~ what do you see in him?....
Everything you don't ~
~~~~
All Celandine's father wanted was to protect his beloved daughter. Even if it meant sending her away...
Little did he know, his daughter will fall i...
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I hate him. No, I hate myself.
If I knew how this business would go, I shouldn't have coming.
It was simple. Come to Serbia, have a business diner with Pavlov. Get him to sign the fucking papers. I've done things like this before, that why I agreed, two or five days at most.
But of course Pavlov had other plans.
That was, he wouldn't sign them if I didn't assure him he would get thirty percent.
Quel bastardo. (That bastard)
Since I refuse and make myself rather clear...
~~~~ flashback ~~~~
- The day of the meting -
As I make my way around the club I couldn't help but feel disgusted by the way people were drunk and high out of their minds.
Yes.we deal stuff like that, but I don't consume it. At least not anymore. Not since la mia ragazza told me it could destroy my health. Who am I to deny her?
"Ah!... There he is! I've been waiting to meet ill diavolo" a disgusting nasal voice became louder as I enter de private room.
With open arms Pavlov stands up from his seat.
A wave of weariness washes over me. The room was empty,just the two of us. Like I requested, but I had a feeling things would go wrong any time soon.
I sit across from him. Never making myself comfortable. I hand him the paper work "The deeds have been settled and all the arrangements were made, all that's left to do is sign" my tone dry yet firm.
Seeing that I didn't even greet him he sits back down. "Straight to business I see.." he takes the papers and reads them, after a minute he frowns and look at me " fifteen percent зајебаваш ли се са мном ?!" ( are you fucking with me) He slams his hands on the table.
I check my watch, mmm I'be been her for five minutes. Patience is a virtue my Senio . Her sweet voice ecos in my head, but I am not a patient man, especially when it involves a forty year old man throwing a tantrum because he's not getting what he wants.
"This is unacceptable!!! I'm giving you my routes..." my thoughts drift to il mio bellissimo angelo, it's not that late so she must be baking something. It's Monday so probably making some blueberry muffins for Franco. Yes, she bakes for everyone in the house. But those bastardos eat like they been starved for years.
It was becoming too much for her, I even noticed she wasn't enjoying baking as much as she did.with how much they ask. It was overwhelming her. So, I put my input. Told her she should give them a schedule for the week. She obeyed like the good girl she is. They all lost their minds when they found out about it. Apollo even try to shoot me when she told him it was my idea.
It was very satisfying seeing loose his mind. Especially over some plum pie. Can't blame him tho, il mio amore pastries are delicious.
"I want thirty percent!" Now why did he interrupted my thoughts?. "No"
"It's unacceptable! I'm letting you enter my territory, I must benefit in some way!!" He yells as he runs a hand through his face.
I've had enough of this, as I stand up to leave. A loud sound eco in the room. The burning sensation evident on my right shoulder. Quel bastardo just shot me.
I've heard Pavlov was an impulsive man, not stupid. Guess I expected too much.
As I feel the blood running down my back, I turn. To say he was scared was an understanding. His eyes look like they were about to pop.
In one swift motion I have my gun in hand, shooting his hand, making him drop the gun. I didn't give time to blink when a throw myself at him, right hand around his neck. My knuckles connect with his nose, breaking it .
I punch him again and again, until I was sure his face was distorted. It didn't please me. So I took my knife out and stab him on his ribs.
He groans. Good. I stab him one more time Before letting go.
" well sign the papers when you're... healed" I wipe the blood of the knife on his shirt. "Oh and it will be ten percent for that stunt you pulled " With that I left that mud hole.
~~~~ end of flashback ~~~~
I sight. Leaning both my hands on the balcony railing, as I tilt my head back, eyes closed. I take a deep breath.
I hate Severino for not wanting to get his hands dirty. I hate Massimo for suggesting I should be the one to do it. I hate myself for agreeing.
Hate is a strong word
I know amore.
As I look at the night sky I can't help but think of her. She must be worried. I haven't contacted anyone, I hate them too much at the moment to talk to them.
No one knows what happened with Pavlov either. It's better that way, since he's refusing to meet me to sign the papers.
He's alive, his face a bit distorted, but his hands are working just fine. Yet he refuses to sign, it's getting annoying at this point.
I know he's scared I'd do something to him, but I couldn't care less. I just want to go back to my angel. It's been four months.
I know she will ask me what happened, she worries too much for me. She shouldn't.
