𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 |𝟏𝟖+|

𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

♛ A T L A S ♛

"Get the fuck out of here, pineapple does not belong on pizza. Don't you ever say that shit again," I exclaimed, attempting to toss the now empty pizza box at her face but she somehow managed to dodge it. 

Stella got up from her seat and walked towards the door. I convinced her to change into a pair of sweatpants even though I gave her the shorts. I couldn't keep staring at her ass practically coming out of the thin fabric and not get a boner. We've been up where for nearly 3 hours and no one has called or come up to bother me which means I get the piece of mind that I so desperately need. I know I'm supposed to be leading an empire right now, but even the King gets an off day.

"Where are you going?" I asked, staring at her in pure puzzlement. 

She tossed her chocolaty voluminous curly locks to the side and looked straight at me, no falter in her eyes whatsoever. "You said I should 'get the fuck out' since I think pineapple belongs on pizza so I'm getting the fuck out." Her hand latched onto the door handle and opened the door a little bit.

She can't be serious right now. 

"Personally, I don't think going to the club in sweatpants and a crop top is the most ideal thing. But then again beating the shit outta someone at the club isn't ideal either." I pulled out the only sentence that came to mind, I didn't want her to go actually. She was finishing all my expired food for me. 

At least if she drops dead out of nowhere, I'll know why. But nobody will know it was me because I can make it look like an accident. Or I can say it was a suicide, I don't know her mental health state. I'll just have to call one of my guys to clean the mess she'll leave behind and after that I'll have the perfect place to store her body. 

Okay, maybe I'm getting a little too ahead of myself. But plotting murders or just executing them in general brings so much thrill to my body. It was like instead of blood running through me and my veins, it was the adrenaline and the anticipation of making the kill, taking the life and watching it slip away as if it were never there to begin with. 

"Well, that's just you personally. Pineapples do belong on pizza. Get over it, babycakes." She mocks closing the door behind her and still standing behind the door with her back leaned against it as if I would feel the random urge to get up and start straight on attacking her. 

The only thing I want to attack is that-.

"Sweetheart, you can't tell an Italian that pineapples belong on pizza. The look on their face will kill you before they even get the chance to." I tell her honestly. It was the truth. You wouldn't go to an authentic pizzeria in Italy and ask for pineapples on your pizza. You couldn't. They would feel disrespected in whatever way was possible. 

"Awww, sugar plum." Stella coos sweetly and for a second I think she's genuinely being sweet but that thought is short lived as soon as her look goes from sweet to bitter in the blink of an eye. "Don't tell a Jamaican or Brazilian that they can't put fruits on their pizza because they will take you to one of their lonely lovely islands, do the most unthinkable shit to you, and throw your dead body parts into the Caribbean for Jack Sparrow or Captain Blackbeard to find you. Whoever comes first."

There was no point in pretending that I wasn't the least bit threatened by what she was saying. The sinister look in her eyes and that devious smirk that played on her plump pink lips showed that she had indeed frightened me and she fucking knew it. I'll just make a mental note to never give her pizza without pineapples.