Mi Leona

Leona.

*Mason*

I fucked up.

Bad.

I shouldn't have said those things to Valentina, but my anger got the best of me.

I don't think that she would want to be my friend again. From what I know, it takes her time to actually let anyone in.

I know I was not even near being her friend. It was a process.

But atleast I was close.

Valentina trusted me with her Mafia. Even let me stay at her house and what the fuck did I do?

Fucking accused her of harming my brother.

Guilt.

It's eating me up like a lion eating it's prey.

So here I'm in my house, sulking on my bed thinking about my harsh words.

Valentina was kind enough to tell one of her men to take me home. Because there was no way I would reach my home, firstly I was new to this city and secondly because her mansion was is the middle of a fucking forest.

I don't know what to do now.

So instead of thinking too much I start sleeping slowly with the thoughts of Valentina looming in my head.

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*Valentina*

Satisfaction.

For some people, satisfaction might mean buying new clothes, getting your dream car or fucking like it's the end of the world.

For me it's always been either fucking or torturing.

I just came out of my torture room.

Torturing someone is the same kind of satisfaction you would get by buying that one pair of shoes you were dying to buy.

Torturing someone helps me take my mind off of things for a while, while also I can use my pent up anger in good use.

After discussing our next plan for getting our shipment back, I changed into black leggings and black top, and went straight to the torture room to extract some information from the people who were caught being unfaithful to their Mafia.

Now I'm going to my room to change and shower. Again.

I open my room to see Xavier trying to get up.

He was failing miserably, if he falls the impact can hurt him and even break some stitches.

Idiota.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I ask him stoicly.

He looks directly at me, his face sweeping my face and hands.

Probably wondering how the hell am I covered in blood.

"I just wanted to go to the bathroom." He says. His voice barely a whisper. As if speaking hurts him.

But the room was so eerily calm that if you listened carefully you could hear your own heartbeat.

"What if you would have fallen? The stitches would have been opened and it would have hurt like a bitch." I tell him while trying to hide the fact that I do not like his carelessness.

"I wanted to piss really badly." That's all he said.

I clench my jaw. Trying to not lash out at him unnecessarily.