•ℜ𝔲𝔫 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔟𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔩𝔶, 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢•
"Love starts with a spark and turns into a bonfire. But the way I experienced love with him, had the same definition but a different outcome. Is love supposed to harm your...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Carlos and I hopped into the car with the black package and drove to the police station. "GIRL. NO WAY. WHAT IS THIS SHIT."
He went on a rant, picking up speed and slaloming a little on the highway around the cars. "I'm sick, Carlos. I want to find out whose finger that is as soon as possible."
He took the wrong turn, driving off of the highway and instead to the rich district of San José. "What are you doing? That's the wrong way! We really don't have time for that."
"I know. But I have an assumption." I buried my face in my hands, stressed out about the situation. Not the best day to be honest. Maybe life would have been better if I had just stayed in Italy.
The houses got more and more familiar. Oh no.
"Car, leave Matteo out of this. He was with me and he's not the type to send me a finger as a present." "You think so, hoe?"
Carlos pulled up to his mansion and rushed to the main door, ringing the bell uncountable times until one could hear steps inside. Matteo unlocked the door and swung it open with an annoyed countenance.
"Can you-" He stopped, ogling us, getting wet in the rain. "Come in, please."
"Not until you explain why you gifted Lara a damn finger." I pulled Carlos inside. Matteo ran his hand through his disheveled hair.
It was 10 P.M., and he seemed to be already in bed, with his sweatpants on and a simple t-shirt. I had the urge, to fix my appearance right now. To put on a nice dress and do my hair, just like every time I see him. And this feeling is damn strange, usually, I'm chill with being myself around other people doesn't matter whom.
But I wanted to look good for him. All the time. Even if it is impossible.
"What's wrong? I don't understand." Carlos pressed the package into his hands and the moment he opened it slightly, every one of us could smell the disgusting smell of death.
Matteo placed it on the kitchen counter and handed Carlos a duvet after. He wrapped the other duvet around me, softly rubbing my body warm.
"Take place on the couch, please." He aimed towards the kitchen again and stared shocked into the package.
"Jesus." He rubbed his forehead, after staring at the content for too long. Carlos laid his arms around me and we both froze a bit, cuddling us warm.
"I don't trust that bitch." He whispered into my ear and I shushed him, assuring him that Matteo was trusted.
"It's Ryan's finger." Ryan. I froze in place and the duvet did nothing to protect me from it.
"Why?" He looked back at me, reading the last two words of the paper out loud. "I guess it was their boss."
"Your best friend?" Carlos chimes in, clearly angry about the situation.: "Why would their fucking bald ass boss send my best friend a finger with the message, like, oh he won't touch you and sum. Girl what the fuck."
