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Lorenzo's POV

TW: Mentions of abuse

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What am I doing?

What am I hoping to accomplish here?

Fuck. Love won't just come running back to me with open arms. I hurt her, and I deserve every sly remark.

I couldn't tell her the real reason I returned. To exact revenge on the Russian Mafia who poisoned and killed my mother as punishment for my father's debt and cruel actions.

The thing about men in the mafia is they don't go to the perpetrator. They hit them where it hurts most—their families.

I took this business and turned it around after he died. I couldn't become like him. Scared and alone. Afraid to go out at night without a gun on my right hip.

Last night, I got a call from Christian and he informed me that the guy who handles our Florida border smuggling got shot and killed, so I had to leave to take care of it.

This morning, I woke up with Love snuggled up against my chest, sleeping as soundly as a baby.

Her leg was on top of mine, and her breathing was slow and steady. Her slim body lifted and fell against my own.

I couldn't fathom how I'd let something so precious out of my grasp.

In this position, I'm reminded of the nights Love would have nightmares, and she'd message me and ask if I could lay with her until she fell asleep.

Of course her brothers—or anyone else for that matter—didn't know about her restless nights.

The only reason I had any idea was because in the middle of the night, I'd walked passed her bedroom and heard semi-loud whispers and incoherent words.

I never asked what she dreamt about or if she was okay. I was just there for her. Physically and emotionally.

I went through the same thing when my parents split. I was confused and dazed, and wondered if it was my fault they didn't work.

When we left Korea, my father took the anger he had for my mother out on me.

He'd hit me anytime I reminded him of her.

Whenever I'd smile, eat, walk. You name it.

I was his human punching bag.

When I turned fifteen, I finally learned to stand up for myself. I didn't take any of his shit anymore.

I signed myself up for karate and boxing classes in my off time.

The moment I quit looking at Love like my best friends sister was the day I saw her in the ring fighting.

She was fierce, and badass might I add.

The way sweat glistened down her skin, and the way her ponytail moved whenever she swung.

I miss how easy things were.

I wish I didn't leave.

God knows I didn't want to, but my mother got poisoned and we were obligated to care for her, get her the best treatments, and overall be by her side.

My father was a tyrant. He forced me to move back to Korea to fill my role as the heir of the Kkangpae Mafia.

I only attended his funeral for appearances. Other Mafia's couldn't know that my father and I were on sickening terms before his death.

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