The Mafia Sacrifice

60

Damon King

Here I am.

Resting instead of working.

Laying in a half empty bed bothered me. The feeling of not having the one I love beside me pushed me to a limit of loneliness. Without her, this mansion felt emptier than before.

She brought out a happy side in everyone and everything. Before Starr walked into this place, it was always about business and who's on top. Which was and still is me.

However, after, this place became a home. One that wasn't so empty. One that you could imagine as one is a movie. I found myself looking forward to a new day when I was with her.

And I wanted that feeling to last forever, but it didn't.

I run my hands on the sheets where she laid a week ago. Her body shape was still creased into the sheet on her side of the bed because I have yet to touch it until today.

I missed her.

I miss her smell. Her smooth skin. Her smile. Her feisty attitude. Her actions that were completely unexpected. And the light she brought upon all of our darknesses.

Being a mafia leader, I never knew what love felt like. I had to bury my feeling in places where light wasn't present but darkness was.

Though, no one really knows that darkness has a shadow of its on.

Making you realize every waking moment that you are not a good person and you would never experience anything good.

But for some reason, my darkness has done me a favor.

It gave me Starr and I deeply appreciate it.

Glancing around my room, I couldn't help but notice something quite illogical. The black and white picture— which I told Starr I would — perhaps— replace with a picture of her.

The thought made me angry in a way that I normally wouldn't have.

I stand up, rushing over to the picture I once was fond of, snatching it off the wall. Breaking the canvas picture as if every piece represented every time that I felt pain, anger, loss, resentment.

In all those words, I punch the wall. "Fuck," I yell mad at myself for many reasons.

But then I just stand their, staring at that broken picture. Realizing that everything I come in contact with... I break.

As if me breaking it wasn't enough, I always tried to find ways to fix the impeccable shit.

I snatch up the broken down picture, and storm my way to the balcony, where I left the two wide double doors open because I liked the cold feeling lingering in my skin. The cold breeze danced upon my skin as I stop, dropping the canvas next me to as if it didn't matter.

Looking over the balcony, I seen many of my men stationed all around the house. In the night, just there waiting for something suspicious or not knowing to happen.

The stars beamed in the sky. Every of which had their own personality. But the one that stuck out the most to me was the brightest one. It reminds me of Starr.

The brightest amongst others.

The one who people saw without her announcing she was there.

And from that, I instantly felt drawn to her.

From the moment her adoptive father brought her into the ball. The moments she called me out, not afraid of what I could do to her. And the moments she made me realize there is more to life than just money and power— but love.