[𝘽𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙃𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙍𝙄𝙓 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎]
▪🂡🃎🃎🃎🃍🃍🃍🂫🂫🂫🂡▪
𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒙
Working for her father who is the don of
The American Mafia, she learned that being
random is bett...
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Pain, anger, and possibly denial.
All these emotions fill me up, they run through my blood, travel through my veins, and soak into my bones.
They bring me distress that I fight hard to stay out of. I tell myself this is a dream, this isn't real, this is some ridiculous prank.
Laugh. My brain tells me to laugh. To take it as a joke, this isn't serious.
I try to laugh but it's like I'm frozen.
"What?" I manage to say, weakly forming the words with my lips and letting them roll off my tongue
My throat feels closed and my chest feels tight, I feel like the air is being taken from me but is also suffocating me. I hope my gasping for air isn't obvious. My father shrugs. he shrugs as if nothing he said was memorable.
"I'm giving it to Dylan, he knows how to work and he isn't busy playing house. I'll admit I didn't train him as I trained you, which funny enough is one of the reasons I'm choosing him."
My eyes start to burn and my body starts to heat up.
I stand still. "What?" I ask again.
"Dylan went through similar training and he didn't end up being as damaged as you. He's stable, He doesn't complain when he gets orders, and he's clever, strong, and dependable. You only have one of those qualities."
I'm too scared to ask which one.
"I can't let Hannah do it because it's too dangerous." I laugh, weakly, pathetically, and sarcastically but nonetheless, it's a laugh.
"Don't be jealous Marceline, You have a good husband and he has money, you'll be fine. I think he's in love with you, or with your body. Anyways when you get married you'll have to move to Russia; everyone understands."
