Dark Grasso,
An eldest Son.
An heir to the Grasso business and industry.
A head of Italian mafia transportation.
A sociopath.
Moon Diaz,
The daughter of the Diaz mafia.
A doctor and psychologist.
An empath.
When Moon runs away from her home...
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Human being.
A simple word created by human beings for human beings to describe the human being.
Another name for Human Beings is,
Homo sapiens,
An ancient Latin word that means 'Wise Man'
A Human Being named himself to be called a Wise Man.
.
What a pathetic narcissism it is, to praise our species to be the wisest and cleverest of them all. To claim own self to be the omnipotent creature on the planet Earth.
We humans are extremely prideful that we don't even call ourselves an animal or creature or species.
We call ourselves a Human Being while we call every other species a living thing.
We treat the world as we have it.
Pardon,
We treat the world as we own it.
.
We are cursed.
We are the curse.
.
"Lady Moon?" A knock on my room door flinched me on the spot when I was packing my sack. I quickly hid my stuff inside the huge wardrobe and cleared the suspicion. Though my forehead was sweating, I made it look normal.
"Yes?" I sat on the bed with my book and permitted the maid to come in. Suzan walked inside with her straight facial expressions. Her red curly hair was always tied in a bun. Hazel eyes, pale skin, mole above her lip. She looks like a witch from fairytales.
"The dinner is ready." Suzan bent down her head once and stood by the door without looking into my eyes. Rather she has been told to not look into my eyes. Not just Suzan but no maid or no servant or no bodyguard in this house is allowed to look into my eyes.
Why?
Because I'm the daughter of Valentino Diaz.
I'm the daughter of a fucking Mafia.
"I'm not hungry." I turn my face away, pretending to focus on the random book I picked from the side table of my huge bed. The dim lamp barely brightened up my room but enough to see Suzan.
"Mr. Diaz is waiting in the dining room," Suzan said with a small pause of a few seconds because she knows what it does to me. What 'Mr. Diaz's words do to me.
"Papa is back?" The terror climbed up my head and broke every bone in my body. The feeling of twists and nausea growled inside my stomach and stabled at my throat, choking and clasping around my neck.
"Yes," Suzan answered with a nod that felt more like a sympathy. My legs trembled and nails dug into my skin, scratching and bruising my back palm.
