Oceane's Pov“What’s going on? Why’s she bleeding so much?”“No.”“There’s so much blood!”“No.”“There’s so much blood!”“No.”“La mère, please stay with me. Don’t give up. . .please.”“Ah!” I scream, my fingers clawing at my skin, the burning hot water cascading down my body as I roughly scrub my body. I’ve always hated the sight of blood. I always have been repulsed by the sight of it and my disgust towards the sanguine liquid began on the day my mother passed.She bled out a lot and I was there to help her, to clean her up, but the blood wasn’t stopping. And by the time she finally surrendered herself to the cold hands of death, I was already a bloody mess.And that day, I couldn’t stop myself from throwing up until my system was completely empty.Tonight, those memories of years ago made itself known to me. Again. The woman’s cold body, her pool of blood, and the man who pulled the trigger.Angioletto. I’ve considered Angioletto a man who is so mentally deranged he somehow delu
Oceane's Pov“You’re such a bore, Oceane, just drink with me and loosen up a bit goddamnit!”Whining after whining after whining after whining is all that Abel has been doing since I go to this extremely annoying, noisy place.Even when we’re currently in the place he calls VIP, yet, the blasting music is still as loud as when we were down in the main hall.When I had arrived and Abel suggested that we go somewhere private, I was ecstatic because my naive little self thought Abel would want to get to know me on a more deeper level. But here I am, listening to his drunken voice while he complains about everything I do.You’re such a bore.You can’t even take a shot of tequila.I regret why I invited you out.All you’re good at is just being pretty and weird, your beauty is weird too.Those have been the vile words coming out of his mouth—out of the mouth of the boy I have a crush on.“Stop it already, Abel.” I croak when his rough palm squeezes at my thigh. “Please stop, I need to go h
Angioletto's PovAnger.I feel it so deep in my bones and my bloodstreams. I feel it so deep the glare of my eyes could slice through a skin.I feel it so deep my words could cut so deep, and my temperature so high it could burn the entire world.Rage, anger, joy, happiness, jealousy, envy, confusion—these emotions have had little or no impact on me for years until her. Until Oceane. It’s like she came in and stirred up a great eruption in me.I began to feel all those unneeded emotions with great intensity. Today especially.God, the way my blood boiled when that boy’s name was mentioned—the same boy who dared put his hands on my Oceane.My innocent, innocent girl.And he dared attempt to take away her innocence. Forcefully.I didn’t know what to think when I ran into that VIP room. I had absolutely no thoughts. All I saw was red. All I saw was darkness. And all I witnessed were my monsters basking in their glory at my inability to tame my anger. Another failure.The boy didn’t deser
Angioletto's Pov“Teach me.” Oceane suddenly declares, causing me to drag in a sharp intake of breath.“You should learn to stay away from men like me, munchkin .”“I’m so tired of being naive. I’m so tired of being a nineteen year old girl who’s just as innocent and dumb as a newly born baby. Please Gio, teach me.”I whip my head to the side to take a peek at my Oceane. Her pleading, glossy eyes meet mine and my resolve to stay away from this woman melts away.One tight nod is all I offer her as I swagger into her room and plop down on the cushion.Minutes pass before she quietly walks into the room with her head lowered as though ashamed of what is to happen.I’m not going to touch you, Oceane, do not worry about that.I want to tell her but instead, the words are swallowed. I want to play with her mind, drive her crazy with anticipation then leave her wondering why she’s so unworthy.And then, she’ll desperately desire to prove a point to me—she’ll do whatever it takes to be seen
Oceane's PovOne week later.It has been a week since I last saw Angioletto, since the events of that night.He promised never to leave, he said he’d be by my side by the time I woke up. It was all a lie. A manipulation tactic perhaps.He wasn’t there.And he’s still not here.On the first day, I had woken up too early, excitement dancing in my bloodstreams as all I could think of was to be graced with the sight of Angioletto before I had to prepare for school. He didn’t come.I waited an hour. Then two. Then three. But no one was entering my room.I had taken the initiative and gone to his room myself. Many times, I banged on the door, but still, there wasn’t any reply.“Boss left very early this morning, he has urgent business to take care of.” One of the guards had informed me after I had bruised my knuckles from knocking on the door.My spirit had weakened but I stayed hopeful. Putting a smile on my face, I dressed up and went to school.Soon after, I forgot about Angioletto’s exi
Angioletto's PovI’m silent. I’m still startled by both her outburst and her declaration.It’s true. I’ve always known the unmistakable fiery rage that brews within Oceane, a rage that might swallow her hole, a rage that is beginning to swallow her hole. But I never thought even for a split second that her rage will manifest merely because of my absence.She likes me.My lips almost tip up at the corners from amusement. Satisfaction. Almost because I’m supposed to be aggravated with her. I’m supposed to be devising ways to punish her for bringing harm to one of my men—no one dares lay a finger on my men except me. Except I permit it.But, here I am, ready to forgive her, ready to praise her for her heartlessness. My devotion to Oceane is deadly.She likes me.Perhaps I like her too. But not in the cute way she’s picturing it. I like her so much that all I want to do is curl my fingers around her neck and choke her until she’s passed out.I like her so much that I want to prickle her
Angioletto's PovSilence is power.In silence, I hide the ultimate violence that brews within me, letting it mature in a place of solitary. My silence is a sound so unique.My silence are unsaid words that can only be felt—sometimes, felt rightly. Sometimes, felt wrongly. A language of the soul.Sitting in the silence of my living room, my mind drifts back to the time when I was sworn in as a made man. The time when my identity as Angioletto Luoni, the grim reaper—a specially trained assassin of the Luoni crime family was revealed.Although built like a huge, thick wall, it was my silence that unnerved people the most. With my eyes, clouded by darkness, my lips pursed in contemplation, and my brows quirked in wonder, soldiers who trained under my command, and other made men—women included—began to fear me.My silence brought about confusion.With confusion came the need for clarity—to seek out answers. And when those answers remained a mystery, fear creeped in. The fear of not knowing
Angioletto's PovDarkness is still paramount, and yet, I am awake—wide eyed awake.The calendar says Wednesday, the time reads 5am, the birds sing a beautiful morning song, and my heart sings a bloody song.Torture is my forte.I say I have no heart, and yet, when I’m tasked with the duty to torture offenders, I feel that dead organ of mine palpitating ridiculously.I love the thrill, and the mess.And in this moment, when I walk into the holding cell and my eyes land on the soldier who’s restrained to an iron chair, I feel a rush of blood in my veins.I am finally breathing.Walking to the end of the large room, I pull another iron chair with me, the legs scraping across the roughly plastered floor. And when I’m in front of the restrained soldier, I finally stop, throwing myself on the seat with a sigh.We stay silent—the soldier and I. It’s in