《The Many Deaths of Kara Lowe》Chapter 30: Kara’s Breakroom of Horrors (Part 3)
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“Kara, dear.”
Good god. Just let me die. I’ve changed my mind, take me back sweet void!
Doctor Grady, or Lady Grady? Um no, that just sounds stupid. What an unfortunate name combination. Anyway, the quack is now standing in front of me, joined by her equally weird sidekick, and shoving a small card in my face. I grab it just to get my peripheral vision back.
“What’s this?”
It’s a business card. Bright purple with white letters, with her full name -SYBIL GRADY- and her office number and address. It’s a different number and address than the one I knew when I was seeing her months ago. Also, it doesn’t say Physiatrist, it says Psychic. And apparently, she’s registered.
How nice for her.
“This is my business card,” she laughs, “my real one, of course. I’m sure you have so many questions about who you are, and what’s going on, and I’d be happy to answer them all for you.”
She’s smiling at me broadly. She has no idea how pissed I am, does she? The card goes into my pocket, but it’ll go in the trash later.
I stare at the girl beside her. She doesn’t look any older than me.
“I’ll keep it in mind. Is she a psychic, too?” And does she speak? She’s just had this dumb smile on her face the entire time I’ve known her. Which is about half an hour, but still.
“Oh, yes, yes, this is my niece. I had five children but sadly none of them possessed the gift. But Hannah here, bless her, is a natural. She’ll be even better than me someday, I think.”
And how nice for her.
“Cool. I have some other people I need to talk to, so…”
“Oh goodness yes, we won’t keep you any longer, but please do give me a call, dear.”
“Of course,” not. I smile and they scuttle away. A total lie, by the way. I’m not talking to anyone else if I can help it.
I go over to the fruit table. No one’s here now because it’s been mostly picked clean. But there’s still some soggy pineapple and brown apple slices to be had. They don’t taste as bad as they look, and sadly it’s enough to distract me. I can’t help it; my taste buds are finally working. Probably because of the whole ‘no powers’ thing.
Anyway, I’m snuck up on by Mr. Long and his most-likely daughter.
He’s just standing there like a deer in headlights, wringing his hands. It’s kind of awkward. No, that’s a lie too. It’s super awkward. I know he’s a Lord and shit and I’m supposed to be polite because I promised and stuff, and I guess he kinda tried standing up for me same as Romano, but like it’s been a full minute now, and he’s just staring at me…? Can I please leave?
“Papa!” His definitely-daughter hisses in his ear and he almost jumps.
“Kara, I, well I…” He looks confused for a minute. Poor dude must have forgotten his prepared speech in the car.
His daughter rolls her eyes and then smiles at me apologetically. Okay then, looks like she’ll be speaking.
“I am Long Da-Xia. My father, Long En, wishes to express his deep sadness over his deceit, and his great joy in having worked with you for many wonderful months. Like many of the others, he believed he was doing what was best for everyone, and never wanted harm to come to you.”
She has a thick accent, same as him, and must not have a perfect grasp on English, so she speaks very formally. I feel kind of bad for them. Mr. Long was always so cheery and happy, right now he looks like he wants to go die in a ditch. I guess there is some truth to what he and René were saying. It was an order, but not one they disliked.
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But just because they enjoyed my company doesn’t make all the lies okay.
Unlike the others, aside from the psychic weirdos who I was just civil to in order to get them to leave me alone, I don’t want to be mean to this man. I’m hurt, but I can tell he is too. He’s not pretending like everything is okay like the others, the guilt is all over his face. I mean, yikes, the man is literally sweating bullets.
And he did try to stand up to Michael, which can’t be easy to do. Well, for people other than me. That earned him a lot of points right there.
“The work was boring, and the pay was crappy,” I begin. He hangs his head, and his daughter wraps an arm around him. “It was always cold in there, and you’re not the best decorator. The regulars were all weird and annoying, and you never played any music. Also, the brownies were usually stale.”
He’s nodding his head while I go on and on about his many flaws.
“Yes, yes, it’s true, it’s all true.”
“Oh, papa…”
“You thought you were doing the right thing?”
He meets my gaze briefly, before nodding some more.
“Do you still think it was the right thing?”
“No, he-”
Mr. Long touches her shoulder, quieting her, and she looks concerned.
