You see, there are these apps where anybody can write books, stories and the sort and one day, scrolling the FB (which I don't usually do but I kill time with it on occasions) my eyes fell on a title that made me scoff.
The title, 'Mafia in Love'...
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"Raffaello Capozzi, the dead man," Michelle greets back in the same manner as I have and tilts his ugly head to one side with his temple touching Mia's.
I can hear the blood running through my veins and my nostrils arch like a bull. My heart is racing wildly making me hum deeply with anger as if throwing fire.
For a second my instinct pushes me to reach for my gun but he reads my mind.
"A... a... I have six bullets in here and two can reach you before you blink, one for you and one for your man," he warns and I know he doesn't talk bullshit.
He is one fucking fast shooter but more importantly than that, I don't want shootings around Mia anymore.
I refuse to blink, with my irises glued to Mia as the corners of my eyes concentrated on Parma's every move. She simply stands there, fucking wrapped by the left hand of the motherfucker, and stares at me, totally disconnected by the fact that he is holding a gun pointed at me or that he's molding her to his body more and more.
All she seems to care about is to show me just how disappointed she is, how much pain I've brought her now, standing in front of her and breathing and staring as if I have other two heads growing.
"Mia, sweetheart, walk away. Slowly, please," I ignore Parma and his gun hoping she would listen the more my voice is softer.
"She will not move. And you know why? Because she is smart and she knows that if I..." he tries to play smart and be the one in control but I move my eyes to him throwing fire.
"You are too close, Parma. You are too fucking close and that doesn't sit right with me right now," I hiss between clenched jaws speaking raw, giving each word its proper weight of hate.
"Uuu, what too close means for you? Ha? Because I know I've been closer, you know. Closer like... somewhere... between... that area, you know? And when we'll be married, I'll spend a while fucking time there, "he tries to be smart and push my anger to a point where hoped I would snap and make a wrong move.
"Mia, listen to me, I know you're angry now, but trust me, just this time..." I move my concentration back to her.
"Just this time?! I trusted you many times, Raffa, so fucking many times that now I feel those times were a waste," she says and the disappointment and the hurt in her eyes take the shape of anger, frowning her eyebrows and clenching the fists.
"Shhh, don't be angry, sweetheart. He doesn't worth it," Parma whispers in her ear and plants a kiss on her temple, a kiss that makes me more adamant that when he dies, he dies by my hand.
But my Mia remains completely unaffected as if he doesn't even exist there.
"I know, Mia..." I continue, hoping that acknowledging her pain will allow me to reach her heart and make her listen.
