(A/N: i am sorry to orlaith, my favourite mafia boss, and to every current reader. do not feel attacked by the fact it is an x reader. orlaith is not like this it is like ethel cain not really being ethel cain. mama a digital footprint of mafia boss wattpad stories behind YOU 💜.)
orlaith stubbed her half-finished cigarette into the ashtray, the needle jumping on the record a little as y/n danced carelessly. orlaith polished the crimson blood off of the blade, which was rusting and becoming progressively more dull over time. she wrote, the pen (gifted from you) scratching the yellow post-it:
KILL COUNT- DAY 52
3 PEOPLE DOWN. 1 OLD MAN, FLIRTED WITH MY GIRL. 2 OLD WOMEN, REMINDED ME TOO MUCH OF MY PAST.
I'M SORRY LIZZIE, WHO ART IN HEAVEN.
y/n knew about orlaith's job, and cared for her regardless. little did she know about the malicious intent with which it had began.
as the candlelight dimly lit the room of the three-story parisian hotel, adding a fierce fire to their eyes, y/n cleared her throat.
"alpha," she addressed her timidly
"...alpha!"
orlaith's thoughts were elsewhere- stuck in the dingy basement within her childhood town, the house she grew up in. she clung onto these bittersweet memories dearly, but as everything does, they were beginning to fade. she lit another cigarette, but was suddenly startled by the SNAP! of y/n's fingers in front of her face.
"ORLAITH..." she said sternly
"I mean...do you even love me? You're always off in your own world, i mean, we are in PARIS, for God's sake!"
Y/n turned to leave, feigning annoyance but truly feeling an overwhelming hurt.
"Wait," orlaith called, grasping y/n's wrist gently "...you really think I don't love you?"
Silence filled the hotel room, the laughter from outside erupting through the old-fashioned windows, turning cold and dim in the tension between them. Summer wind blew inside, tousling her hair.
"Y/n..." she began gently, holding her face "you are the blade I turn inside myself." She picked the knife up, letting go of her face, for emphasis.
"I have never, and I mean, NEVER...loved anybody as much as you. You have to have faith in me, for I have as much faith in you as the disciples had in Jesus Christ. Please believe me. I want to be there for you, throughout it all."
Y/n's eyes glistened with tears. How could Orlaith say this? It felt like she was so inconsistent- some days it felt like Orlaith got in her and tore out the seams; other days it felt as if she was her only hope, a beacon of light in a quaking underworld.
"I love you...as much as Nara Smith loves Lucky." Orlaith added softly.
Y/n tore up at this, tears softly streaming down her face in the pale moonlight.
"Oh, beta. My favourite beta. Don't you cry." Orlaith hushed her gently, ushering her towards her, their arms enveloping each others'.
"Shh, everything is going to be okay. I swear to you, I will love you until you die."
Well, it wasn't exactly untrue.
It was so quick that y/n could've mistaken it for one of the many sobs racketing her body.
"I love you too," she croaked out quietly, just in time to feel the blade puncture her spine.
After all, for a lavish life, you have to pay prices.
