Which name do you prefer? Atticus or Nico? I love both so much and I can't decide. Atticus gives me such daddy vibes and Nico gives me such boyfriend vibes. Help a girl out...
C A T A L I N A
"Do you promise to never leave me no matter what." His calloused hands cradled my face as he stared me deep in my eyes, a lone tear dragging down his face.
"I promise, no matter what. Just don't hurt me too bad."
Like a moth to a flame, I was attracted the very thing that could kill me. The creation of my destruction.
The potential of surrendering to my pain and misery so that I'd be absolutely nothing. Id let it consume me whole and wrap around my skin like a hug except for the fact that it is anything but a hug.
Its suffocating.
Like having a plastic bag held over your head to restrict air flow. To rid you of all your senses so much so that you begin to panic and fight to breathe.
So that your nervous system enters a state of fight or flight.
I'm not fully surrendering to the pain if I don't let it kill me, right?
If I'm fighting to breathe then maybe I don't want to die.
Maybe I want to be reborn.
I wish so badly to skip past this part of my life— like skipping to the good part of a song.
I wish thats how life worked.
You have to sit through the bad part of the song and you'll get to the good part.
After all, the song wouldn't be whole without the bad part. And the good part of the song wouldn't mean as much without the bad part.
Maybe this chapter of my life is what makes my existence so meaningful. I'm reminded of how deeply I can feel which only supports the fact that I'm a sweet, sensitive, and caring girl.
A girl who loves with her entire heart and nothing less, only more.
What is art if it wasn't my love for him?
To devote myself to him like religion is perhaps the biggest risk taken on this earth.
I have been walking in circles, literally and metaphorically. I have tried to wrap my head around what no longer exists in the grasp of my hands but the memory of my mind and the only thing that can truly comfort me is my imagination.
A separate world where there is us.
A world where I can look Lorenzo in the eyes with nothing but admiration and love and passion. I had the whole world beneath my fingertips yet it only meant something when I had him.
He had become the lighthouse in a vast sea, the only light in the darkness of night.
This wasn't healthy. Not for me, at least.
☁️
My stilettos click in an even, metronome-like beat as I walk down the pavement, the appearance of new droplets appearing every second.
Every time the heel of stilettos would hit the ground, my eyes would cast on a newfound droplet of rain that decorated the dull coloured sidewalk.
Leo is on the side where the street is, his arm holding an umbrella above me as we look for a black BMW.
"You can't let your emotions get in the way, Cat," Leo suddenly speaks out, interrupting me from the intensity of my thoughts.
I opt to remain silent instead of saying something that would hurt both of our feelings.
"Tell me what you're thinking before your girl brain makes you spiral even more."
Shh, Leo.
His babbling even made me wince, and I'm a heck of a yapper.
"I see the car, it's the right license plate," my strides become wider until I reach the BMW. I lightly tap on the fully tinted window with my cherry red nails, waiting for the driver we hired for the night to drop us off at our next location.
Leo opens the door for me before getting in on the other side. The both of us sit in silence as my eyes admired the bright lights that illuminated the beautiful city we were in: Paris.
"I don't care how powerful my connections are, I'm not doing that, Leo. Never in a million years. I would rather die before I betray myself that way," my voice was thick and hoarse as I held back a sob.
I've grown a lot. In ways I would have never dreamed of changing... but I'm still the same girl I always was. The same little girl with the same sensitive heart that was too soft for my own good.
"We need to think quick then, I don't want to find you with your head in a box."
He was being harsh because he was scared, he didn't want to lose me.
☁️
We were taking a small private plane into a country that I never wanted to step foot in.
I had bags ready for me at a small cabin in Positano, a small city in Italy.
Ever since I've taken the French mafia into my own hands, I've been beyond careful to keep my identity hidden as I'm not sure if there is a certain someone's father who still wants me dead.
I was in my own room in the cabin, my body and mind restless as I hugged my knees to my chest to gain a sense of comfort. Captain Rogers and Mr Chubs were tucked beneath my neck, snuggling me into a deeper state of silent peace.
In another reality I am not a girl but a bunny. A white bunny that is snuggled into a ball, enjoying my first snow, and jumping up and down and happy.
I have surrendered to life. I feel as though this is a crucial point in one's life— to surrender that is; from time to time, to rest, to watch life pass by you as if it is something that does not belong to you and does not return to you
God, I'm thinking of a million things, wishing and hoping my brain would simply shut off for the night and allow me a rest that I believe I deserve.