He’s meeting my gaze steadily now, although he’s blinking a lot like he’s looking at the sun or something. Oh, or holding back tears. Probably that one.
“I am the one who found you. There, bleeding!” He shouts the last part and points at the nearest wall. We get a few weird looks. A few blank stares. Then people go back to whatever lame conversations they were having.
“I knew it at that time. I knew it right away, we messed up. We were wrong.”
‘We were wrong.’ Damn straight.
I hadn’t thought of it, to be honest, until he reminded me. But in the ambulance, they told me it was him who found me, him who called them. Him who helped save me. What must it have been like, to come back to the store and find me missing? When he’d been ordered to watch me? And then, to find me in the alleyway… like that…the poor man.
I guess I haven’t thought that much about how my death may have been traumatizing for other people too.
“I’ll forget.”
“Um, yes?”
Father and daughter are looking at me uncertainly.
“I already pretended to forgive everyone because I had to. I didn’t mean it. Not a word. And even if I did, it wasn’t ever my intention to forget about it. But I’ll forget you were a part of it. You’re alright, Boss Long.”
Da-Xia’s hands cover her mouth, and she gives her father a hug. Mr. Long just looks frozen. I don’t know if he understands.
“I don’t understand.”
Bingo. Okay, how do I put this…
“I said I accepted their apologies earlier, but I really didn’t. You can’t truly forgive someone when you still hold onto the bad memories and resentment. At least I can’t. I just said all that stuff because I had to.”
They’re both nodding yet they both look confused.
“I’m letting go of it. Well, just the part that involves you. So, you have my only forgiveness.” Then I wink. “Just don’t tell the others, they’ll get jealous.”
“You forgive me? True forgiveness?” His eyes are as wide as I think they can go without breaking his face.
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“Yeah.” And for good measure. “You should try to forget it all, too. About finding me like that. It wasn’t your fault. That’s not something you have to carry. You should let it go.”
That image of me, a child, lying there covered in blood. I hope he can wipe that from his mind. That’s not a guilt he needs to burden himself with. He’s not the one who killed me, and his deceit was the least of everyone else’s. And he seems to be the only person who really regrets everything. Everyone else is just covering their ass.
“If you’re finding it difficult you can always go see Doctor Grady, I hear she’s fishing for new clients lately-”
Oh, jeez. He’s crying. His daughter wraps her arms around him and leads him away, but not before bowing her head to me. A thank-you, I guess?
Man, I am glad that’s over with.
I turn back to the fruit but before I can pick another slice to try, I feel a tugging on the back of my coat.
What now?
I turn and find myself much too close for comfort with that wandering snacker. Seriously, I can easily count each of his wonky teeth from here.
“Hello!”
And I can smell the ham on his breath from his sandwich earlier. Wonderful. How many other horrors am I going to subjected to today before all this is over?
Backing up into the table I return his greeting with less enthusiasm. “Hi.”
“Uncle.”
“Whats’ it, boy?” The wanderer doesn’t look happy at being interrupted in his annoyance of me.
I see that much too ordinary buddy of his is here as well, at a more thoughtful distance.
“You’re too close.”
“Ah?” He looks back to me, looks me up and down, then takes two dramatic steps back. “Ah.”
“Thanks.” I give the other guy a nod.
“You’s a polite child.”
Not… really… no- was, was he at the same meeting we all were? Where did he get ‘polite’ from? Did he pull that word out of his backpack like he did all those snacks? Is it like a magician’s hat? Is there a rabbit in there, too?
“What’s up, Mr. Wanderer?”
He’s kinda just standing there, staring at me, just like Mr. Long was doing, but with a goofy grin instead of nervousness. It’s no less awkward.
“The names of this wanderer is Wendell Brockton.” He smiles and points at his own face.
Guess that’s one way to introduce yourself.
He adds ‘s’ sounds to a lot of his words. It probably has to do with his weird teeth.
“Oh, you do have a name, great. Uh, nice to meet you.” Are we done now?
“That boy is Nestor Brockton, he’s mine nephew. Sis’s kid.” He points at his companion’s face. His companion swats away his hand.
Now that I think about it, he has the same black hair with white sideburns. And rather than a black backpack he’s got a black briefcase satchel bag thing. It seems oddly dark somehow.
“Hello.” I force a smile at the guy and he just nods. Not a talkative fellow, that one.
