𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ғɪғᴛʏ ғᴏᴜʀ

a short one :)

without further adieu, I present to you the next chapter...

(•_•)

UNKNOWN

Putting on a pair of sunglasses, I avoid the strain of the sun as I take a walk by a dimly lit narrow street. Passersby must be thinking why on earth someone is wearing Chanel in a crap area like this. I don't know either– I don't even know what my life has even come to at this point.

Staying undercover is the only thing running through my mind at the moment.

Tossing my head back, I roll my neck around between my shoulder blades with a low groan. My fingers kneed out the stress in my shoulder and back muscles. I feel my hair, which is the most unnatural shade of blonde ever, brush my neck.

Not a second later, my phone rings and I let it.

I've had enough with Guiseppe's calls for the whole damn month, pestering me about the status of the precious Il Boia. Oh sweet Amore. They knew Grisha would bid for her– the woman he loves with his entire fucking heart.

Pathetic really.

I mean, I'm one to say, but I'll prove myself soon. Love won't and will never rule my actions.

The plan was to let him find out when she was on stage to make him act impulsively and take her back. We're all psychotic– so impulsivity is hardwired into our brains so effortlessly like breathing. It's our nature.

Then, Thomas. I want to fucking murder him, for fucking with the plan. God knows what he did, but he did enough alright. What a fuck up. But he's loyal, so they won't let me get rid of him. He better be thanking the whole damn world for letting the auction work out the way it did.

I stare at my phone, my tongue poking through my cheek in contemplation to whether or not I should actually ignore him again. I run my tongue over the front of my teeth, feeling the smooth edges of my teeth and resist the urge of biting down on my tongue.

There's nothing like a little blood to wake me up.

I've been busy these days, sorting out things. The big plan. The ploy. The scheme. Whatever the fuck they want to call it.

They shouldn't be staying in New York for much longer and I should be returning to Giuseppe soon. But we can't rush it– not when we've been planning this for an endless amount of years.

We have the money– the extra ten million from Devi. It's going to feel so fucking good to liquidate all their assets, and with me on their side, it's easier than ever.

I flip open my phone dialling Luca's number.

"What do you want now?" he almost utters my name.

"Tell your father to stop ringing me," I deadpan, staring at the cloudy sky.

Could never tell Grisha that now, could I? A smirk tugs on my lips at the thought.

With the air cold and crisp, I feel it nipping at my skin. The hairs on my forearm remain dormant, never raising. It's important to dominate the simplest reflexes in your body to gain full control and reach the top of the chain.

"Tell him yourself," Luca replies fast, and I hear him about to cut me off.

Not so fucking fast, you fucker.

"Wait," I pull him back with the low tone of my voice, crouching down to the ground and lifting a sharp rock off the floor.

"Speak," he says, pissed.