𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 -
Intricate and witty, her life has twisted upside down after her father's past scarred his family. At the young age of twenty, Violet is informed that eight years ago, she was promised to marry a Mafia Don's son by h...
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I didn't know what to say to Dominic. I didn't know what I was even supposed to do. I didn't know how to ignore the cuts on his back.
They were all long, vertical scars that were evenly placed surrounding his spine. They reached from the bottom of his neck to small of his back, their positions calculated and precise. There had to be around eight longer ones, and they didn't even look fully healed.
I blinked, unable to take my eyes off of them. They were so— I didn't even know how to describe them. It was almost horrifying knowing that he'd been through that. It looked like he'd been tortured.
"It's beautiful," I told him, my fingers hesitantly grazing the skin of his tattoo, trying to make it less obvious that I was so focused on his scars. Shit, I don't know why I touched him either. It took me a good few seconds to realize that I was probably over stepping, because Dominic flinched at my touch. I had never seen him flinch before, not even with a gun pointed to him.
"Sorry." I mumbled, backing away.
He rolled his shoulders, raising his head higher. He didn't say anything
"Does it mean something?"
"It's for my mother," he said flatly. "Her name was.."
Silence.
He shook his head. "I don't feel like talking about this anymore."
Then it hit me that he referred to her as past tense; meaning she was gone. Our conversation wasn't just careless teasing and flirting, it was changed now. "That's okay," I reassured, not mentioning his mother.
"I'm so sorry but I can't ignore-" I started. I felt so bad that I couldn't dismiss the pain on his back, but apart of me wanted to know what happened, even though I knew it wasn't really my place to even ask.
"I know." Dominic cut me off. "I know."
"What.." I was about to ask what did this to him, then I realized that that would be the wrong question. The cuts on his back, they weren't from a 'what,' that would be too simple. "Who did this to you?"
He inhaled deeply. "You've met him before."
"One of the Russians?" I asked, them being one of the first people to come to mind.
