not always be there for you."
After a few moments of silence, my father's fist repeatedly strikes on my face; the gun still placed to my head and someone holding me down. "Harry, do you want to keep talking?"
He laughs, my head snapping to the side repeatedly as he tries to give even punches. I allowed my father to use me as a punching bag, blood streaming down my face as he split my healed cuts open.
"Listen to me, Harry," he says as he grabs my shirt and pulls me to my feet.
"I don't want to hear another word from you while you're sitting down on that chair. You're exactly like your mother, you useless scumbag. fucking useless."
Tilting my head away from my father, I spit out blood, watching it fall onto his clean white floors before pushing him away. If we were alone right now, I would easily fight back; my father isn't strong on his own.
He's a complete and utter waste of time.
Always have been, always will be.
He walked behind me, still standing up. "You start wars with any of the fucking families, and I promise you'll be the first one dead."
I'd like to see him try.
My father reappears in front of me, sitting in his chair. Wiping the blood from his knuckles, looking up at me with pride, "I finally found out who you're going to marry," his voice was profound and harsh while he fixed his dark brown hair.
I took out another cigarette and watched it light up in flames.
I wish I could see him burn alive.
"Given her background, she was a difficult girl to catch." Rolling down his crimson button-up, my father says.
"Is she not a member of a mafia family?"
I knew an arranged marriage was taking place since I was a small child because it had happened to my mother and previous family members. Is it known to occur lots of times? This usually occurs when one family owes another something or two families want to join the mafia together.
I knew it would happen to either Gemma or me, and I'm glad it's occurring to me. I always try to keep Gemma away from anything related to our family mafia, except Galas, which she is compelled to attend.
I wasn't bothered by the fact that I was going to marry someone because, at the end of the day, after a few months, maybe a few years, they'd 'leave unexpectedly,' like my mother.
" she was. Well, her family was. They owe a lot of money, and their business is in shambles, and they believe that because they don't have any more money, they don't have to pay me back, although it's been years."
"What's the point of bringing someone into the family who doesn't have any extra income?"
"Because they have valuable assets, including land in their country and million-dollar investments in their family, plus they tried to provoke a war with us, and their daughter is a beautiful young woman who, with a little training and manipulation, would be ideal for you."
" When will I meet her?" I gritted my jaw and sat up straight, putting out the cigarette.
"Monday night," my father says as he rummages through his papers and pulls out a yellow folder.
"This is everything you need to know about her, as well as my expectations for the relationship. both of you will sign a contract, and I anticipate neither of you to do anything unless you wish to suffer the consequences."
I took the folder from his rough wrinkly hands, looking down at the name written in a script that was nearly impossible to understand. I recognized it as my father's handwriting because I was accustomed to it as a child. My eyes widen as I read the name, again and again, my heart racing and my blood turning cold. And for a split second, I thought my heart had stopped beating as silence ran through the room, ringing in my ear like there was a bomb in my head about to explode any minute now.
Luna Miller