Slowly but surely, I eventually fall into a sleep that is rooted in serenity.
☁️
Two weeks in Italy had went by doing jobs under the radar that continued to build the name of the French mafia. We didn't deal drugs or kill innocents, I would never reap benefits of tainted money.
Nobody knew who was leading the French mafia after the death of my Father. I had met him before he died right in front of my eyes exactly three months ago. The traumatic turn of events is what helped me step into this business and turn it around.
I want my name to be a secret, a rumour.
Thus, I'd stay under the radar just as that.
Now I was making my way into the best rooftop bar in the city, the sounds of loud voices singing along to the music that vibrated the ground I walked on making me internally wince.
I was here for a job— a job much too personal for my own liking.
A job to kill.
My eyes quickly scanned the rooftop and filtered through the bodies clad in thirty thousand euro suits and bedazzled dresses.
Ah.
My heart stutters at the sight of a familiar face.
Oh, how I missed him.
How I missed those coloured eyes that so easily admired me, those lips that so carefully kissed my visage...
Enough.
Focus, bad Cat.
He was talking to a woman that had jumbo curls sitting perfectly at her ninety degree angled shoulders.
The corners of her lips twitched upwards in a smile as his face remained impassive of any emotions, reminding me much of the man I had met in the first chapter of my life.
The fur jacket I had truly served as a safety blanket as I carefully made my way over to the familiar face.
My eyes immediately caught onto the way his tattooed fingers pinched the cigarette between his fingers, my strong presence introducing myself before I muster out a word.
He stood as tall as ever, much larger than I remember him being. He was definitely much more lean and his face was chiselled, the light scruff on his jaw creating a shadow that defined his facial features even more.
That's when my eyes darted to his pink lips and it was as though my mind had traveled back half a year back to when he would do nothing but kiss me all over.
Back when he would turn into the sassiest man I ever knew if I denied him of any kisses.
He was truly a soft teddy bear disguised as a scary, brooding man.
But that man I knew was dead.
The man standing in front of me looked troubled with torture and sin. His aura oozed trouble.
Unexpectedly, I took the cigarette out of his grasp, a shiver wracking through my body at the slightest brush of our skin together that filled me with warmth I thought would never come back.
I slowly took a single drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke in my chest before dropping the cigarette butt into his glass of whiskey.
"Awful habit, no?" I break the silence with a taunt, my voice teasing the dead eyes in front of me. I didn't even care to pay attention to the girl next to me, though her stare was awfully annoying. I felt vulnerable but I knew that I was protected.
"And who are you?" The woman finally speaks, her Italian accent thickly coating her words. Her voice comes off as genuine but I know better than to trust the sincerity of her question, no matter how badly I wanted to succumb to my instinct and compliment her.
My eyes lock with his before I speak aloud, "Nobody to concern yourself with."
"Lascia," his voice is deep and authoritative, leaving no room for disobedience to his order as he speaks to the woman.
Leave.
Forcefully, he grabs my hand and leads me inside the bar to a private room that was decorated with nothing but weapons ranging from all different shapes and sizes.
Guns, knives, switchblades, protective gear, the inventory was endless.
"Baby," his voice relaxes as he desperately pulls me into his embrace. One of his large hands held my head secure against the thump of his heart while his other arm snaked around my waist.
The gesture immediately allowed my body to melt, my legs buckling beneath me as I inhaled his intoxicating scent.
God.
God, how I missed him.
This wasn't what I was here for.
I untangled myself from his possessive hold on me, immediately missing the absence of his touch again.
"How did you find me? I've been looking for you."
"How am I better at the game you taught me?" Lorenzo was a master at hiding himself, I picked up a few things over the course of our time together.
"Behave," he threatens, the dark look in his eyes returning. At this, my tummy fills with butterflies that dance all around my insides.
Slowly and tentatively, I allow my hand to travel into the slit of my silk dress, lifting the thin material up my thighs as I showcase my black lace garter to his hungry eyes.
I pull the blade that's neatly tucked into my garter out, skilfully twirling it between my manicured fingers the same way the man in front of me does.
"Who taught you that," his hand quickly wraps itself around my neck, applying a firm amount of pressure that had my lips parting with pleasure that I was not proud of.
"A man I once knew," I drag the tip of the blade down his neck, all the way to the top button of his navy blue dress shirt, "A man I once loved," I whisper to him, allowing my words to travel to the drums of his ears.