“How’s the stone I gives to ya?”
“The… oh, that rock, yeah, I still have it.” I pat my side pocket.
He’s staring a hole into my pocket now. He was doing that earlier during the meeting, too, at one point. He really likes this rock. Well, he did say it was his favourite rock.
“Uh… did you… want it back?” A bit of gifter’s regret?
“Nah, nah. You’s a good child, you needs it more than I.”
“Need it for… what exactly?”
“Mayhaps you’s should take a look, ah?”
Oh…kay. I resist rolling my eyes at him and manage to get it out from between the two business cards and the new-but-used notebook.
“See, it’s perfectly fine, and-” Oh. Well, that’s a bit different.
I remember when he gave it to me, I thought it was a cool looking rock because it was exactly half pure white and half sleek black. Looking at it now, it’s only about one third pure white. The black line is still perfectly straight but it’s moved, and the black part has taken up more of the rock.
Uh, I don’t think normal rocks change like that. Just what did this old weirdo give me?
“Mn, as I’s feared.”
“Uncle, is it another seed?”
“How’s should I know?” Wendell waves him off.
Did he just say seed? Like my Seed of Anger? Wait, no, that’s just what I call it and it’s not like it’s a real thing it’s just a way to describe that angry feeling and how it’s growing and-
It’s… it’s not real, right?
I gulp and stare at the stone. It was balanced when this Wendell guy had it, and after being with me a couple days, suddenly the white is disappearing. No matter which way you slice it, that can’t be a good thing, right?
“You’s soul is darkening, miss.”
That’s not a creepy thing to say to someone. Not. At. All.
“Fun fact, I actually don’t have a soul anymore, since I died and all.”
Hahaha….hah…
I got a Fintan instead. I think. He’s still sleeping since the whole Ice Doctor, sleeping curse thing. At least I hope he’s sleeping and not dead. Let’s not think about it.
“You’s Soul’s is in the next place, still exists, still connected to you’s there.” He roughly taps me near my collarbone, almost making me cough, and leaving a faint pink mark. Uh, ow?
“Really?”
“Aye. Or you’s come back a Beast. Not human. No thoughts. But you’s soul, it’s rotting. Diseased. Infected.”
“Sorry, what?”
This guy thinks my fucking soul is rotting? What the fuck? Isn’t that very very bad? Without a soul I’d just be a beast? Like a zombie? Holy shit.
“Mn. Not good.”
Ya think?
“Why hasn’t anyone else told me about this? Isn’t it kind of important?”
“Bah! Bunch of fools, knows nothing, sees even less.”
I’m starting to like this guy. Even if he did poke me. And I’m not the type to shoot the messenger.
“All those fancy tests and they’s don’ even knows to check something so basic, back when I’s was in charge there, they’s didn’t miss thingses like this-”
Nestor coughs. “Um, Uncle.”
“Shh.” Wendell shushes his nephew.
“If I’m infected then what do I do? How do I fix it?”
“No cure. Can’t reach. No fix.”
“WHAT?”
How can there be no fucking cure to this? What the fuck am I supposed to do?
I shouted pretty loudly, and some folks are staring at us now, but I don’t care about that because my soul has a fucking disease.
“No worries, miss. You’s give to me, I takes it.”
“Oh. So you do want it back?” I reach out to hand him the rock.
“Nah, nah, nah. Not rock, rock is you’s, I takes it. I can carries it.” He’s gesturing at my other hand?
“What do you want my hand for- Ow! What are you-?”
This freaking weirdo just grabbed my hand and now my palm is burning.
“Stop it! Just what are you doing?” I try to yank my hand back, but he’s stronger than he looks. Why is he doing this? What is he doing? What the fuck is this nutter doing to me?
“Shh, I’s takes the darkness. I’s carry it.”
What? Take the darkness?
It’s then I actually look at my hand and realize there is dark black smoke escaping out from between our fingers.
My hand is really burning? But why does that smoke look so… odd.
“Uncle, perhaps I should-”
“Apapah, you’s too weak, boy!” Wendell kicks his nephew’s knee with his leg when he takes a step forward.
Nestor grunts and backs away again.
