Clandestine | 18+

34~Everywhere Without Love

Valentine- Maneskin
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"In hate and in love, in the broken space separating them, hate is the venom, and love is the obsession, what differs and what not, when the middle is breaking and both become one?"
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Alonzo Pierce

"Bring Dimitri to me." I ordered Leonardo. He was one of my guards, one I would consider most loyal. After Dimitri, or that's what I thought.

Leonardo's nose was arched, but surprisingly it complimented his features in an almost perfect way. His honey eyes shone under whatever light they were under. His jawline sharp, his built bigger than average. Only his biceps could crush a man's skull.

His pierced eyebrow raised at my request, but he didn't press. Instead, he nodded.

When the door closed behind him, I leaned back on my chair and placed my left arm on the armrest of it. My eyes stared at my hand. My ring finger specifically. The golden band that rested on my finger, a ring which I wanted to get rid of, burn somewhere in the pits of hell, shone the light of my office.

But unfortunately, I couldn't. If I did, the press would be the first to raise suspicions about our marriage, and if it fell under a week.

Marriage. Such an abstract concept. A vow of love, but what about us? This marriage was written in lies since the moment we said 'I do'.

My tongue licked my teeth. A soft sound coming from it.

I never understood emotions. I always stood by the idea that they were created only to hide an individual's weakness. Now I dropped on their level.

I also never took myself for someone with a lower capacity or intelligence than most. I always considered myself above average, with the ability to read anyone under five minutes.

In all my years that I had held my position as the most powerful mafia, I had killed dons, men and women. I had denied mercy to anyone, no matter their status or their relations to me. No one had ever fooled me.

Until now.

Mrs. Pierce. Her name venom inside my mouth. A burning hate under my flesh, that now she held my surname. That the dumb little creature that invaded my space was anything but dumb.

Mrs.Pierce. Jesus, my mind kept repeating her new surname, over and over, as if to remind me that now, she's bound to me. Something that was supposed to be sacred, instead was written in blood.

Mrs.Pierce, Mrs Pierce, Mrs Pierce,
it echoed.

It haunted.

It made my bones crave a certain type of blood under my blade, a body to skin alive, the same blood of the person repeating and hunting my mind.

I rolled my shoulders back, then stopped myself. She read this action. She told me I never express emotions, neither by my face nor my words, instead I release tension this exact same way. Rolling my shoulders back.

Mrs. Pierce. Mrs. Pierce. Mrs. Pierce.

Echoed. Once more. Spiralling.

My jaw clenched. My fingers flexed on the armchair, as if to ground myself from the thought of her. I wanted to tie her up, and make her skin bloodied in marks. My blood boiled hot at the idea of her porcelain skin that I wanted to bury 6 feet under.

How didn't I see it before? That she was so vigilant, such a perfectionist to detail, such connections to the Colombian Don, and I, the person who was supposed to fool her, fell right into her trap.