《COMPLETED - EDITED》
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A Story of two independent businesses. Getting their fates tied by their fathers to make a stronger alliance.
But it was never meant ...
...to be like this
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Will Aideen Mara, l...
A place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are most authentic self.
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"What do all these mean?" I asked, my hand trailing up his chest as I lay on my side, facing him. Harrison was sprawled on his back, revealing the angel wings tattooed on the peaks of his chest, the detail in the feathers captivating me.
"The wings?" he asked, turning his head to smile at me. I nodded, my curiosity piqued. "They symbolize freedom—the ability to liberate oneself from whatever binds or holds them."
"But we're never truly free, are we? No one is. Blood and war only hurt us," I countered, my tone tinged with skepticism.
He smiled softly, "Oh, and why's that?"
I arched an eyebrow, intrigued. He shifted onto his side to face me, his expression serious.
"We are all free, but some of us feel trapped in a tunnel. Don't let anyone get comfortable disrespecting you—that's what true freedom is. Be yourself, be brave, and don't give a fuck about what others think." He gave me a stern look, and I nodded, feeling the weight of his words.
"What about these?" I asked, tracing the outline of a Greek warrior tattoo on his left arm, surrounded by a lion, skulls, and rose vines. He had a large rose inked on his hand, which fascinated me.
"The Greek warrior symbolizes protection, power, and strength. The lion represents the authority I hold as the boss," he explained.
"And the skulls and roses?" I inquired, my fingertip gliding over the rose on his hand.
"Every woman I've killed is a skull, and every child is a rose," he said matter-of-factly.
"How many are there?" I asked, feeling a chill at the gravity of the conversation.
"157 women and 68 children," he stated, his voice heavy with the weight of his past. This was a hard topic to discuss, and I could see it troubled him.
"What about the men?" I pressed, wanting to know more.
"There's no room on my body for every man I've killed," he replied, rolling onto his back with a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry," I said, guilt creeping in.
"Why are you sorry? I feel bad bringing up this topic. No one likes talking about the lives they've taken." He turned to cup my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "It's alright. I just don't like seeing you upset."
"What do those three dots behind your ear mean?" I asked, moving his hair aside to see them clearly.
"These are recent. One dot represents someone close to me: my mom, my dad, and... you." He locked his gaze with mine, and I felt a rush of warmth. He got one for me.