I wonder for a moment why his nephew wanted to do the… whatever-is-happening-to-me-thing… instead. But looking closer at the wanderer I guess I can see why he’d offer. The man is sweating and for some reason his skin keeps turning black then the black fades back to his normal skin tone then it turns black again, on repeat. The process of what he’s doing looks painful. Or maybe it isn’t fading at all. Is that blackness the darkness he talked about? Is he absorbing it? How?
“I thought people couldn’t use powers in here…”
I manage to mutter out a question as the pain becomes, well not bearable just, tolerable. I’m getting good at ignoring pain. My pain tolerance is through the roof compared to before, and it was already pretty high.
“I’s a wanderer. Do what I wants. But ah… this is a secret betweens us, okay miss?”
The wanderer gives me a sneaky looking grin, but still looks like he’s in pain, and I look around us. No one is paying us any mind, despite how weird this must look. Why isn’t anyone paying attention to this obvious spectacle? This obvious use of powers in a supposed safe zone? This guy’s skin is black, and it was a ruddy beige before. How is no one seeing this?
It reminds of something. What is it? Think, Kara, think!
Oh yeah… that high level Wizard Monk. The first one I saw. Jordan’s buddy. Or, elder. He was dressed super odd and no one around us noticed or cared. This feels just like that time.
Just who is this guy?
“Is all done. Darkness gone. For a times. Disease will makes more darkness. You’s come finds me again.”
He lets go of my hand and waves at me before turning around to leave. His nephew nods to me and joins him in leaving.
“Wait a second, how do I know when to find you when I didn’t even know I had a problem before?”
“The rock will tells you’s.”
The rock? I pick it up off the ground, I’d dropped it at some point, and the colours are now balanced again, half white half black, like it was when he gave it to me. So I guess when the white starts disappearing again, I should find him? …Wait!
“But how do I find-” Aaaaand the fuckers are gone. “-you.”
Shit.
How did they even leave so fast? The door is way over there.
Oh, whatever. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess.
I look down at my hand. There’s a large black, burnt circle in the middle of my palm, with some faint smoke still seeping out of it. But the spot is slowly disappearing just like the blackness on the wanderer’s face had receded time and again. The smoke fades along with it. Very soon my hand looks just like it did before. As if nothing had ever happened.
So strange.
I want to follow those weirdo’s example and leave, too, before anything else annoying happens. While everyone had been on the side of the room with the only escape route earlier, they’ve shifted to the center now. I can probably get out that side door without being seen.
Somehow, against all odds, I do manage to slip out undetected. Now I find myself in a long hallway. There’s no way of knowing where the main entrance is so I decide to go left.
“You can’t go that way.”
Dammit. It wasn’t unnoticed after all. Stupid Boy followed me.
I turn right.
“You can’t go that way, either. Not unsupervised.”
“Then what do you propose I do? Because I’m not going back in there.”
He studies me for a minute. “Come on then, you idiot. Follow me.”
Wow, how charming. Who could resist an invitation like that?
He’s walking down the right hall. My choice is to either go back into the breakroom of horrors or follow my murderer down another alleyway.
Murderer it is.
“Where are we going?”
“Roof.” He points up.
“You’re not going to kill me again, are you?” I jest.
David keeps walking. If my comment had any effect, I can’t see it. He cranks open a door I totally would have missed that leads to a steep, circular, grey-stone stairwell with black iron railings, leading both up and down. Dizziness hits me when I remember Limbo’s endless stairs and hallways. I grab the railing more tightly than needed.
“Are you alright?”
I put on my ‘are you stupid?’ face again for what feels like the millionth time today. What aspect of my life right now is ‘alright?’
His pasty cheeks flush briefly, and he coughs. A nervous trait, I think. “Right, no, of course you’re not. Uh…” He looks up. “Do you think you can manage a couple flights?”
I look up too, and then regret it. More dizziness. I’m really on my last legs. But there’s no way I want him to know that, so I nod and start making my way up. And just when I think I’m going to die for good, David opens another well-hidden door and beckons me through. In movies what I’m doing is never a good idea, but I’m too tired to be worried.
He said roof and I expected something bigger, but it’s more like a patio, with grey-stone half walls surrounding it. But the air is cool and adds life to my lungs. Whatever serum his dad gave me in that jailcell, and that other one after the meeting, have both worn off, a while ago probably. But I wasn’t paying attention.
