{ Book 1 of the Marino Series }
"Don't ever walk alone." My mother once said.
Well, about that... I might've walked alone & witnessed a brutal murder.
If it isn't the consequences of my own actions...
I witnessed a murder & now I've gained a stalke...
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EMILIO
A week before. { The day of the murder }
I sat at my desk flipping through multiple files of people who've participated in the kidnapping & death of innocent women, men & children.
Two of those innocent people being my mother & sister.
It's been over 4 years since they've gone missing & I haven't rested since.
Some part of me knows they're dead but I can't let them go. I'm not ready to.
They were all I had.
I sighed & shut the files. I opened my drawer & tossed the files inside. The silver knife caught my attention. I grabbed the knife & analyzed it, a small smile formed on my lips.
I purposely rubbed my thumb on the sharp end of the blade, wanting to draw blood.
It didn't hurt.
I've had this knife since I was 8. My father carved my mother & sister's names on the the flat surface of the blade, gifting it to me as a birthday present.
I smiled, loving the way my blood painted the sharp tip of the knife.
A knock at my office door caught my attention & I sighed. I grabbed a tissue off my desk & wiped my thumb, then the blade.
"Come in!"
I looked at the door & watched it as a slowly opened revealing one of my workers.
"Sì?"
I leaned back in my seat & moved my legs apart, getting comfortable. I crossed my arms over my chest & stared at the middle aged woman across from me, who's gaze is in between my legs.
I grinned. I sat up & fixed my seating position.
"My eyes are up here miss." I broke the silence & she cleared her throat.
"Um... you're father is here sir." she whispered, lowering her head & avoiding my gaze.
"Hm."
She quickly scurried out of my office & I chuckled. I stood up from my chair & grabbed my knife, twirling it around.
I walked out my office & down the long dark corridor into the living room, finding my father sitting on one of the black couches with a half empty cup in his hand. The small whiskey bottle sitting on the glass coffee table beside him catching my attention.
