𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑽𝑶𝑾 𝑫𝑼𝑬𝑻 - 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬
Their love was never meant to be gentle. But it was never meant to break them, either.
──── ⋆⋅ ⚰︎ ⋅⋆ ────
𝒥𝓊𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓏, a 21-year-old with a sharp tongue and an insatiable appetite for ple...
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Four days have passed since Dream's was attacked. For the past two days, Juan has been unusually clingy. He's always by my side, his eyes constantly tracking my every movement.
He refuses to let me do anything involving mi familia, El Triunfador. I know he's scared, and I understand, but this is who I am.
"Carlos, where are you going?", Juan asks, his voice trembling with fear.
"Baby, I have to go. It's just business, you know"
"Oh, I know exactly what kind of business", he hisses
"Don't be like this, Mi Amor", I say softly
"Don't be like what?!"
I let out a heavy sigh, trying to keep my patience. "I have to go now"
"Fine. Just leave"
As I walk out, I know that once this business is done, I'll have to deal with his impulsive nature. But that's just him — my impulsive baby.
"Bye, baby", I call over my shoulder, but there's no reply.
I can't help but think about how to make it up to him, even as I get ready to take lives. The irony makes me chuckle. How pathetic.
"Hermano, what's up?!", Alejandro hugs me
"Alejandro, mi hermano", I laugh
The whole familia in our house. The El Triunfador house.
"To our victory!", I yell and drink up
Everyone yells, growls and laughs out loud.
"MI FAMILIA"
Everyone fears us. Everyone respects us. This is our victory. We've sold the drugs, and everyone knows what happens if they dare to cross us.
We drink — until midnight, until morning. The celebration blurs into a haze of power and liquor. Somewhere in the chaos, I pull out my phone and call mi bebé.
"Carlos? Where are you? Are you okay?", he answers, his voice sharp with worry.
"Uhm, bebé. . . te quiero", I slur, barely coherent.
"You're drunk"
"NO! I, uhm— I'm not. . ."
"Fuck you, Carlos", he snaps before hanging up.
I stare at the phone, confused. What's his problem? Did I say something wrong?
Without a second thought, I pour myself another glass of scotch.
"Alejandro, what the hell are you guys doing?", a sweet voice asks loudly.
"Isn't this El Triunfadors bitch?", someone sneers with a laugh.
The fog in my head vanishes instantly. I stand up straight, my voice razor sharp.
![I Don't WANT You [ 𝑀𝑀 ]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/288553374-64-k279421.jpg)