The fresh air is nice. I go to the short stone walls and sit down, my back to it, and finally feel some relief. The stone is nice and cold, but not too cold or I’d hate it. Just right.
David sits a few feet from me, but still a little close for my liking. Although to be fair, China would be a little close for my liking.
We sit in silence for quite a while. Then he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and a lighter from his jeans. Fucking Pall Malls.
“Are you serious?”
“Hm?” He takes a puff and blows it up to the sky.
I just stare at him. It’s not the same pack, I can tell somehow, but it’s the same brand. Same size, same shape. My head hurts. It really really hurts.
“Oh.” He looks at the pack and back at me. “Right, sorry. I forgot.”
“You forgot.” I deadpan.
“N-no not forgot, just in the moment, I-”
“Give it.”
He’s at a loss. “What?”
“What what? Does your offer no longer stand?”
It takes him a minute to remember that he had offered me a cigarette that day, before leading me to my doom.
“Uh…I don’t know if you should be-”
“I shouldn’t be. But do I look like I care? Hand it over.”
He looks unsure about it, but hands it to me. I take a deep whiff and it burns my throat and tickles my gums. But my headache subsides. True relief at last. It doesn’t help my dizziness though, so I close my eyes. That dizziness is getting worse. And I’m getting a bad feeling about it.
David takes out another for himself, and another wave of silence, much more tolerable than the first, passes between us. The breeze combines our clouds into one and carries them away, my worries with it. Forget all those fancy pills and shit they’re giving me; all I need is this.
“I figured I could tell you some stuff, away from all the ruckus, if you wanted.”
Then David opens his mouth, but I don’t mind as much now.
“I mean, if you wanted me to.”
“What did the mayor mean about lodgings? Surely I’m in no shape to leave the hospital.”
“You were never going to stay in the hospital long. It’s harder to control what happens in a place that busy.”
“You freaks sure do love controlling me.”
“What I mean is, that traitor wouldn’t have managed to almost take you out if you’d been someplace else. But you’re a minor and there was your mother to consider.”
“Right, it’s tough to kidnap children when they have a parent watching.”
“That’s not- You wouldn’t want to stay there, anyway. Not with what you’ll be going through. Trust me. You’ll receive homecare. The best kind.”
“Why call it ‘homecare’ and ‘lodgings’ if I’m just being sent home?”
“They’re not sending you home. Not yet.”
“Why the fuck not?”
David takes both our stubs and squishes them under his foot.
“Why can’t I go home?” I hate how desperate I sound. And the stupid catch in my voice.
“You still have another transition. Phase Three. And if the rumours are correct, yet another one after that. But that one- well that one shouldn’t be an issue.”
He sounds nervous, and I can tell he’s not telling me everything. Che, and I thought that was the whole point of this excursion. His eyes got real shifty when he talked about this ‘Phase Three’ thing, and he’s being evasive about the other part.
“You’re not telling me everything. I’m getting really tired of people doing that.”
“I can’t really talk about the rumours, mostly because I don’t know much, I swear.”
Well, I can believe that. That’s been obvious from the start.
“As for Phase Three, all I can say is you don’t want to be at home for that. And you don’t want your mum to see it.” He points at my wrists and then at my ankles. “That’s nothing, understand? And yours will be worse than most. That’s partially mine and Zeke’s fault actually, I’m really sorry.”
I stare at my ankles and my wrists, too. The bruises have gotten even darker still. And they throb. Worse than this? The next transition will be worse?
And it’s his fucking fault?
He must have noticed my glare. “You’ll be in the best place for it. You’ll get the best care one can. It- it’ll be fine.”
“Just where are they making me stay?”
“Spencer Manor. Well, my basement basically.”
“There’s no way in hell I’m staying with you and your psychopathic father-”
I’m cut off by a loud wailing sound. Like what you’d hear at a fire station. But it’s close. Way too damn close.
“Ow, what the heck?” One of the alarm bells is right above us. I almost faint on the spot from the noise. “God damn it, shut-up!”
Everything seriously needs to stop hurting me!
Ah, the seed grew again. I almost missed that it was back. Wow it- it grew a lot, huh? Ow, a little… too much. What is happening-
“Stop! Ringing!”
Now, usually when you yell at an inanimate object, nothing happens.
