He was cold as ice, and you were the fire that burned inside of him. It shouldn't be this way. He was your father's rival. Blood, and wars was all you knew. It was the only lifestyle you were accustomed to.
He was ten years older than you. The moment your father had taken you down into the basement to interrogate him, you knew you were done for. The crystal blue eyes that sometimes looked green depending on the lighting. The scruffy beard, and his toned upper body made your thighs squeeze together.
"This is your daughter? Can't be. She's way too pretty to come from your loins." Jon comments, causing him to get a fist to the face.
"Don't talk about her." Your father snapped.
The next time you saw him, your father had done a number on him. He had blood falling down his chest. His hands were tied up, and he looked like he could use some water. You weren't supposed to be down here without your father, but oh well.
"What are you doing down here, angel?" He asks you. You don't answer. Instead, you tilt his head back so that the water could go down his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed up, and down as he swallowed. He licks his lips, and smirks at you. "You're nothing like him, are you?"
"You know nothing about me." You tell him, and he nods.
"Do you know why your father has me here?" Honestly, you didn't. "He thinks I killed your mother."
"Did you?" You ask him, and he shakes his head. "How can I believe you?"
"Because, your mother helped me."
"Helped you?" You ask him, and he nods at you. "How?"
"Long story, doll. I'm sure your daddy has things he needs you to do." He tells you, and you honestly felt a little offended by the way he spoke those words to you.
"I miss her." You admit to the man you barely know. "Every single day."
"You look like her." Jon tells you. "You're both very beautiful. I'm sorry you have to deal with your father."
"You're apologizing to me? Look at what he's done to you."
"I can't say I'm innocent, angel. I've done some petty fucked up things in my day."
"But killing my mother isn't one of them?"
"Correct." With that, you take one last glance at him before walking away from him.
You decided to do some intense research, while continuing to spend time with Jon when your father was away.
Turns out, Jon wasn't lying. He didn't kill your mother. Your father did.
To say you were livid was an understatement. You make your way down to the basement, and just like every other time you're in there. You release Jon from whatever thing your father had him secluded too. "You alright, Angel?"
"Not exactly." You tell Jon, and begin to pace down in the basement. Hands on your waist stop your movement, and you can feel his breath on the back of your neck.
"What is it?" He calmly asks you, and you take a deep breath in.
"My father paid a hit man to kill my mother." You can't help the sob that come from you, and you feel Jon turn you around in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Mox."
"Stop. None of this is your fault. Okay?" You lay your head on his chest. "No, look at me." You lift your head, and he wipes the tears under your eyes. "None of this is your fault. Your mother wouldn't want you crying, would she?" He was right, she wouldn't. "Listen, we will find a way out of here, but you have to put me back. Can't have your father thinking you're helping me. Okay?"
"Okay." You whisper, and walk back over to the chains. A pair of lips are pressed against your forehead.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head. We will figure this out, alright?" He asks you, and you nod.
"I just feel so betrayed." You tell him, and fix up the chains.
"I have a friend that lives in Florida. If we leave tomorrow morning when your father leaves. We can make it. You need to pack tonight. Understood?"
"But you'll need a shower, and I need to clean your cuts."
"Angel, don't worry about me. We need to get you out of here. It's only a matter of time before he does the same thing to you."
"Okay. Stay strong for me, yeah?"
"Always, baby." He smirks at you close the door.
The next morning you go down to the basement to see that Jon wasn't in the chains, but your father was. Jon sat in front of him with a blade in his hand. "Hey Angel, change of plans." Jon smirks, and walks over to you.
"What are you doing with my daughter?" Your father asks Jon, and Jon walks over to you, placing his lips on yours. His lips feeling perfect against yours.
"So, Angel, where should we start?" Jon asks, and you smirk at him. You walk up to him, sitting on his lap, grabbing the blade from Jon and looking up at your father.
"Why don't you start by telling me why you killed my mother?
