"𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠，𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑙"
- 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐

𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗼

With a tattered t-shirt, a torn skirt and my sanity shattered like a million tiny sugar particles I manage to find one of Rocco's cars. If I stole or destroyed one of them he'd find me for sure but how else am I supposed to get to my cousins?

The sun was setting now, saying goodbye and that it doesn't have time to deal with my shit. My face was battered up badly too—neck stung with a dark red hand print.

Long and hard I stare at his car. I know how to hit wire a car... while I was still with my family. The Romano's. It was a requirement that no matter the gender you had to know the ins and outs of being a mafia.

Without wasting any more time I get in his corvette or a Volvo—the color was somewhere between butter and an ice cream.

The sleek door—smooth as I graze my hand across it–the silver handle cool against my skin.
Luckily for me the door was unlocked. I open it, and slowly slide in—careful as not to aggravate my injuries any more than necessary.

Should be easy enough. I've gotta Hotwire it before his ugly ass rears his head.

𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨

The sun began its descent and I was stuck with Moretti trying to strike a deal—a compromise without much bloodshed.

Buttoning my shirt for the fifth time, letting the sea breeze float over its fishy aroma, I lean against my Porsche in hopes we will come to an agreement.

Could be in blood for all I care. "I see this is going no where," he mutters, and I catch it.

Moretti had been at the once when this was about getting his ex-wife out from his claws. I smirk—a hidden knowledge of what's to come if he decided to go plan B on me.

"You think I won't go through with my threat Romano? I've got something precious locked up in my lair," Moretti said, rubbing his chin, his other hand on his hip.

"You think threatening me about her would make me back down, Moretti?"

Although I was trying to keep my cool my jaw had other plans.

𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓪 𝓒𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓸

My eyes were locked onto the orangish pink sky outside. The Jeep Wrangler, and most of his Harley's were in his car room. Like a shadow, Marco stood nearby.

Whatever is happening I wanna go up there right now.

Just as I turn to make my demands to him, the roar of an engine outside arriving halts me. Enzo walks in and doesn't acknowledge me.

"Line the bottles up outside," he barks at Marco who nods and follows him.

I take a few minutes before walking behind them. He was boiling with an unknown energy. What happened out there by docks? He's grabbing his rifle, and scans it quickly before taking some bullets from the casing.

As he loads it—the loud clicking—a rhythmic sound of water dripping down a roof fills the room. Yet the silence—heavy lay on us in thick sheets.

Click. Click. The only sound reverberating in this room. My eyes dart around the room, examining it carefully—painting it in my memories. His movements were controlled, precise—leaving nothing for imagination.

𝙍𝙤𝙘𝙘𝙤 '𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩' 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞

What seemed to do it for me wasn't  the fact that Romano didn't give in. It was her. That girl found a way to escape my clutches and with my perfect car too.

Dark thick rage simmered beneath my veins. That little bitch... She won't know what hit her once I find her.

Ruby Kane

As I walked down to my apartment, a familiar car was parked nearby—buttery smooth color, with a sleek silver handle. Is that him? How did he find me?

My heart begins to pound, tears prickling at the edge—a lot of unwanted memories locked in about to burst into flames in front of my eyes.

And if I get closer to make sure... if it's him, I'm screwed.

Cautiously I step closer and closer—heart thudding hard against my chest. Please don't be him.

I peer inside the window, looking around the inside. Why is car here? And where is he? Taking a deep breath I keep scanning the car just in case he's hiding with a gun.

𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗼

I just walked to the convenience nearby, trying to find a lighter and some fluids just to get rid of his musky smell. The cashier was staring at me, and not in a good way.

"Is that all?" He said, chewing his gum—eyes half closed.

"That's all..."

"That's $2.50 plus tax..."

The tone was flat—like a tire that has no more energy. As quickly as I can I pay with the only money that wasn't snatched by him.

As soon as I'm out in the air—the humidity hitting me harder than a truck, I walk towards the car. I won't need that car and nor will he.

  When I walk up I spot a familiar back, who's peering inside hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Is that her? What is she doing?

I look around before walking up to her.

𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓪 𝓒𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓸

I can't ask him yet and just follow him and Marco outside. The rifle rested against his broad shoulders he walked up to the bottles lined up and ready.

Is he okay? What happened out in the docks? I was about to clear my throat to ask him but Marco's face made me think twice.

I guess I won't need to ask. I watch him load a bullet into his long gun—an AK47 and aim right at the bottle. Eyes precisely on the olive green beer bottles—lined perfectly side by side.

I hold my breath as he presses his finger right on the trigger, and with that it flies past in lightning speed—connecting with it—fracturing it into little shards for Marco to pick up later.

  The ringing finally registers in my brain since I wasn't paying much attention to the noise but the bullet flying was my priority at the moment.

He loads another bullet and aims right at them—the remaining glasses waiting for their chance to shatter.