𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | ✓

Chapter 19

𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵...

Yulia glared back at her reflection, specifically the blemished skin of her cheek. Even now, it was still warm with a slight burning sensation that seemed to throb. Her father didn't even do anything–which she isn't surprised about–, he's always been indifferent towards her, because she is a female and not a male. She has three older brothers who are army generals, they've been internationally praised in the media for their services. But her on the other hand is a B-list Model–her choice of career certainly did not not please her father but he didn't care. He never cared, and that's why her hatred for him has grown deep sturdy roots in her chest.

However, the best decision he made was to arrange a marriage between her and that striking guy. Everything about him intrigued her to the fullest; from his greasy hair, to his soft features outlined by chiseled lines, to his abs that seemed to show in anything he wears, to the bulge in his pants. Just thinking about him had her swooning like crazy! Her friends would die of envy if a hottie like that was standing at the alter waiting for her to get there.

“I think I'm in love with him,” she taped down a picture someone took of him and printed out for her to have on her dresser mirror. It was one of many; she possessed an album of his pictures. “I want him so bad, but there seems to be a little problem I'll have to take care of,” Yulia thought of the female who slapped her. How rude of her!

“Stepsister? Who are they trying to fool? I saw the way she looked at him, the blazing affection was conspicuous in her eyes. She has a thing for her own brother, disgusting–but he's unfortunately mine. And when something's mine, I'll annihilate anything or anyone that tries to get between it and I,” Yulia removed her black wig to reveal short curly hair. “Whether by m*rder, or by t*rture.”

She applied lipstick in the mirror then lathered Ryat's picture in red lipstick kisses, she even rested against the glass pretending it was he who she was holding. Eventually she entered the ensuite to wash her body and to do no more than fantasize her wedding with the man of her dreams.

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The leafy branches of the tall trees swayed in the wind that whooshed against it. A few green leaves got lost in the air and flew all the way to the ground, one landed on the shoulder of Carnage. He brushed the disrespectful leave off and continued looking at the view from where he was perched on his bike with both legs on either side of the grassy ground. His hands covered in black leather fingerless gloves were on the bike's cold handles, the gloves matched his black leather jacket and boots. A cross swung from his neck, it was diamond studded just like the Gucci belt buckle that ran through the hoops on his pants.

Today had been a hectic day. He trusted his father and thought things were different, that he'd finally be able to know what fatherly love feels like, but he was wrong. That man will never change, and as a result, Ryat is giving up on him. The cool wind blew and slashed his face, he sighed deeply.

“Grandad...” nights like these reminded him of the ones he used to spend with his mother's father. On nights like this–cool, windy, pitch black–they'd sit exactly where his bike was parked and talk about life and many things. That man taught Ryat many things; how to shoot, how to fight, how to be ruthless, how to be savage, how to spot fake people, and most importantly, how to not put his trust into people but in his g*n.

“We all make mistakes but to trust is the biggest,” he said, looking up at the cloudy sky. “I hope you're watching me, Grandad, and I hope you're proud of me. I...hate to admit it, but I miss you.”

That brought him back to terrible memories. Ryat had grown up very attached to his Grandad and visited him every chance he got. He aspired to be like the man–who was antisocial, terrorized everyone around him, and intimidated people with his mere existence–he was his idol. And then, on a cold rainy night his life was taken right before his eyes. They were coming back from a local bakery after buying Red Velvet cake, they were walking home with black umbrellas while they wore long leather coats...and then it happened. The images of that night flashed before his eyes. His Granddad sacrificed himself for him, and was brutally, mercilessly, and savagely stabbed to death while he watched from behind a trash can.