Eyes So Blue I Drown

01

LUCA

I smirk at the weak man standing in front of me. His desperate eyes flicker to the door in the distance, clearly considering his options of leaving me and running for his life. This monstrous idiocy keeps surprising me. No one here knows shit and I realized this the second I saw their boss.

His type is very usual in this business, the one who is weak deep down, hiding behind the title of a boss to ensure some easy fuck and a whole bunch of money. Pathetic.

"Tell me what the fuck ye know, bastardo."

"Steinfeld," He says in a whimper, my last name sounds disgusting on his weak tongue and I want to kill him on the spot. "I can't help you in your search. We have a lot of drugs and money, we even have women, you can have my women!"

A history of feudal drug lords, dons, and murders made him one of the greatest suppliers for arms, drugs, prostitution, and everything else that criminals would ever need. But not anymore.

"Patetico," I smirk at him and take a step closer to him. Tilting my head to the side I rip my gun, pushing it against his chest and meeting his frightened eyes. "I am of no fucking interest in any of ye're shit, you couldn't give me the answer that I wanted, and no one likes loose ends. Ho ragione?" (Am I right?)

"I can give you some of my men!" He tries to bargain, the desperation on his voice has me laughing on the inside. Watch this cretino beg me for his life. I wonder how many must've done the exact same thing to him.

I love this. He is a monster as much as I am, the only problem is that I have the upper hand now. The problem for him, that is.

"Funny how ye believe I need anyone," I say and pull the trigger on his heart, the bullet pierces his skin and he drops down in front of me. Blood oozes from him instantly and I walk away from the sight, my footsteps the only sound carrying through the dimly lit warehouse.

ARABELLA

I weave through the crowd on the dance floor, the bass pounding in my chest, until I reach the bar. "Crown, with red, hold the ice," I say, leaning in slightly. The bartender gives me a quick, unsettling glance, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. I don't let it bother me. I know I'm not dressed for this---black t-shirt, sweatpants---straight from practice. But if he wants to judge, fine. God give me patience.

He slides the drink toward me, and I take a slow sip.

"Hey, you're new here?" A drunk woman in a green coat with glasses sidles up beside me. I keep my eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge her. "Not interested?"

I don't frequent clubs, I don't have the kind of friends for that, but tonight, I need a drink to numb the chaos of my life. And right now, I'm not in the mood to talk. "I need some space," I reply flatly. "So, yes, excuse me."

I finish my drink and make my way through the club. The stench of sex and alcohol fills the air, and I wouldn't be surprised if people were having sex in the bathroom. As I reach for the glass doors of the club, I accidentally bump into a tall figure. "Sorry," I mumble, trying to move past him without a second glance.

The dim lighting makes it hard to see his face clearly. Rubbing my forehead, I step outside when an arm suddenly spins me around from behind.

My eyes meet two muscular men, and confusion washes over me. Their menacing stares make it clear they are not to be messed with. "What do you want? Let me go," I demand, keeping a stoic expression on my face.

"When you apologize, do it properly," one of them announces.

"Which one of you?" I ask, to throw a 'sorry' right into his face and end it quickly.