Mine ➣ GxG

17

"Good Morning, guys!"

I got back a good morning from Juliet, Romeo and Matteo, but not Neika.

I bit the inside of my cheek and Matteo looked at me and used his eyes to motion to Neika.

I shook my head and took up my breakfast that the maid left and a cover dish and started putting it in.

I placed the dish in my bag and the dish in the sink, washed it and then went outside where I sat down on the step.

I carried my knees up and placed my hands on my knees and leaned down on my hands.

Where did I go wrong?

What did I do wrong?

I sighed and saw a black car drive in the gateway and watched it. It parked and a man came out of the car.

He was good looking, but no body can compare to my Neika.

— Matteo's Pov —

I watched Paris as she left the house with her head down and turned to Neika.

"What did you do? What did she do?" I asked.

"Nothing." She replied with a short answer as she stared through the window with her signature face— the cold stare.

"Neika—"

She glared at me.

"You are not allowed to call me that."

I laughed.

"Fucking whipped."

"Shut up."

"What's the fuel between you guys?"

"Nothing. I just don't feel like talking."

"And I should believe you?"

No answer.

"Look, I see how happy she makes you and you deserve her, she deserves you. Whether or not you are scared of love, I can tell you, you can trust Paris. She's the one for you." I said to Oneika.

"Mafia Boss or not, you deserve love. You are someone with feelings and a heart. Trust Paris and let her in. I'm telling you, she's the one. I just know it, Oneika."

"Bu—"

We heard a scream from outside.

We looked at each other and took off.

When we reached outside, we saw a man in black trying to kiss Paris, while trying to tug off her pants.

Oneika pulled a pocket knife from her pocket and walked to the man and stick it in his neck.

She pushed him away from Paris and pulled her up, holding her closely in her arms like she'd fade away soon.

Oneika fixed Paris's clothing and held her cheeks in her palms, looking down at her.

Deciding not to eavesdrop, I went to the guy and sunk the knife deeper in his neck and watched as he bled out.

Tilting his neck to the side, I saw a cursive "R" on his neck.

I cursed lowly.

Russians.

—

Uh what am I doing???