Fightclub

seven | orphanage

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦 - 𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝

How I came so close to finding her and yet she was nowhere to be seen infuriated me to the point I wanted to snap Ciro's neck for breathing too loud.

Igor fucking Romanoff was a dead man walking.

And how the everlasting fuck did he find out about her?

I didn't even know she existed a week ago, and he managed to kidnap her.

I hadn't even told my family about her yet. Our family.

Drystan called two hours ago to tell me his assassin couldn't find anyone in that hotel last night.

And what did I do? I crushed my phone in my hand.

I was laying on the couch in the middle of the hotel suite. Staring at the ceiling, thinking about what to do with all this mess.

Because that's what it was. A fucking mess.

What I wouldn't give to shoot father dearest right now.

"Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night? You will catch feelings for it." Ciro tried to lighten the mood, but he only earned a glare back.

"Fuck off." I snapped while emptying the contents of my whiskey glass in one gulp. The burning sensation in my throat matched my anger. Fueling it more.

"Get up!" Ciro insisted. And the fucker was persistent too. I got up and stared at him.

"And now what asshole?" I asked.

"We are going to the gym. Go change!" He ordered. And then smirked.

I contemplated my options and gave up. I agreed and went to change out of my shirt, and pants and into a more accommodating outfit to kick his us.

And that's how we found ourselves in a sparing ring in the middle of the gym floor at the Muse Hotel in New York City at 2 am in the middle of the fucking night.

"Talk." He said, dodging a jab I directed at him.

"What's there to talk about?" I fired back, dodging a combination of punches of his own. "She is out there! My sister. My little sister. Levias' twin. A sister I didn't know I had because Cillian fucking lost it at a fucking baby." I finally snapped. He knew what he was doing, and I knew it too. "A baby, Ciro. A few hours old baby." I was over it. I was done cleaning up all the shit my father left behind.

We stopped sparing and strode in circles panting.

The only thing I regretted most was the headstone above my father's grave. He didn't deserve one. He didn't deserve a six-foot hole either. He deserved to be scattered in little pieces across the seven seas.

"When does it fucking stop Ciro?"

"I don't know." He admitted unable to say anything else. "But what I know is that you are not alone. And I won't let you go down like last time. Stronzo" Asshole.