But this time I feel a shock of energy exit me and rocket right into the bell. A different kind of energy, but I’m in no fit state to focus on that right now. And this is not a random burst. This was a controlled, thin gust of energy that has hit a specific target. There is nothing but a black spot on the wall and a plume of smoke where the noise’s origin had been.
David is bug-eyed and open mouthed.
“Sorry. I’d say I’d pay for that, but I’m kind of broke. Out of a job, you know?”
He’s still in shock.
“What? Isn’t this sort of thing normal among freak society?”
“Not for you! That’s… that’s something I can do, you shouldn’t… except after years of effort…” He’s really in shock. What does he mean he can do it, but I can’t? “You don’t even have a shadow; you shouldn’t be able to use Spiritual Energy at all.” Oh. So that’s why. Uh, then how am I using it then? “I don’t even think that was Spiritual Energy. I can’t Sense it at all. Just what are you…”
He trails off then gets up, so I can’t see his face. But I feel like his expression is weird.
“They’ve noticed you’re missing. We have to go back.”
Ah, crap. I feel sick. That stupid fucking bell really fucked me up. And then the seed did… something. And I was already at my limit… this is not good.
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Look, I know it’s difficult, but-”
“I’m actually not trying to be difficult this time.” My head is still ringing. And my vision is spinning. I am going to faint. Right here. “You’ll have to bring them here, I’m going to-”
“Oh shit! Hey, Kara! Hey!”
The last thing I see is an idiotic giant getting stuck in a doorway. Man, despite the pain, I wish I could stay awake just a bit longer. That’s so…it’s so fun…ny…
~ Arc 1 - End ~
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Shock! The Spell Is In English!
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Where do you go when you run out of options? The Honorable Guild of Vagabonds and Wayfarers accepts everyone, regardless of past indiscretions. Records are wiped clean, crimes are forgotten, and futures can be forged anew. At least that's how it's advertised. When Corwin Walker is banished from his village he thought that he could join up with the Guild and start making right for what he did but the process is more complex than he realized. Finding a master, outfitting himself and learning the ways of a Wayfarer catapults him from one crisis to another. Vash McMartin finds himself in a strange city with no money, no home, and no shoes. Taken in by strangers he learns to fight for other part-elves like himself. However, everything is not as it seems as Vash stumbles onto dark secrets that many would prefer were kept buried. As a scion of a magical dynasty Galia Amneris was assured a place at the Towers of Osterlan. When the Tower of Changes chose her as an apprentice, however, things became infinitely more complex. Now she tries to complete her magical education while struggling to match the ideals of her family. An ongoing tale of magic, intrigue, and adventure that asks just one very important question: So, you want to be a hero?
8 131The Thorned Rose
When a cold-hearted assassin who has suppressed every single emotion, kills someone the Mafia didn't want dead, there is a slight battle for power, but when Don Sandrino, the head of part of the mafia, realises the man she killed was evil, he starts searching for her, wanting the infamous 'Thorned Rose' assassin on his side to try and take back his birthright of being the boss of bosses that his uncle stole away from him.Savannah is bored as an assassin working for a company, just killing random politicians, and wants something exciting, and that something is in the form of Don Sandrino.There is drama, tragedy, fighting and romance littering every chapter. The only thing is, Savannah doesn't know how to love, she has suppressed that emotion, along with every single other emotion, and she doesn't know who she really is as she has had to live under alias names for so long, always pretending to be someone else. She just does not know who the real Savannah is.Can Don Sandrino pull it out of her? Can he make her love again? Or will their dysfunctional romance end in death and heartbreak?***"You know, anyone who calls me Fabricio usually ends up dead, or really hurt, anyone who dares call me Pugliesi gets their tongue chopped off and forced to swallow it, then they die," said a voice from behind me."Well, Fabricio Sandrino Pugliesi Russo, what are you going to do to me now?" I asked, raising one of my eyebrows."Is playing chicken one of your favourite games?" he asked, laughing."Yes, because I always win." He laughed again. What the fuck is going on? I never make people laugh, well I never have anyone around to talk to except Nadia, who never laughs at anything, but still."I'm waiting for you to chop my tongue out, Fabricio," I was toying with him, seeing whether his threats were real.***THIS IS AN ACTION ROMANCE, WITH GRUESOME SCENES AND SEXUAL SCENES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! ⚠️COVER BY: https://www.deviantart.com/ivana422#1 in MAFIOSO
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