Don't Be Cruel (MilkCiize)

DBC - 15 🥛🎀

POV: Love

Getting to Know the Vosbein

" Rich people are such a cliché," I remarked absentmindedly, my thoughts drifting elsewhere.

"Resorting to arranged marriages," she interjected, trying to share her own sentiment with me.

"Solely to protect their wealth," I continued, trying to match her rhythm.

"Even when they're clearly in love with someone else," she added, as if we were completing a melancholic poem together.

Her last statement caught my attention. I found myself intrigued by this stranger, suddenly wanting to engage.

"You too?" I asked, knowing I might come off as nosy with my directness, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Absolutely," she responded, her honesty catching me off guard. Neither of us made eye contact, both clearly feeling forced into this situation, mingling out of necessity rather than desire. 

I couldn't help but wonder, will we ever get along?

"Why not just walk away then? I mean, it's pretty unlikely for a mafia Don to be a coward." I decided to poke at her pride a little, just for fun, seeing if she would take the bait.

"Because my angel loves a hero, not a Don," she replied, unfazed by my provocation. Her tone grew more serious, but she didn't seem offended. If anything, she seemed reflective. She continued,

"Heroes often risk their own well-being for the sake of others, especially for someone they love." Her words, unexpectedly thoughtful, earned her a bit of my respect.

"Anyway, my name is Love—Love Pattranite, bound by contract to be your wife." I introduced myself, still maintaining a slightly sassy tone, making it clear I wasn't particularly thrilled about our dinner meetup.

"Don Panly Vosbein," she replied with a surprising grace, "willingly accepting this mischievous arrangement to be your contract wife, all for the sake of my beloved angel, who truly holds my heart."

Her words were a striking rebuttal, revealing a vulnerability that I hadn't expected from a mafia Don. Despite the weight of her position, she was, at her core, being a hopeless romantic.

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POV: Namtan

"You're really going to leave her without even saying goodbye? Do you have any idea how much that will hurt her? She'll definitely cry! Can you even bear the thought of it, huh?" I pressed, unable to hide my frustration.

"I'm aware of that," she replied sternly, her tone sharp but restrained.

"Then stop acting stupid, will you?" I shot back, my irritation boiling over. I'd grown fond of that innocent girl; she didn't deserve this. 

I couldn't stand by and let anyone, not even my dearest boss, treat her that way. After all, she is a friend—our bond sealed by a pinky promise that meant the world to both of us.

"I don't have the heart to see her for the last time..." Her voice faltered, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I witnessed a rare, fleeting glimpse of her vulnerable side—a side she hid like a secret beneath her cold exterior.

Her heart broke open, and the tears came, unbidden and raw. Her sobs echoed in the hollow of her chest, each tear falling like a note in the mournful symphony of her sadness. 

It was as if all her pent-up emotions were crashing down at once, and for a moment, she wasn't the stoic figure I knew, but just another soul trapped in the pain of love and loss.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to tell her the truth, the one truth that could maybe—just maybe—make her reconsider. 

"She loves you, you know," I said quietly, letting my words sink in. "The only difference is, you've never let her see the real you. That's why she couldn't fully love you—because all she knows is the version of you that hides behind your mask."

She shook her head, still caught in her sadness.

"I could never be the noble hero her heart wished for," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Let her be the judge of that," I replied firmly. "If she doesn't accept you for who you truly are, and if she can't see how much you're willing to change for the better, then maybe you're right—maybe her heart isn't as pure as you think. But not until you give her the chance to prove herself to you too."

She looked at me, torn between hope and despair. "How can you even say that? Do you even know what it feels like to be in my shoes?"

I sighed, a bitter smile playing on my lips. 

"You're not the only mafia whose heart has been invaded by a lovely woman, knocked open by cupid's arrow," I said, my tone softening. "I'm in the same boat, fighting the same pitiful romantic battles, each of us struggling with the love of our lives. Trust me, I get it. But that's exactly why I know you can't walk away—not without trying first."