I notice the way his grip tightens at my last few words, allowing me to understand the way it affected us both.
His jaw was tightly clenched, revealing the flex of his masseter every few seconds and his eyes was burning into my skin.
He slowly inched his face closer to mine, allowing our noses to slowly brush against each other.
My heart is going to fall out of my butt.
Shush. Bad Cat, stand up.
"Stop looking for me, or the next time I find you won't be to warn you."
He snatches the blade out of my grasp, his grip around my neck not faltering as I feel the sharp edge of my knife brush against my inner thigh.
Holy moly.
What is he doing?
Mary had a little lamb.
"Watch your tongue before I make you" his low voice is right next to my ear, making a shiver course throughout my entire body at this intrusion.
"Where's the fun in that?," Shortcake, I so badly wanted to say.
A gasp erupts out of me when I felt the band of my underwear snap against my skin, the delicate lace falling to the ground.
The caveman cut off my underwear.
I bring my hands to the one wrapped around my neck, holding it for moments longer than I intended to. "It hurts, sir," I look up at the dark eyes through my lashes, bringing my bottom lip into the grasp of my teeth.
His guard falters and that's when I snatch my blade back and push myself out of his hold.
Quickly, I pick up the ripped lace on the ground with the bottom of my heel and fold it neatly before putting it in the pocket of his suit jacket.
I take his hand in mine, his palm facing upwards as I notice the red trickling down his index finger. My tongue cleans the wound for him all while I hold eye contact with my own personal sin in front of me.
The very sin I felt built for.
The very man that was my sin.
"Here is me watching my tongue: stop looking for me before you regret it."
If my allies knew that I was in contact with their enemy they'd have both of our heads on sticks.
The large man in front of me falls to his knees as he looks at me, eyes pleading with me as though he knew that I so desperately wanted to stay.
But how could I?
How could I look at the face of my own destruction?
My love is woven with the action of leaving— of abandoning.
"Little love," his voice cracks, eyes welling with desperate tears.
The two souls reread their story in hopes for a better ending. They are both, however, met with disappointment once there are no more pages to turn.
Lorenzo had fallen to his knees, crumbling beneath Catalina's dainty fingertips as he allowed prayers of redemption to spill from the very tongue that had lied to her.
That had hid from her.
Yet she had walked away.
He found himself unable to beg her to stay. To plead for her to listen to him. For her to hear the words "I did not kill your mother."
"Don't, please," my voice is desperate. I don't know how much longer I can hold my composure.
All I wanted was my husband.
The sudden sound of gunshots outside broke me out of my trance.
I had no time to react before a pair of warm hands pulled me to the ground, his large body shielding me from any threat to present itself.
My ears were ringing obnoxiously, the feeling of warmth pooling around me making me feel uncomfortably sick.
My eyes slowly close, allowing me to fall into a deep slumber before I'm able to respond to the sound of my name being called.
A U T H O R S
N O T E
I've decided to write my authors notes before I write my chapters since by the end of my writing session I am usually too tired to write an authors note.
I'm not sure if anybody even reads these little notes but I feel the need to talk to my readers on a more personal level. I've always been a reserved girl but I think the weight of my pain is too much to keep inside of my (little) body.
When I read the comments you kind souls leave supporting me or saying sweet things in general I'm always filled with this warmth that makes me feel like freshly baked cinnamon rolls.
Thank you for the support. The love. The kindness. Even the simplest amount of support for me is enough to make a girl like me fall to my knees and thank the world for putting me in a position to receive so much love and kindness.
The beginning of this chapter was an excerpt taken from my notes app that I wrote when I found myself unable to handle my pain. I copy pasted it into this little app and left it for a month. I couldn't even touch this chapter because I knew it what it held.
I'm literally Catalina, I was sheltered and I knew nothing about love or relationships or boys.
I realise that nobody in the world deserves for me to waste my words on them the way I did then, and I will never write about someone so evil in such a valuable manner again. I will never shine my own light onto a dark and sinister person ever again. My words are valuable and not to be wasted over trash.
Thank you for the love & support again. Thank you for the patience. Thank you for the sweet messages, they help so much more than you think. To think that there are readers all around the world who think so sweetly of me makes me cry!!!1!1!!1 I hope to look back on this one day and barely remember my pain because right now it's the enormity of my problems and it hurts so bad that I'm suffocating. I never knew heartbreak before this.
ALL my love,
Red 🤍