Luca's POV

I sat on my bed, the left side of it to be exact, because I just couldn't seem to want to invade the other half.

The half that has been empty for awhile, but still, I could not bring myself to move to her side.

The side of the bed where Elena laid every time I would hold her when she would cry.

When she would wake up in a haste, her fears and worst frights eating her alive.

When she cried into my chest as I held her closely, wanting nothing more then to take away the pain.

Every time she would share her feelings, her thoughts, her mind, well I sat there and listened, not wanting to interrupt her in anyway possible.

Even when the room was silent, no words spoken, her asleep on the right side of the bed after I said something to upset her.

I have only known the girl for 7 months.

I spent 5 months comforting her because her child was kidnapped by an ex-bestfriends psycho parents.

My father has a whole fucking contract with her father that says we are to be married, and I haven't even told her.

I miss Miles, I only knew the kid for 4 days, but those days were the happiest I have ever seen Helena and I hate seeing her like this.

I hate seeing her sad.

I hate worrying.

I hate how she won't talk to me.

And I hate that I don't know why I hate this.

Elena's POV

"Seriously, you guys get really obnoxious, it's a simple question," I pause, glaring at intruder #5, "Who do you work for?" I ask, happy my hair is in a bun.

I just got back from a Gala, so I am in a dark green/blue jumpsuit with a deep neckline spaghetti straps, paired with black 4 inch high-heels.

The fucker in front of me, decided to try to attack me in my room, to which I responded with a nice punch in the nose and a kick to the groin before calling in Cameron.

He came in followed by 5 other gang members with supplies that might be needed to get the fucker to talk.

"Fine, what are you here for?" I ask.

Silence.

"What is this, like number 5?" Cameron questions.

"Yeah, and they all act like they have gun stuck up there ass, sitting there all smug," I say punching the guy who just tried to stand up.

He spits some blood out of his mouth, before looking up at me and smirking.

"How do you know what's its like to have a gun stuck up your ass?" he questions, all SMUGLY.

The nerve.

"Oh I see it," Cameron says, nodding at me.

"Right,"

"I'm serious, I want to know," the guy says, his smirk not leaving his face.

"Okay, well there was this one time, this guy, his names Davis, was really into some weird shit, and long story short, he was in a pissy ass mood for a long ass time because he couldn't get a Glock out of his ass," I say, my face completely serious.

"How do you run the mafia?" he questions more to himself then me.

"That seems to be a recurring question," Cameron points out, holding the guy up well I threw a punch to his face, sending him back to the floor, where Cameron just left him.

"Your right Cam, didn't intruder #1 ask that to?" I question half-heartedly, not even flinching when the guy attempts to stand up and Cameron sends him back down with 2 punches to the face and 1 to the stomach.

"Ya, he did," Cameron said, messing the trigger on his gun since it had the safety on, acting as if he didn't just beat the shit out of the guy moments earlier.

"Ya, and I broke all of his fingers, carved my answer into his back, gave him a bath in liquor, before shooting him right between the eyes, because he wouldn't answer my fucking question," I say, my voice calm and casual.

"Right I remember, isn't that this gun you used?" he question, holding it out to me.

"Oh shit your right, what a coincidence," I say taking it from him.

"Anyway, enough of story time," I say, flashing a smile to the intruder, who wiped some blood from his nose.

"Who do you work for?" Cameron questions harshly.

The guy stays silent.

In two seconds flat I flick off the safety and shoot the guy in the hand, well he lets out a loud yell.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry, I thought the safety was on, let me stop that bleeding," I say, stepping onto the gun shot on his hand with my pointy heel, well he squirmed and screamed in pain.

I let all my body weight onto his hand, my shoe covering it.

A loud CRACK sounded, and I released pressure, before grabbing my knife from Cameron hand and plopping myself right down in the guys lap.

"You know, this is a simple question," I say, twiddling my knife between my fingers, as a member of my gang holds the guys arms up.

The guy just stays silent, his eyes filled with fear and pain.

I dig that combination.

I tap my tongue on the roof of my moth, creating a small click sound, well I drag my knife up the guys arm, around his neck, right to his ear.

"Who do you work for?" I ask, my eyes never leaving his.

Silence.

I jerk the knife forward, harshly, dragging it across his jaw, right to under his chin.

"Fuck." the man yelps.

"Name?" I press.

"Never,"

"Salt please," I say, irritation evident in my voice.

I wiped my hand in the blood on his cut, before pressing the in the salt that one of my gang members held out to me.

I sat my fingers gently on the deep cut, before tapping them, well he squirmed in pain.

I smacked him hard, to which he screamed out in pain.

"What is your boss's name?"

"I won't tell you," he says, face contorted in pain from the salt in the wound.

I was kind of hoping he would say that.

I slam my knife into his arm hard, well he screams out.

I then pull it out, wiping the blood on my pant leg before chucking it on my bed.

"Gun please,' I say, taking the gun from Cameron.

I shoot the guy in the same spot I just stabbed him, and he screams bloody murder,

I roll my eyes, standing up, "Name," I ask.

He doesn't answer, so I raise my gun, aiming for his head this time.

"Malcom Blanks," he stuttered out, his words breathy and quiet.