Love Lost: Mafia Story

Chapter 11 (Part 2)

Harvey's Perspective

I had retreated to the comfort of my room, seeking solace from the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Lost in my thoughts, I was taken by surprise when Liam and Ethan barged in, wearing mischievous grins plastered across their faces. Their playful entrance drew a chuckle from me, and I played along, responding, "Ah, the noble knights have arrived to rescue their queen from the ivory tower."

Liam extended his arm, presenting a dress with unwavering confidence. "Behold, the best creation to have ever graced the fashion world. We immediately thought of you when we saw it," he proclaimed, his words accompanied by Ethan's emphatic agreement.

Smiling at their antics, I shook my head in amusement before accepting the dress. Intrigued, I excused myself to try it on. Slipping into the garment, I noticed its length, reaching only to my thighs, baring my numerous scars for all to see. Shyness and hesitation filled me, but with a deep breath, I stepped outside my room, only to be greeted by my four brothers and Killan sitting on my bed.

Our eyes met, and I felt a sudden surge of self-consciousness. Desperately tugging at my dress hem, I questioned, "Isn't this just a tad short?" Liam, in response, shook his head, while my brothers voiced their agreements openly. In that vulnerable moment, I couldn't help but feel insecure, my scars on display when I usually kept them hidden beneath layers of fabric and crossed arms.

Suddenly, someone rose from their seat and made their way toward me. Before I could comprehend the situation, I found myself being lifted effortlessly into Killan's arms. Panic welled up within me, and I instinctively tried to escape his grasp. But he remained silent, carrying me into the bathroom and locking the door behind us.

As my gaze fell upon the items he had brought, including my makeup bag, a concealer, and a makeup sponge, confusion clouded my mind. Killan wasted no time, gently parting my legs and beginning to cover my scars. I almost whimpered, feeling ashamed and exposed. Sensing my distress, he cupped my face, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Your scars are the most beautiful thing I've seen in the world," Killan uttered, his voice filled with conviction. "They are a part of you, just like how you are a part of me. I want you to accept them for who and what they are because they deserve it, and you deserve it. Because I love them."

Speechless, I simply nodded, still processing his words. But Killan wasn't finished yet. He gently tilted my chin up, demanding my full attention. "Repeat after me," he commanded. "My scars are beautiful, and I am beautiful."

There was a moment of hesitation, but I gathered my courage and repeated the words. His unwavering belief in my beauty began to chip away at my insecurities, creating a flicker of self-acceptance within me. Amidst the whirlwind of changes in my life, Killan's unexpected display of affection left me both confused and comforted.

As he finished covering my scars, I seized the opportunity to pull him closer. Taking the concealer from his hands, I delicately tilted his neck, attending to his own hickeys. In a low voice, I whispered, "I love all your scars too, but not these ones."

Killan's laughter filled the bathroom, intertwining with the warmth that enveloped us both. Tentatively, I smiled at him, feeling a newfound ease in his presence. Leaning down to my level, he asked teasingly, "What exactly do you think these are, love?"

Confusion clouded my features as I replied, "Hickeys? Love bites? Whatever else you'd call them?" His smirk only grew in response, and in a hushed tone, he whispered in my ear, "They're spider bites."

An involuntary jerk ran through me, and I pushed him away, glaring fiercely. "You asshole! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I exclaimed, my frustration evident. Killan merely shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It was fun to see you all riled up and jealous, just like how it used to be with him."

A tinge of sadness tainted his voice, mirroring the ache within me. I frowned, my emotions in a tangle, before pressing my forehead against his. "I miss him too," I confessed softly, acknowledging the void that still lingered from a lost love.

Before our emotions could weigh us down further, a familiar voice interrupted us from the other side of the bathroom door. "If you two are done making out, some of us would like to get drunk real quick," came the playful remark.

Killan opened the door, and we stepped out, joining the rest of the group. My four brothers, Killan, Ethan, and Liam were ready to embark on a night of revelry at the club owned by my father. Excitement and anticipation coursed through our veins as we embraced the freedom of the night.

The club was alive with pulsating music and vibrant lights, casting an energetic aura upon us. As the beats filled the air, we let go of our inhibitions, dancing and laughing, relishing the shared moments of camaraderie.

In the midst of the bustling crowd, I caught glimpses of my brothers, each with their unique personalities shining through. Knight's infectious laughter echoed, Ronan displayed his natural charisma, Luca allowed himself to be swept away by the music, and Adrien danced with a joy that seemed to radiate from within.

Killan, Liam, and Ethan were equally immersed in the festivities, their carefree spirits lifting my own. We formed a circle, a united front, as we laughed and spun under the flashing lights. The night carried us away, weaving threads of memories and forging bonds stronger than ever before.

As the hours slipped by, a sense of contentment settled within me. Surrounded by those I cherished, I realized that even in the face of adversity, love and acceptance could heal wounds and foster deep connections. Together, we embarked on a journey of self-discovery, celebrating the complexities that made us who we were.

In that club, amidst the pulsing rhythm of life, we found solace, a temporary respite from the challenges that awaited us outside its doors. We laughed, we danced, and we embraced the freedom to be ourselves—scarred, flawed, and yet undeniably beautiful in our own right.