Enternal love

3 || the murder list

CAMILA DEVINTS

"Ready to go?" I hear, darting myself towards my door frame.

It was Gabriel.

I nod, standing up walking towards the door as he starts walking back.

I examine his body from the back. I know it's "weird" but god damn. If you knew what this man looked like, you wouldn't question me one bit.

He had tattoos along his arm and on his neck. I haven't seen him shirtless, yet, but I assume his abs are filled with them.

We make it to the car, and he opens the door for me. I don't say thank you, considering I'm still pissed and want to kill his ass for kidnapping me.

He stays silent, for half the car ride, before he mutters, "I heard your phone call earlier."

I don't say anything. Stalker much?

I look at him, prepared to full on scream at his ass, but then he says, "Im sorry." My eyes widen looking down.

"Thanks." Is all I say. As a mafia guy, he's pretty nice. I want to ask questions, but I try and hold myself back. Apparently my thoughts have a mind of its own though.

"The mafia. Your father runs it?" I ask, looking at him.

Oh shit. Why'd I ask?

He keeps his eye on the road, putting one of his arms on the rest between us, leaving him driving with one hand.

He looked hot.

"Marco Rossi, is his name." He reply's, I'm eager to ask more, but I stop myself. I will probably say something dumb. Luckily he answers my thoughts, somehow.

"I've been apart of the mafia since birth. I hated it, for a while. He forced me to do things that hurt more than anything. I've gotten used to it." He says.

Damn, that wasn't dark at all.

I burst out something I again, should've kept to myself. "How many people have you killed?" I look at him, again.

This one stopped him. He looked down, before quickly putting his attention back to the road. "More than 1000, at least." He mumbles.

That's a lot.

"Only people who deserve it. Don't get on my list." He chuckles.

Oh?

I don't know what to say to that one.

——————

Once we are able to make it to the store, I go straight the the clothing isle. I hate outfit repeating. He's rich, so it's fine.

And it will help him make up for kidnapping me.

But obviously, what he said, was still on my mind. "Don't get on my list." What's that supposed to mean? Does he have a murder list?

I didn't care to ask. Then I'd have a better chance of getting on it. Maybe he was just joking, or he really does have one. I won't doubt Mr. Emo Ass.

Once the cart was filled to the top, he immediately puts his hand on mine.

Fuck. He gets me hard.

"That's enough. I'm not made of money." He replies, winking. Damn, I though he was rich?

We go to check out, and he pays. He barley even made eye contact with the lady. I didn't point it out, it's probably just a coincidence.

We get into the car, as he peaks through his phone messages before calling someone.

Of course though, he spoke in all Italian. What a bitch.

"Non voglio avere niente a che fare con il tuo piano. chiamami più tardi e ti aiuterò a uccidere, padre." He speaks. The only thing I could comprehend was how hot he sounded in Italian.

He hangs up the phone before quickly driving off. "What was the call about?" I ask. He rubs his tattoos, as always, doing something stupid before answering my question.

"Work." He replies, keeping focused on the road.

"What kind of work? Mafia work?" I ask, knowing he won't tell me shit.

"Yes, it is, Camila. Don't fuck around, it's none of your business." He says, pissed off. I guess I should stop.

I barley know him, I ask too many questions. I'm not surprised on why he won't answer them. I'm still not happy with this killing shit, or his so called "murder list."

We make it home, as I really was grieving to get drunk. I've had a rough week. First, I get fired, then I get assaulted. And of course, kidnapped and trapped in some house, with a man I barley know. Next, my best friend casually dumps me.

Sounds like a job for alcohol.

I giggle, putting on a short, sparkle blue dress, that rests just under my thighs. I put on high black boots with heels. I curl my beautiful dirty blonde hair.

I've always loved my hair. That's the only part of my body I actually love.

I then walk to the front door, I don't worry about telling Gabriel. He's too much of a bitch for me to.

Once I make it to the party, I walk inside slowly. It was some teenager party for college, I look young enough to fit in. I was probably the only one that was even old enough to drink.

I walk to the bar, ordering myself a drink. It made me miss my job of bartending. Sure, I got sexual assaulted everyday by old men, but it was still fun.

He hands me my drink, as I down it. Holy fuck? How much was I holding in. I chase to the dance floor, dancing alone.

I can't help but cross my fingers a guy runs up to me and dances with me.

AUTHORS NOTE
What did we think of this chapter?? I have such a good idea for the next chapter. It is not smut! Im taking it slow and teasing y'all oops

Im working on another story, but I probably won't post the first part until we are farther into this. Because I do wanna finish.

It's dark romance, I was going for cute, but it exculpated oops!

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