My Unfortunate Fairytale with the Son of a Mafia Boss- ON HOLD!!!!

Chapter 15

ooohhh family drama! lol i wanted to bring some other characters into the plot so hope u hate dariens father as much as i do ;) anyways heres another chapter

you know the drill...fan vote comment love :) hhahaha thanks guys

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i felt a profound amout of hatred fill my body as the doors slammed shut behind dariens father. And i thought darien was bad. boy was i wrong! darien seems like a beesting compared to his dad.

when i had gotten over the shock of everything that just happened before my eyes, darien was already pushing himself up off the floor. i ran to his side, gripping onto his arm and helping him up. when he was leaning against the edge of the cream couch he pushed me away.

"leave me be." he muttered wincing as he touched a thumb to the cut that split his lip. i shook my head before i walked to the bathroom grabbing a small towel and throwing it into the sink. i wet it with ice cold water. when my hands were red and numb i shut the water off and stepped back into the room.

darien still sat against the couch, but this time he was taking out  a cigarette from a small metal case. i scrunched my nose up in distaste. i hate cigarettes, nasty little things. i held up the cloth. "do you mind?" i questioned nodding to the lighter he just pulled out of his pants pocket.

he glared at me for a second before sighing and snapping his lighter closed. he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and placed it behind his ear. "thank you." i murmured stepping closer and moving to clean his cuts.

he kept his eyes trained somewhere else while i cleaned the blood away from his cuts. you could already see the bruises beginning to form around them. "i didn't know." i whispered dropping my hands when he was all clean.

"you didn't know my life was such a fuck up you mean?" he scoffed standing up and moving over  to the still open window. "that your father killed your mother." i shook my head looking down at the floor. i was an orphan since i could remember, i never knew who my parents were or what they were like. the orphanage had told me that they had been killed in a freeway accident when i was with a sitter.

but darien had a parent. one that was responsible for his mothers death. I felt sorry for myself my whole life because i never knew my parents but now i saw that even with out my parents i still had a life of my own. darien did not. he was miserable and imprisoned.

"Yeah well thats just the cherry ontop of the sugar mountain that is known as my existence." he grunted pulling the cigarette from his ear and lighting up. after 5 minutes of silence darien finally finished smoking his cigarette and threw it out the window. he leaned down and grabbed the blankets still hanging out the window. i was actually amazed and thrilled dariens father hadn't seen them.

he went over to a small hatch secured to the wall almost a meter off the ground. he opened it and dropped the sheets down into its depths. i watched as darien walked over to a large wooden door and stepped in rummaging around for a second before he found what he was looking for.

“here.” He threw me a silk piece of clothing. “whats this?” I asked unraveling the fabric.
“your pjs.” He answered turning his back to me and pulling off his shirt.

It was a pale silver nightgown. I held it to my body and realized how small it was.
“I’m not wearing this.” I said with finality throwing it onto a chair close by me.

darien sighed turning to face me. my mouth nearly dropped at the sight of him, he was absolutely gorgeous. he had an eight pack that made me practically drool, and his left upper arm had some tattoos that seemed to extend over his skin like a swirling blanket of black designs.

on the inner side of his right arm was a large black cross that looked like it sharpened into a knife on the longest side. it was beautiful and bold. but you could tell that it didn't mean anything religious.

“I don’t have anything else and plus, you are not sleeping in the bed with those filthy clothes.” He motioned to my ensemble, pulling me from my drooling.

I placed my hands on my hips. “well sorry if I just went through world war 3. can I borrow one of your shirts or something?”

“no, either you wear that or you don’t wear anything at all, you choose.” He said with a small smirk.

I huffed grabbing the nightgown and storming off to the bathroom to change with the small piece of fabric he called pjs