-Golden girl.

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TYSM FOR 70 READS-
This book hasn't even been posted a day, im so grateful! 💗
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TYSM FOR 70 READS- This book hasn't even been posted a day, im so grateful! 💗|~|~|~|~|~|

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I live a solitary life. The deafening silence keeps me company on the daily. I prefer it that way. My father raised me to rely to nobody, so I don't. I focus on the mafia, and the mafia alone. After all, thoughts are the shadows of our feelings- always darker, emptier and simpler.

My mind kept drifting back to the girl at the club, how her body moved so freely with the music as that creepy fucker groped her. Her hair cascading gently down her back. The sense of familiarity in her eyes. I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

When she dragged that old dude out the back emergency exit, I knew she was up to no good. She was walking with purpose and it wasn't for a quick fuck in the alley. Her drunken act ceased as she exited the club. So of course, I followed her.

Weaving between the crowds I slipped out the the door, gently shutting it behind me. What i didn't expect was to find the little minx standing over the man. A knife lodged uncomfortably in her thigh. As my vision adjusted to the darkness of the alleyway, I watched as she landed two punches to his nose. That gotta hurt. Then dragged her knife across his throat. A strangled grunt passed his lips, possibly words or a plea for help. Nobody would hear him over the pounding noise of the club.

I leaned backwards against the wall, patiently waiting for her to notice my presence. Wouldn't want to startle her right now with that knife in her hand. Her eyes meeting mine, a soft hazel colour. Part of her face had been illuminated by the club, as the neon lights passed through the crack in the door.

She was beautiful.

A curious little vixen she was. She watched me intently as she dragged her hand across her throat, an action that was easily recognisable. I raised my hands in mock surrender.
I chuckled humourlessly as I took a drag from my cigarette, turning my head to look at the night.The stars illuminating the infinite sky. It's funny how something so small is so significant in another eyes.

I turned away from her and headed towards the door again, leaving her to her own devices.

After all, snitches get stitches, no?

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Of course, Carlos De La Riva's daughter is the the girl from the club last night. The familiarity clicking instantly as they stood side by side. How I didn't realise was beyond me.
That's a lie.
I was to intoxicated to notice.

We sat quietly in Carlo's office, tension running high. Mara looked completely different from what she once was. I hadn't seen her in many years, thank fuck.
I hate her. Because I'm jealous. Her perfect life. Carlo's golden girl. Everybody at her beck and call.

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